It was dark, the only light came from a small hole in the cave. Or at least it looked like a cave.
He wasn't alone though, 3 and 4 were there too. They were huddled up against him, shivering in fear. Another stitchpunk was standing away from them.
The stitchpunk turned around. Head bowed down in grief.
This one was much different than the other nine. This one was scarier looking: She had a faded piece of red yarn tied around her head, her mouth was cut up into five slits, there were four metal plates on her back that stuck upwards and downwards. If she had a number, he didn't know. It was too dark to see it. If it was on her back or not, he didn't know either.
She smiled. Something that look outrageously foreign on her face. Bringing a fish hook finger to her mouth she shushed the three stitchpunks.
"Don't make a move" She said.
She pushed the twins out of the way.
"I only need you now"
Suddenly, her face contorted into a demonic being and she lunged.
An object flashed before his eyes.
6 bolted up in his makeshift bed. The dream had been going on for a week, every night since the day he and the other fallen stitchpunks were restored. 9,7 3 and 4 knew who restored them but they chose not to talk about her.
They had found an abandoned shed and took it as their temporary home.
The nightmare always ended the same way too: just after the mysterious stitchpunk lunges towards him, he sees an object; a strange object too, it looked like a wingless butterfly with worms hugging its sides. He didn't know what it meant though. His visions were usually so vivid, this one was fuzzy and he could never remember exactly how it looked when the vision was over.
Nonetheless, 6 rolled out of bed and searched for paper. At least he was going to try to draw it.
But something stopped him when he got to his feet; like a large mass was surrounding him. He looked around, nothing, there were the other stitchpunks sleeping around him. They didn't seemed disturbed by the heavy presence 6 felt.
6 sat back down.
"A leaders brush" he said.
XXX
10 trudged the emptiness, it was already nightfall but she wouldn't give up on It. she'd search night and day if she had to.
10 always wondered what the world would have been like if she had lived to have a soul, not be controlled by a mass that she couldn't see. She wondered if her life would have been different if she was alive when the war was going on, to see what the world was like before. Before the war, before the machines, before the fabricator.
That's right, she knew all about the fabricator. It had told her, It told her everything. It told her that the scientist was going to make her the one to save the earth from the fabricator, but gave it to a stitchpunk called 9.
'why?' 10 had asked.
'Because he thought you were a monster' It lied to her 'He thought you would turn dark and kill us instead. So he locked you away. I was the one who saved you'
She stuck by Its side ever since then. Obeying It's every command, what could she do? It was the only thing she knew.
Reviving the stitchpunks was the first command It had given her. She created all those rag dolls by hand, sure she might have mixed a few things up but she was sure she had gotten them near perfect.
But what was the purpose?
That was the only thing 10 couldn't grasp, It had mentioned her that It wanted the stitchpunks dead, but why would It tell her to bring them back if they were going to die?
Unless...
No! No! It couldn't be, although it was very possible...
10 sat on the only window of the shed the Stitchpunks sheltered. If she strained her eyes she could see the small figure of the striped one they called 6. For some reason she was drawn to that one, she just couldn't take her eyes off him.
"A leaders brush" she heard him say before lying back down.
10 bowed her head.
"A warriors touch" She murmured before disappearing into the night, waiting for daylight.
A/N: Sorry for the chapter being to short, they'll get longer.
Oh My! what does that somewhat creepy rhyme mean? A leaders brush and a warriors touch? Stay tuned to find out.
-Glampyra
