Do you guys know what I've never seen on fanfiction for the Sonic games? I have never seen a steam punk story! For those of you that don't know what steam punk is, the world in 'The Golden Compass' is steam punk. It's like Victorian era England meets sci-fi. If you still don't get it you might want to google it or don't. You don't need to get steam punk to get this story. Anyways, the point is, instead of sitting around and waiting for one to be made I said, 'why not do it myself?' So here it is! I hope you guys like it! Read and review, please!
Amy Rose's bare feet pounded on the cobblestone road. The yells of angry robotized guards called to her from further down the road.
Damn this long dress, she thought, as she grabbed it so the front hem was half way up her thigh. It was hardly appropriate for a lady to conduct herself in such a way. Amy knew that. But she'd rather sacrifice her pride than her freedom.
It was the dead of night. No carriages were on the dimly lit, dangerous city roads at this time of night, luckily for the petite pink hedgehog. But there were two worse things she had to worry about. The drunken men on the side walk made cat calls at the sight of her, a lone woman exposing her legs. And, of course, the guards were still chasing her.
The guards' yells were, incoherent to her. Not that she really cared what they were saying. She cared more that they had shown up at her father's inn with a warrant for her arrest. Her legs pumped faster and faster as she heard them getting closer and closer behind her. Suddenly they went silent. There was no more angry guards, just drunken men yelling for booty. Where did they go?
Don't look back, she reminded herself. It'll slow you down.
And yet, being the easily distracted girl she was, she looked back. There was no one there, she had lost them somehow. She was so engulfed by the sight of her presumed safety that she didn't notice the dark figure ahead of her. She slammed into him with her full force. Amy, was small. The man didn't so much as stumble. But she found herself with her bottom to the floor, squatting in the dirty streets.
"Well, lookie what I got here," the man cackled with his east end London accent. She could tell in a split second the man was unrefined. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close to him. He smelt of alcohol and tobacco on his breath. "What a pretty thing. Yer eyes are real nice, little un'. Would ya do a poor ol' man a favour and 'ave a drink with me?"
Amy nearly gagged at his stench. On top of his breath, he smelled like he had been crawling around in the sewer system.
"Wait a secon'! Yer that filly the guards were lookin' fer!" She looked at him in utter shock with her wide, emerald eyes. How'd this old drunken bastard know? "You gotta thousand pound bounty on yer head, girly. Imagine how much ale I'll get me for a thousand pounds!" The man cackled and dragged her down the street. He sang gaily as he went. Amy tried everything she could to free herself from his dirty grip. But, she supposed, years of being a working class citizen had made him strong. That, by no means, meant she gave up. She fought against his iron like hands. The man wasn't even phased. Amy was exerting all her strength, yet got nothing in return.
Amy looked ahead into the darkness, seeing three robotized guards standing under a nearby lamp post. Their heads turned and she heard their metal bones groan inside of them. She shivered. They had once been men with families. Now they were nothing but hollowed out bodies with clock work parts inside. As she came closer to them she noticed the two things that differentiated these beasts from other people. Their eyes would glow yellow like candles in the night and their heads—Amy shuddered. She didn't even want to think about their heads. In the place of the top right corner of their skull there was a clear glass dome. It displayed the clockwork where their brains should have been.
"I gotcha a present, gov'!" The old man yelled to the guards.
"Please, sir!" Amy begged. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. She was nothing but an object to trade for more liquor. The guards began to speak in their robotic language to one another. Their exchange continued for a while as Amy's heart pounded in fright. Their conversation stopped and their glowing eyes beamed at her for a split second.
One approached and grabbed her roughly by the arm. If she had thought the old man had an iron grip she was disproved. The guards hands coiled around her and tighten like a constrictor with titanium bones. Amy whimpered and ceased her struggles. She knew there was no hope of escaping now. If she were to try she'd probably have her arm ripped off.
"Can I 'ave da dough? Ya promised a thousand pounds to whoever turned 'er in?" Amy averted her eyes, knowing all too well what would happen. One of the guards approached the man and placed one hand on each side of his face before jolting his skull to the side with force enough to break his neck. All Amy heard was the sickening crack of his upper spine. Then came the blood curdling sound of skin, tearing like a fabric, as his the dead man's head was dismembered.
Amy had not been the only one running that night. In the grasslands, directly outside the Imperial City, a boy ran with the wind at heels, pushing towards his destination. He shoved aside the tall, dry, summer grass so it could not slow him down. He had news for his master, news that could change the world, let alone their miniscule gypsy caravan.
The boy saw the lights of lamps ahead of him through the thicket. The eager messenger pumped his legs faster. Bursts of light came off and he knew that his master had to be awake. There could be no other reason but target practice for the flashes. As he came closer he knew he was correct as bangs echoed through his ears.
He emerged from the tall glass into a clearing where the gypsies had flattened the long blades to make room for their temporary settlement. He ran through crowds of drunk men, working men, women with children on their hips, children running home to their mothers. People grunted and hollered as he pushed passed them. He had no time to regard their anger. They'd thank him later for the news he was about to deliver. At the back of the camp was a hill, rising above the rest of the flatlands. Atop the hill was the most luxurious tent of all the ones set up below. The boy ran through the tent, couple of surprised people jumped as he did, and headed straight out the back to find the owner of the tent firing a pistol at a makeshift target. The boy sighed in relief upon finding that the man was there.
