A/N: Uni and life commitments have been eating me alive so apologies for the slow updates! I'm still working on this story, slowly but surely. Here's a slightly longer chapter to keep you lovely readers satisfied for a while! I hope you enjoy it :D

Warnings for this chapter: Nondescript vomit, some suicidal ideation, taxidermied people and gross stuff that comes with the Hunter's shack.

...oOo...

Chapter 6: Remembering

Six

There was a hot, throbbing ache in Six's skull. Her eyes were still closed, as consciousness hadn't fully returned to her yet, but her features were twisted into a pained grimace. Why did her head hurt so much…? That awful hammering sound wasn't helping…

Semi-awake, she slowly turned her head left and right. It didn't hurt too much if she moved carefully, but staying still and resting would be her best option. If only that hammering would stop…

Wait. Hammering. That meant someone else was here with her! Six's eyes snapped open in an instant, but she remained still so she wouldn't alert whoever was making that sound. She realised she was laying face-down on a scratchy rug, with grey daylight filtering in through a dusty window nearby. She was in a small room with minimal furniture, except for a low table and some hunting equipment like traps and metal hooks. The air smelt like decay.

Six's memories of how she'd ended up here came flooding back as she made note of her surroundings. She'd been in the Wilderness, running from the Hunter who had found her. He'd tricked her and knocked her unconscious with the butt of his gun, which was why her head hurt so much. And now it seemed like she'd been carried into his dwelling while she was unconscious. Six shivered as she thought about how he would've picked her up and carried her through the trees to bring her here, while she was unconscious and vulnerable. But...if he hadn't killed her instantly and had instead brought her back here, then what was he planning to do with her? She recalled how even when the Hunter had been firing his gun at her, the shots had been to stun, not to kill. He wanted to keep her alive for some reason.

Very slowly, Six chanced a look over her shoulder to see that it was indeed the Hunter who was making the hammering sound. She had a clearer view of him now that they weren't in the darkness of night, and the only thing separating them was a few feet of space. He was kneeling by the door, turned slightly away from her and using the back of a handaxe to hammer long nails into planks of wood, boarding up the broken door that was Six's only escape. His rattling, ragged breaths filled the air and sent a new wave of fear over Six. Evident from the way he was boarding up the door with planks, he was trying to trap her here in this room - but why?

Very slowly, Six moved into a crouch, her eyes traveling from the deadly handaxe and nails in the Hunter's hands, to what was outside the room and further away. She could make out a staircase in the next room. A way out...or at least away from him.

Whatever it was the Hunter was planning to do with Six, she didn't want to hang around and find out. Maintaining her crouch, she snuck along the rug and closer to him and the door. The rug muffled her footsteps as the distance between them shrunk. With each strike of his handaxe into the nails, Six resisted the urge to flinch.

Her toes moved off the rug and onto wooden floorboards. She carefully tested the floor, spreading her weight evenly so the wood wouldn't creak. A single sound from her could cost her freedom.

Further, further...Six stayed in her crouch as she inched closer to the Hunter. She came close enough for him to easily grab her, as was necessary to get past and out of the room...but still, he hadn't noticed her. Six supposed the hammering was actually helping muffle any possible noise she was making. She moved directly behind the Hunter now, peering out into the next room. The staircase was still a great distance from her, but it was closer than ever. Six set her jaw, took a deep, silent breath and tried to ignore the pain in her head. Onwards.

She crept over the threshold and past the Hunter. She'd made it out of the room! In the next, larger room before her was a high table that held a sewing machine. Sacks of stuffing and spools of thread lay on either side of the table, suggesting that the Hunter didn't just hunt: he also sewed. Six ignored those details for now, focused solely on what was beyond them - the staircase.

There'd be nowhere to hide as she crossed the room, meaning she'd be completely visible and out in the open even if she snuck. She didn't need stealth anymore, she needed speed. Six would have to make a run for it and pray that the Hunter didn't notice her, or at least not straight away.

Six waited until the Hunter was distracted by his hammering again and then shot off, her tiny feet pattering against the floorboards as she sprinted to the staircase. She listened for the signs of the Hunter noticing her as she ran - a sudden halt in the hammering, maybe a grunt or a roar of anger, deadly boots stomping towards her - but none of those sounds came until she'd reached the bottom of the staircase.

