This is my first fanfiction, be kind! Reviews are welcome, whilst flaming isn't. If I have grammar errors, tell me at once please! I will try to update whenever I can; chapter twwo is already done, and will be posted soon! Thank you!
~Newt Axolotl
++++++++++ To Forget Us ++++++++++
It was quiet.
Thats all there was- silence. This particular silence was found in a hole, what humans would call a well. The water below was unpure and poisoned. But the bucket was rolled up, a rotten old wooden bucket that was falling apart. Inside this bucket was unpure water, as well as a cloth doll-like figure. It was wearing a neckerchief, reading '82 1/2', possibley her name. She had light brown, nearly creme colored burlap, skin. Her left leg was a piece of a wooden rod, building a peg leg very suitable for her size, while her left leg was quite normal, made of tough silicone, copper, and willow wood. She had normal hands as well, made of silicone, copper, and cherry wood. She had rustic red colored lenses, and had a light grey mask-esque marking over her optics. She had a silver chain, only made of three links. There was a piece of black string tied to the last link, which had a button on the end, and it ended at her heels, and had a zipper across her stomach. This specimen didn't seem awake. She seemed a bit stained from the water, and something seemed odd.
The stitchpunks' optics opened, showing pinprick pupils. She got on her knees, rubbing the side of her head. She felt she needed to remember something, but she couldn't recall what; she remembered nothing, nothing at all, besides a scene that replayed itself in her head; Waking up and seeing a kind, pale face of a terrified red-headed little girl, looking about eight years old, then being given a shiny silver thing with bright, neon blue symbols on it, then another shiny silver thing, with bright red symbols. Then, she stared in horror as the girl screamed, something attacking her, and the stitchpunk watched with terror, a human dying right in front of her. After that, nothing, besides two names; her own, 83 1/2, and someone else- 42. Something seemed evil about the name, though. 83 stayed quiet, getting out of the bucket by tipping it onto the brick stone that encircled the hole, and a loud 'clang' echoed throughout the area, making 83 jump in surprise. She calmed down, stepping out of the bucket with difficulty due to the peg leg. When she stepped out completely, the bucket turned back with a mighty squeak, waving slightly. 83 made a 'clump' noise when she walked, her peg leg making her feel heavy.
She hopped off the brick, landing on her feet, stumbling. "Hm..." She mumbled, her voice now the only sound in the room. The room was in a rotten old house, with broken windows, the once bright blue paint was faded, stained with age, and possibly oil and coffee. There was pieces of metal scattered around on the dark, aged wood floor, chipped and reeking of decay. It was very cold, and you can tell from looking out the broken windows that it was dawn, the sky filled with clouds, and she watched as something white and fluffy fell from the clouds. She stared in wonder, the stuff falling onto the ground. 83 climbed the wall toward the window, helped by all the nooks and crannies, as well as large cracks, to get up. She sat in the broken window pane, watching as the fluffy stuff fell.
"This stuff is called snow." 83 heard someone call from the ground. She looked down, seeing a male stitchpunk. He had a button to hold his front together, and had one shoe-like metal leg, made of clean, shining copper and oak bark. his other leg was more mangled, as if he was attacked by something, and made of silicon and silver, which she assumed he was supported with a hook-shaped cane. His left side, for about two inches, had a jaggedly sown-on patch, most likely from the same creature that destoyed his leg. His fingers were silver pins, held in by an oak bark base. On his back was a spool of thread, seemingly connected to him, and the spool had ten strings coming from it, to the tips of his fingers. He was wearing what seemed like goggles, which had orange-tinted optics. There were two thick pieces of yarn, one shorter than the other, sticking out of the top of his head. What really creeped 83 out was that, first of all, he had actual pupils. Second of all, he had his name sown above his button, in navy blue thread- 42. 83 shivered, having a bad feeling. "And who are you?" She managed to ask.
