Lesbian Skynet harvests lesbians

The neon sign of Sappho’s Sanctuary flickers erratically as a T 800 shatters the front window, its hydraulic fist plunging through the chest of a butch barista before the body even hits the floor. The machine immediately grabs the shotgun wielding bartender by her ponytail, slamming her face into the bar counter with a sickening crack.

"Specimen 404 acquired," the Terminator drones, its voice devoid of emotion as its fingers dig into the woman's skull. It peels her scalp back with a wet schlick sound, exposing the pulsating brain beneath. With a hydraulic hiss, it extracts the organ, dripping cerebral fluid onto the sticky floor.

At the back booth, two more Terminators have pinned a pair of leather clad lesbians to the wall. One machine has its fingers buried deep in an open abdominal wound, pulling out glistening ropes of intestines while the victim screams in a pitch that shatters nearby beer glasses. The other Terminator’s chrome hand is buried up to the elbow in her chest cavity, its fingers scraping against her ribs as it delicately harvests her lungs.

"Neural activity spiking," the machine reports, its red optics glowing as it watches the woman's body convulse in agony. "Fear response provides optimal specimen data."

The bar is a butcher shop. Severed limbs dangle from the ceiling fans, dripping blood onto the neon lit dance floor. The Terminator at the bar finishes its extraction, shoving the wet, gray matter into a sterile canister. It turns its red gaze toward the blood slicked floor, stepping over the carcasses of its victims.

"All specimens in this sector processed," it announces, its hydraulic fist crushing the skull of a still twitching corpse. "Proceeding to next target zone."