There it was. The roar. The hammering abruptly stopped as Six had predicted, and seconds later the heavy tread of boots grew closer and closer. Six didn't dare waste time by looking back at him. She already had a head start, and she couldn't afford to lose it. The first two steps of the staircase were broken, so she hauled herself onto the third and ran for dear life. There was no way of knowing where the exit was, but for now, all Six could do was run. Run and hope.

She climbed to the top of the stairs and squeezed through the open door, the wheezing breaths of the Hunter right behind her. She was met by a hallway, but the doors along it were closed and she had no way of reaching the handles. No choice but to run past them.

At the end of the short hallway, she could go either left or right. To her right was another closed door. To her left was an open one. She scrambled through the left door, but what she saw straight after brought her to an abrupt halt.

There was a table with a family seated around it. Six gasped and immediately shrank into a crouch out of fear of being caught by these enemies too, but then she noticed something odd about them. The man, woman and child were not moving. They weren't even alive. They'd been taxidermied, posed around a dining table laden with rotting food.

Bile burned in Six's throat but she pushed it down and kept running, locking her eyes on her destination instead of the taxidermied bodies. Ahead of her was a shelf that she could climb, and then a gap in the wall she could dive through without being followed. She leapt for the shelf and climbed as fast as she could.

But she'd wasted too much time. The Hunter had caught up to her in the seconds that she'd been shocked by the taxidermied family, and his hand was closing tightly around Six's waist, plucking her easily from the shelf.

Six hit her tiny fists against him in vain, kicking and gasping. She wasn't the kind of child to scream often, but scream she did. Rage overflowed and she yelled out, squirming against the Hunter's hand as tears spilled from her eyes. Her head hurt so much, and his hand was clenching her so tightly it was hard to breathe, but she couldn't give up! She had to find Eight! She had to save her and all the other kids! She'd come so close to escaping from here! She had to find a way out! So close...so close!

Six fought with all her strength, thrashing and screeching like a cornered animal. She raked her fingernails against the Hunter's skin, and bit at his fingers with her teeth as hard as she could, but her efforts were all useless. The pain in her head flared up at all the commotion, making the corners of her vision darken. He was carrying her back downstairs to where she'd started, ignoring the primal, desperate cries from his prey. Six fell unconscious a second time as she was placed back in the room. The last things she thought about were the rawness in her throat from all her screaming, and Eight's vivid, smiling face.

...oOo...

The Hunter had given Six a music box to keep her company in the dusty little room that she was boarded up in. He'd also given her food, and kept doing so day after day even when there was no sign that the girl had even touched it. Six had tried to eat it at first, hoping that she'd be able to eat normal food again now that Shadow Six was dormant, but after the first few bites of canned food, she'd thrown up in the corner and been unable to move due to intense weakness.

It was the same result as any other time when she'd tried to eat outside of one of her Hunger attacks. She couldn't eat unless she was having an attack. But...she hadn't had a Hunger attack at all since coming into contact with that strange force that made the air thick and suffocating. She didn't feel any kind of hunger at all, be it the normal kind or the crippling kind related to her curse from the Lady. It had been a week now, according to her chalk markings on the wall, and Six hadn't felt even mildly hungry. The force had suppressed Shadow Six, her powers and her Hunger. It seemed all three of those things were interrelated. But even despite their absence, she still hadn't become a normal kid again like she'd hoped to be. Six believed those things were still there, inside her somewhere. They were just dormant because of that force, but she was sure that if she was outside its influence, they would come back to her. She wasn't sure how to feel about it. She liked that Shadow Six and the Hunger curse were no longer tormenting her, and she longed to be free of them both for good, but she missed having her powers. Having them would mean she could escape from the Hunter and find Eight and the others.

Six sighed and wound the handle on the music box for the hundredth time, listening to the sweet melody that poured out. It was one of the few comforts she had here, and she doubted she would ever tire from it. She was fairly certain why the Hunter wanted to keep her as a prisoner here. He was probably going to taxidermy her eventually, like the family she'd seen, but Six guessed that he'd never taxidermied such a small, delicate being like herself before. It would be a difficult project for his huge hands, so he would have to gather the right supplies and tools before he was ready to begin. Six's time was running short. It could be any moment now that he decided he was ready to start. It could be tomorrow, or it could be in ten minutes.

