Author's Note: This was actually supposed to be a poem, but I decided to change it to a story instead. The ending made me cry just writing it!
6 and the Beast
6's Point of View
It wasn't uncommon, the dreams. I get them almost every night. The other refer to me as a baby, not because of that, but as I'm the youngest of the group. He always came, 5. When I wake up screaming in the middle of the night, he comes and tells me it'll be alright. It always helps, even though it'll come again the next night.
Everything changed soon, when she came along. I knew he liked her- loved her, even- and I didn't know what to do. All I knew is that I needed someone to talk to. If no one here was going to, I'd make someone that will. For the first time in a long, long time, I drew something other than that symbol, that source. I drew something, and I would soon build it as well.
Normally, I wasn't one to scout, but I needed to for a while. I told 2 where I was going each day I did, and then I was off.
I found what I needed most in the first couple of days. I stocked all my supplies in an old, rusty car nearby. All that was needed now was a light, flexible fabric. After a few hours, I found a flag that would suit the job well.
Now that the easy part was over, I needed some tools to put together the machine. It took about a month to secretly borrow all of the necessary tools from 5, and luckily he was too busy with 7 and 8 to notice. Yes, 8. He was huge compared to us, but he did help a lot. Especially during the war. Before, we all stayed at the Scientist's house. Our created urged us to follow 1 and find a safe place to go. We found sanctuary eventually, but not before the world fell quiet. 5 fell as well, losing one of his optics. He learned to function well with one eye, he said it made it easier to concentrate.
After the coast was clear, I started to scout again. Soon enough, I sent the spark of life to my creation. The first thing it did was screech and then it stared directly at me. It didn't do anything, just stared. I was so transfixed, so distracted, that I didn't notice when 5 spoke behind me.
6, get away!
No, 5, you don't- I made it.
What?
I made it. It won't hurt me.
I don't trust that thing, 6. Please-
No!
My cry of desperation and anger was soon followed by the sound of a chain being cut. Then, I watched as my creation flew away, right through the hole which should be filled with a windshield. I only just caught a glimpse of 7 before she scurried off.
It was dangerous, 6, whatever that was.
You make things all of the- all the time!
Nothing like that!
Why, why can't you trust me?
You know I trust you, 6.
Why did you send 7?
I don't know, I- you think I sent her? That I came with her?
You love her.
By then I started to walk off. I didn't want him to change, I couldn't let him. The same 5 that used to coax me to going back to sleep was now doing the same to 7, who might not even need it. It's hard, knowing that.
He eventually caught up to me, but we didn't talk for the rest of the walk back. When we went inside of the sanctuary, 1 told us the news. 7, 3, and 4 are gone. 7 didn't return, and 3 and 4 went looking for her. They haven't returned.
I looked over to 5, who was visually depressed. I was wrong, and I now knew that. He didn't love her, he was only being a friend. He was the same when I first came along. I can't blame him for being friendly, he just wants to know if you're okay. He'll like you if you're different, because he's different, too. Not just now, on the outside, but then, on the inside.
He went up to the watchtower, where I soon joined him. He wasn't doing anything, just watching the sunset.
I'm sorry, 5. I- I didn't mean it.
You think I love her?
I- I don't know. I wanted, I mean- I felt bad. You didn't like me anymore.
I was just trying to make her feel at home, 6. Like she belonged. She's one of us, now. No, she's not just like me, but that doesn't mean I should just ignore her.
Like me. I belong, you- you told me.
And you do. You're a good person, 6. My best friend.
We both smile at that, and I look out to the horizon, gleaming colors of orange and yellow. It makes me wonder what I could've done. I felt like it was my fault 7 was gone. 3 and 4, too.
End. Day is gone.
Yeah, but there will be another one tomorrow.
What will happen?
I don't know. That's what makes it special, I suppose.
He will come.
Who?
Another. 8 wasn't last. There- there will be 9.
A couple of days have passed since then, and my prediction was right. He came, 9. I didn't mind when 5 took to taking care of him and showing him around and all that stuff.
I started to get nervous when I heard that 2 had died. I didn't even know we could die, to be honest. Next thing I know, while 1 and 9 were fighting, my creation, which I thought was long gone by now, smashed through the stained window.
I was shocked, I didn't know what to do. I looked over at 5, who was about as surprised as me. I gripped hard on my key, hoping to protect it from the beast. My mind told me it was dangerous, but my heart knew it was still my child, my invention.
I was shaken back into reality when I felt 5 dive onto me, pushing me out of the way. I look to where I was standing, now covered by a needle attacked to a string. Tracing the red wire back, I noticed that it tried to kill me. It was no longer mine.
I could see its tail, trying to retract back (I really don't know where it came from) from the wooden floor. I ran up to it, frantically trying to untie it. Without it, the beast couldn't hurt us. I was hit, though, before I could untie the final knot.
The winged creature swung its claw at me, hitting me hard in my chest. I flew over to the other side of the room, onto a maze of broken glass. Ink leaked out of me, indicating my ink reserve was damaged, among other internal parts.
My vision was blurring, I could hear a ringing noise. Everyone but 9 and 5 were long gone, and 9 was trying to usher 5 into the bucket lift to leave also. 5 kept looking my way, a hope that I was still alive. I was unsure myself.
The beast noticed the emptiness of the room, the absence of 1 and 8. Retracting its tail, it then flew off, smashing through yet another window. 5 took the opportunity and ran over to me, noticing I was indeed still alive. He places my arm around his shoulder and we staggered over to the bucket. I managed, with all the strength I was sure was left, to tell him something before we went down.
Get pen. Spark- sparks come. Gas, gas. No fly. Sharp.
What does he want, 5?
Sparks... gas… oh, 6! 9, wait for me to come back!
As told, we waited until he came back. I used the pen for support until we found 8 and 1. They were on the roof, trying to find a way down. The creature was circling overhead, its needle missing. I guess it fell off when it took back off, luckily.
5 sat me down carefully as he took my pen over to 8. I loved that pen, but I don't know why I had it. I guess in case one of my nibs broke, I'd have a replacement. I could tell he figured out my plan easily, 5. I wasn't the best welder, and some of the metal and wires came undone. Sparks came from the beast. Also, the whole building was surrounded by holes, which were just half-buried oilcans. If 8 could shoot the beast down, it'd probably be blown to bits. I lost respect for it when it tried to kill me. I'm sure everyone has the same policy.
After 5 was done talking to 8, he came over to me. 9 and 1 were trying to find ways to get down to the ground carefully, as we all couldn't fit in the bucket lift at the same time.
Can- can I go, 5? Let me go. It- it hurts.
No, stay here 6. You'll get through it.
I stared off at the sky as 8 threw the pen, straight as an arrow. I watched as it pierced through the creature's wing, sending a good tear through it. I watched as it fell, and I heard the explosion. I could hear the building itself start to damage, but the building continued to stand. The others came and stood beside us, looking at my wound.
Sun- sunset. Day ends, 5?
Come on, 6. Come inside. I can fix you.
What comes? Tomorrow?
I could see him getting upset. He closed his eye, then sighed and re-opened it. He placed my head in his lap, and tried his best to remain brave.
No- no one knows. That's why it's special, though. Yeah?
It will be okay.
How do you know?
You have 9.
Please don't go, 6.
It is not- not my decision. I am, 5. Leaving. It will be okay.
5 stared as his best friend died slowly in his arms. He held it close to him, like he was never going to let go. Even though the stitchpunks couldn't cry, 5 sounded like he was. He screamed, begging for his friend to come back. He cried over an empty body, felt an affection for someone who was gone, and claimed he loved him, for no one to reply.