Chapter Two: Mixed Feelings
-0-0-0-
Prototypes, The Scientist thought as he opened the box, I shouldn't be handling these. Inside the box were seven ragdolls, each had a number-10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16.
Picking up 16, he saw an illusion-no-a memory of the past. Ah yes…his daughter. She was like any other little girl, with messy hair and the childish aspiration to become a beautiful princess one day. Ah yes, the kind of little girl who always wanted extra sprinkles on her dessert or a new toy every week. So full of life.
But all that vanished the year 1918.
The Scientist frowned, moving 16's little hand up and down. A true runt of the litter, but the little ragdoll is suppose be like that. He, when playing around with the construction of these little dolls was secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, the smallest of the ragdolls could come out like his daughter…but of course, with time short, he never got around to awakening the seven ragdolls, in fact, he never intended to awaken them. So he placed them in box and tried to forget about them.
But alas…here he was, with the box in his lap and 16 in his hands. He blew some air out, cleaned the sweat off his forehead. The Scientist glanced over at the apparatus. Should he…?
No, no! Imagine the stress on an already fragile body. But still, to not awaken his creations would be like terminating a pregnancy. But the time…so little left! His mind was in war, should he or shouldn't he?
And from nowhere, he remembered a little girl's giggle again. He made a straight, frustrated face, and then made his final decision.
-0-0-0-
After putting 5 back next to an unfinished 6, The Scientist then proceeded to strap the ragdoll numbered '10', a light tanned, three buttoned one, in.
I can't believe I'm doing this, The Scientist mulled over in his mind.
He connected himself to the apparatus and in a flash of green-he was finished. Clearing his throat, he leaned over to see what 10 had become of.
-0-0-0-
'With thoughts of both regret and gladness, I awakened 10 today. She is like a young mother really, both maternal and stern. The minute she awoke, she gave me a smile and simply stood in my hand. I could sense a feeling of irritation in her when I failed to realize she wanted to come down.
She reminds me of what I hated and also loved in my own mother-composed but so very firm. 10 is someone I myself would not like to mess with. She is the type that would throw harsh lectures than objects. But, I can see a soft side in her that I can't explain. Her assertive, practical demeanor will assist the others along the way.
All this talk of mothers reminds me of the millions that will be lost in the coming days. I should stop writing, for now.'
The Scientist peeked out the door to see where all his awakened creations were. He spotted only 2, who was busying himself with what we call junk. He smiled, knowing at least one of his creations was becoming familiar to his home.
-0-0-0-
Silently closing the door, The Scientist checked the time, eight twenty-seven PM, still some time.
Going back to the box, he strapped in the doll numbered '11', a camel colored doll with a line of stitching down the front.
-0-0-0-
'Frightened but caring, 11 gave out this atmosphere when she awoke. She awoke with the notion that I intended to kill her, so she struggled to get free. In the process, she cut my finger. When she saw what she had done, she covered her mouth in horror, and then franticly tried to stem the little bleeding I had.
This type of compassion is rare in my world today. She is like 10, only over-protective rather than stern. She kept a watchful eye on me, making sure I wouldn't be hurt again. When she was assured that I would be safe, she left, but I feel she's still watching me…somewhere. It is her caring nature that will provide the others with much needed protection.
It's nearing ten o'clock, but I'm sure I can fill in one more of the prototypes.'
Stretching his arms out, he reached for a doll numbered '12', a copper shaded one with curved stichings on the shoulder and thigh. He placed the doll onto the apparatus, the last one for today.
-0-0-0-
'I'm exhausted, but I know I will forget to write this down in the morning. 12 awoke about ten minutes ago, and she doesn't seem to be adjusting to well. She is agile and swift-almost sneaky; only, she is bashful, and even a little obdurate to this new world. When she awoke, she merely looked up at me, then jumped and sped off to behind the desk.
12 doesn't seem to want to associate with me at all, but she's not mean-just unadjusted. From the way she works a shard of glass, I believe she has a talent for combat, but her lack of poise could be a problem. She's off in a corner, I think, and she doesn't seem to want to associate with any of the others. Her headstrong nature and combat skills can maybe make up for her lack of confidence. But I know, as with the others, that she will contribute to their mission.
That's enough for today. A man needs his sleep.'
And with that, he left for bed.