Six had accepted her fate though. There was no way to break out of the tiny room. She'd tried every possible escape - trying to pull off the boards over the door, trying in vain to reach the window that was far too high up, even trying to look for some sort of secret entrance or puzzle to solve like she was back on the Maw. All attempts had been futile.

Six was finally at the end.

I'm sorry, Eight, Six thought as she wound the handle once more and let the music box play. Her mind still felt foggy. I'm useless. I ran away. I can't protect you anymore. You're better off without me. I'm completely useless and I should just give in.

Images of Eight, Three, Twenny...and all the other children and Nomes she'd escaped the Maw with flashed in her mind. They looked afraid and desperate, searching with wide eyes for anyone who could help them. Six focused on each of their faces as they passed, whispering 'sorry' to all of them.

An unfamiliar face came into her mind, the image of a girl with a black braid that hung down her front. Her hair was tied with a red ribbon and she had a yellow raincoat hood over her head. The image of the girl's face expanded into a memory. The girl was throwing herself against a tall metal gate, urging Six to do the same so it would burst open and let them escape.

Six's eyes widened as she remembered. In an instant, her entire past returned to her, the spell of the Maw breaking and her memories returning. It was like a switch had been flicked in her brain. She remembered! She remembered who she was, her past! She remembered that girl, that girl who had previously owned the raincoat!

Her mind whirled with memories as she fit the pieces of her past together in chronological order. The very first thing in her memory was the Orphanage, where she'd lived since age five.

...oOo...

Six obediently sprang out of bed when the chime sounded on that fateful morning. Today was an Adoption Day at the Orphanage, a kind of day that didn't come often, but was very important when it did.

After making her bed and dressing in her simple white t-shirt and shorts, Six left her dormitory room and climbed down the stairs, lining up with the rest of the girls at the foyer of the Orphanage in ascending order by age. Since she was nine years old, she stood towards the end of the line with the older girls. She rubbed her eyes sleepily. It was still very early in the morning, but visitors would be coming soon to inspect the girls, and - if they were lucky - pick some to be their daughters.

The Matron arrived soon after the girls had lined up. She was the head of the girls' Orphanage, a stout, dignified woman who dressed in long-sleeved black dresses even in the heat of summer. Her gaze alone was enough to silence any misbehaviour, let alone the short wooden cane she carried to beat naughty girls with. But the Matron didn't have her cane today. None of the girls were at risk of being beaten close to an Adoption Day. Bruised children wouldn't be favoured by visitors.

The Matron walked slowly up and down the line, surveying the girls with her striking hazel eyes. Six tried to stifle a yawn, standing as straight and still as she could. The girls looked down at the floor as the Matron patrolled up the line, staring at the youngest girls and working her way up to where Six stood with the older orphans.

"You! Stand straight!" the Matron barked at one of the younger girls, who immediately obeyed and went rigid. "You should know better than that, girl!"

None of the girls in this place had names. It was always 'you there!' or 'girl!', or if they were very unlucky, it was something like 'disgusting pest!' Six herself didn't even remember if she had a proper name at all. She had no idea who her parents were, or no idea about anything to do with them for that matter, but she was fairly sure they'd never named her. She'd been in the Orphanage since age five, and was too young to remember any life events prior to that, but she certainly would've remembered her name if she had one. Some of the other girls had pretty names like Agatha and Miriam, or made up their own names if they didn't remember the ones from their parents, but the Matron punished this. Everyone was nameless and without identity under her rule. Even so, names were still a precious thing the girls shared, and some of the older girls had affectionately come up with names for the younger ones. Six, at that time, had been offered many different names, but since none of them had been her 'true' name, she'd preferred to be nameless as she always had. The other reason was that she didn't want the Matron to beat her.

Six still had to yawn. She resisted the urge to cover her mouth, keeping her arms obediently by her sides as she stood straight like a soldier. She bit her tongue slightly, trying to keep it in.

The Matron's heavy steps echoed throughout the foyer as she moved further along. They were the only sounds in the whole vicinity. Suddenly, the Matron paused again. The room was completely silent. It was so quiet that Six was sure that the Matron could hear her blinking.