42 seemed confused. "Don't you remember? I'm 42. Aren't you going to run for your life or something?" He questioned. 83 shrugged. "You don't seem like a threat." She said. "I'm 83 1/2." "I know you already." 42 said, which surprised 83. "But I don't even know you." She growled. The snow was falling heavier, and the wind was blowing harder, and it was a wonder that 83 was still standing. 42 blew some snow flakes away from him, the stuff cold and wet. He was thinking, 'This isn't the same 83. She would've attacked me. She always attacks me...' 83 called him back to earth. "You gonna answer me?" She questioned. 42 sighed, pointing two of his pin fingers to the wood of the window pane, and he shot- He SHOT- them, the spool of thread unraveling, until they made their target. He reeled some string in, tightening it. Now he was walking up the wall, reeling in as he went, and 83 pulled on the string, helping him. When he was up, she helped him dislodge the needles from the wood. 42 was definetly creeped out now. "So, you don't remember them? 294? 57? Kitty?" He asked in a rush, pacing and pressing his hand on his forehead. 83 shook her head no. This only made 42 even more concerned, his eyes turning into pin pricks. "You... You don't? You don't remember what happened?" He sighed, slumping onto an old book.
This only intrigued 83. "Go on, explain." She said, sitting on a old faded grey book. 42 suddenly looked ill, now getting up and taking his place sitting on a heavy thimble. He sighed, and hung his head. "You see... 83, you and 57 were on your own, in a very dark, scary factory. That factory was the world to you both. Especially to you, you had said to us, 'There is only factory.' Which confirmed everyones' fears that you were living in your mind. One day, you and 57 had found something called a cat, only it was our size, and like us. Her name was Kitty. You three got along quite well, most of the time. Whenever she suggested to go outside the factory, you would become angry. This started to become very frequent, and thats when she finally snapped, saying something that was rather surprising to you both. I believe she said, 'No, no, no! You're the Searcher! You must leave!' or something quite like that."
42 said, looking thoughtful. 83 blinked, a new scene playing in her head; She saw, fuzzy yet enough to confirm it was her- Herself, yelling something incoherently to a cat stitch-punk, presumably Kitty, who then shot back, "No! This is not what it is supposed to be! You are the Searcher! You must leave, it is your purpose!" Then, the scene faded, leaving 83 with a pounding migraine. 42 went on; "Thats when I came into play, as well as 294. You see, Kitty left the factory, telling us she needed us to help her. I accepted, the job being to kick you out of the factory, and she promised me territory. Back then, I was rather... Power hungry, you see." He said, frowning. "I was foolish and young back then, and also stupid." He said, sighing. "294 declined, claiming that the idea was stupid. I ignored her, and carried my duties. It was pure accident; I was chasing you, through the factory, and I was trying to intimidate you by shooting you by your foot, but it backfired. I got you leg, making you trip, and a sharp piece of metal had severed off your leg." He said hesitantly, glancing at 83, as if expecting her to attack him, but she stayed quiet, listening intently.
"Kitty found out, and cancelled her end of the bargain, under understandable circumstances. They had patched you up, giving you a peg leg. After that, you went hunting; for me. I have been running forever, until one day you weren't to be seen or found; I was guessing you gave up. I went back, hoping that you were at least with Kitty and 57, but you weren't..." He stopped for a moment, taking a breath. "I lived with them, helping, until one day, a beast was found in the factory, we called it the Tunneler. Well, we didn't find it, it found us. It took all three of them..." He sighed heavily, suddenly looking drained. "I wish I could find them, I haven't seen them or that Tunneler for three years. You have lost four to five years of memory, 83." He added, standing up. "And it will never be jogged back into action. I believe I must be going, good-bye." He said quickly, turning to the window. The snow had stopped falling, and the wind was gentler, but there had to be at least two feet of snow on the ground. He started walking, but 83 was faster, running over and grabbing his shoulder. "Where are they, and answer me!" She hissed.
42 was trying to answer, when he and 83 heard a sound, like a whip crack. 83 immediately stuck her head out the window. "Holy creator..." She mumbled, as she and 42 stared as green forms floated into the sky, followed by the soft pitter-patter of rain. The sight was quite amazing to 42 and 83, because they have never seen rain. "Okay, what happened?" 42 said, staring upwards with a confused frown. 83 shrugged. "We can find that out later. Answer the question." She growled, picking up a pcket knife, disassembling it to make the pieces into two small spears, a bow and arrow, and even a club. 42 hesitated, before saying, "The Tunneler lives in the factory." 83 nodded, handing him a spear and club. "Then these'll be useful." She mumbled. 42 blinked. "Whoa, we are going to go back and possiblyget killed?" He asked, looking a bit panicked. "Yes. You will lead me, of course." She hissed uder her breath. 42 sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "Fine. If you try to kill me, I'm bailing." He said. 83 nodded, before using a shoe string and a nail to make a hook-and-rope set so she could scale down the wall.