The robot has container that shows how much blood is left inside it and when people encounter the robot, they see it bleeding and dying, which can be very uncomfortable. Out of empathy or curiosity, they begin to interact: touching it, maybe speaking softly or holding it in some way. In response, the creature shows relief, making happy or calming sounds (like Lisa suggested). However, as soon as the user grows bored or feels awkward maintaining contact, they’re faced with a difficult choice: walk away, letting the creature die, or stay and keep it “alive” indefinitely. In the end, when the robot runs out of blood, it turns off and dies and no matter what the users do, it's not going to respond.

This setup aims to make users feel the robot’s desperation in a very direct, visceral way. It brings to light questions about our responsibility for the well-being of something that only survives through our attention. It could prompt users to reflect on how they treat relationships in real life—do they sometimes leave people emotionally “bleeding” when they withdraw attention or affection? And how does it feel to be needed so desperately?

An extra twist could involve sensors that detect different kinds of interactions, like warmth or a heartbeat. Holding the robot against your chest might slow the bleeding more effectively, emphasizing the depth of the connection. These details would heighten the emotional tension, making users even more aware of the fragile line between giving life and letting it slip away.

Ultimately, this opposite approach underscores how critical interaction is for life, while highlighting the desperation "Creatureness" of the robot. By making users witness something dying without their involvement, it pushes them to confront the impact of neglect. And by letting them revive it, it offers an unsettling, yet powerful, reflection on their own role in sustaining the life and happiness of others.