From the tent behind him the startled people he had run in on came out, thoroughly disgruntled.
"Oi! You! What do you think you're-" a red echidna started bellowing before he was cut off by his ivory bat companion.
"Miles?" She inquired. The boy, a twin-tailed yellow fox turned to the female bat and nodded, too winded to speak quite yet. "Sonic sent you out only an hour ago. Do you have news already?"
The red echidna's eyes widened, realizing who the boy was. "Sorry, kiddo. You just scared me. What did you find that made you run out here from a scouting trip so early?"
Miles looked towards the man, still shooting at his target, and watched him in a daze. The way he handled the pistol was just the way Miles had designed it to be. It was extraordinary the way he had learned to use it so perfectly in only a short week.
Regaining his original train of though, Miles realized he still had work to do. He headed off towards the man to tell him the news. As he came closer he recognized the qualities of his master. He was a royal blue hedgehog with wild, unkempt quills. He wore only a loose fitting pair of trousers, a white dress shirt and his ragged riding boots. He stood as tall as a king, probably because he was one in a small way, and took no regard to his surroundings. The only thought on his mind was his target.
"Sir," the fox addressed the blue hedgehog.
"Sonic," his master muttered, not turning away from his activity. "My father was a 'sir.' I'm just Sonic."
"Sonic," Miles tried again. "I have news from the Imperial City about His Highness's household."
"And I care about this because...?" Sonic trailed off, taking another shot at his target.
"Because it's about the Iron Heir," he pressed forward. "There's a witch hunt going on as we speak. They're looking for Pythia, Sonic. They say she's risen again."
"'He who has Pythia shall make the future'" Sonic quoted an old text. He paused for only a second before continuing on. "It's only a myth."
Miles shook his head. "Sir, I think I saw her."
Sonic jolted to a halt. The gun fell from his hand as he turned his jade eyes on his boy for the first time. He saw Pythia? She was real?
"She was tiny and pink. She didn't look like much but she was definitely a witch like all the others they were rounding up."
"Why do you think it was Pythia?" Sonic asked in a hushed, blank tone.
"Because she dropped these." Miles took a deck of cards from the pocket of his trousers. They were hand painted and fairly new. On each card was a painting of a fortune. These were the oracle, Pythia's cards. These were tarot cards.
"Rouge!" Sonic yelled to the bat, still standing on top of the hill. She ran down with her echidna husband in tow.
"What is it?" She asked.
Sonic gave her a smile, the first genuine smile he had shown in a month. "How are your acrobats?"
Rouge shrugged. "They're rusty but good. Why?"
"Because," the gypsy king laughed. "We're going to offer our services for the Imperial wedding."
"Look at all this fresh meat," the Emperor walked back and forth, examining the line of twenty or so women.
The emperor was a tall man with a ample belly and a red, curly moustache. When he passed Amy she could smell the sickening amount of perfumes he used to cover the pungent smell she knew was underneath. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, fighting the urge to plug her nose for fear she might be whipped by one of the guards tailing their king.
"If I wasn't looking for Pythia I might have them all for myself," some pudgy human politicians trailing the Emperor laughed at his morbid comment.
Amy looked to her feet, fighting back tears. Some of these girls were young enough to be his grand daughters. How could he speak of them this way? Amy tried once more to slide her hands through the cuffs that restrained her but only managed to open one of her scabby wounds. She hissed at the sting and closed her eyes, praying to Chaos that this torture would end soon.
Let me die, she cried in her mind. If you love me, Lord, you'll let me die.
The emperor reached the end of the line and turned back around. This time he smirked at each of them as he passed by. If they were truly looking for the virgin oracle, Pythia, Amy knew what would come next.
"Strip them," Emperor Robotnik called to his robotized guards.
They did as told. Amy felt the titan hands rip the back of her dress, just as the same happened to the other girls. She heard them scream and watched them struggle as their dresses and corsets were ripped down, leaving them bare and exposed to the human men. Amy stayed still and silent, picturing her happy place. It was useless to try to resist now. She had to save her strength for when she really needed it. Now was not the worst time she would face.
"Bend them," the emperor chortled.
Amy felt a cold, hard hand push her back down. Screams raised from the other women. Amy shut her eyes tightly. She wasn't here. She was at home, laying by the fireplace with a cup of tea as her bother braided her quills. She was in her father's office, listening to him read the fantastical works of ancient poets. She was anywhere, absolutely anywhere but here.
"Check them."
If the girls were screaming before they were shrieking now.
"We'll know which one's could be Pythia when we know which ones are pure."
Oddly enough, out of all the girls, Amy was the one who screamed the loudest.
This story is a lot more intense and a lot darker than anything I've written before. It is also a lot harder to write considering this is a new style for me and I don't write in third very much. More than anything else this story is an experiment. Review with your feedback and tell me if you would like me to continue.