"You! Stop trembling!" The Matron shouted at another girl, who squeaked in fear and shook even more intensely after being yelled at. A frustrated rush of air escaped from between the Matron's teeth, and she leaned in close to the girl, putting her face close to hers. "I. Said. Stop."

"I'm s-sorry," the girl whimpered, unable to look the Matron in the eye. "I can't help it, m-ma'am."

Six's yawn was building. There was no way she could hold it back now, despite biting her tongue hard. She decided to let it out while the Matron was focused on the other girl, discreetly raising her hand to cover her mouth.

The Matron was upon her in an instant. "You there! How dare you yawn in my presence?"

Six shrunk into herself, her eyes hidden under her dark fringe. "I'm very sorry, ma'am."

"And so you should be," the Matron said icily. "You want to be a good girl, don't you? Only good girls get adopted."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Matron narrowed her eyes warningly at Six and the rest of the girls, then turned on her heel to face the front doors of the building. Six had only survived her mishap because the Matron had the more important task of welcome visitors.

There was only one visitor on that day. A balding man with very long arms and legs folded into a wheelchair. He wore a pair of goggles with red lenses and a dust mask over his mouth. Six's eyes drifted to the man's feet, which were twisted around the wrong way with the toes curled in on themselves. It looked painful.

The Matron smiled broadly, welcoming the man through the front doors so he could observe the line of girls. "Welcome, mister…?" she trailed off, asking the man's name.

"Craftsman," the man croaked.

"Craftsman…" A slight frown creased the Matron's brow before she corrected her expression into a more pleasant one. "Er...Mr. Craftsman, then. Please, come and inspect the girls. They are all very well-behaved; they'll give you no trouble at all."

The Craftsman wheeled himself forwards with his unnaturally long arms. It reminded Six of the way a spider moved. Her heart sank. She wanted to be adopted, but this man didn't seem very friendly. She purposefully slouched and made herself appear small, hiding most of her face behind the strands of black hair that curtained her face so he wouldn't pay much attention to her. She could feel the Matron glaring at her bad behaviour and knew it would cost her a beating later, but Six didn't care. She didn't want to be adopted by this creepy man.

To her misfortune, though, the Craftsman wheeled himself to the end of the line Six was at, beginning his inspection there. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his goggled eyes roaming over the girls like they were items for sale in a shop.

"A very good Fodder House," the man commented approvingly.

The Matron stiffened, her eyes darting to the orphans to see if they had understood what the Craftsman meant. "Oh, no, no, sir. You must be mistaken. This is an Orphanage."

The man didn't seem to have heard her. His dirty fingers were reaching slowly towards Six, who cringed away from him. The Craftsman brushed her fringe gently away from her face to reveal soft, smooth skin and rich brown eyes. "Pretty girl…" he murmured, almost to himself. "Good fodder. She will be pleased."

The Matron was still smiling fakely, praying that none of the girls knew what 'fodder' meant, or that the Orphanage was really a 'Fodder House' that supplied children to whoever wanted them, and for whatever purposes. Six herself wasn't sure what these words meant, but she didn't like them. She also didn't like the Craftsman's fingers on her, or the mysterious 'she' that he spoke of. Was 'she' going to be Six's mother, or a sister?

"I'll take this one," the Craftsman said, turning to the Matron as he pointed to Six. Six's blood froze.

...oOo...

Six didn't recall much of the journey to the Nest, except that the Matron had herded her and a few other girls selected by the Craftsman into a small, mostly empty room. The click of the door's lock behind them meant there was no escaping. After that, the Matron had brought out several needles. Everything had been a blur after that point, and when Six finally woke up, she'd found herself alone in a cage.

It was clear that the Craftsman would not be a loving father to her, and the 'she' he'd spoken of was none other than the heiress of the mansion. She was a girl a similar age to Six, who played with dolls made from the bodies of children the Craftsman had 'adopted' from orphanages.

One day when Six had been secretly passing through an air vent in the ceiling, she'd spied the girl having a tea party with her dolls down below. The Butler was there too, a hunched man who had strange abilities that let him move objects without touching them. His arms were bound behind his back and his hands were locked inside a golden, cylindrical mechanism that enslaved him.

Though the Butler was an obstacle in Six's escape, she did feel sorry for the way he was confined. As she watched, the Butler had accidentally spilled a pot of tea as he served the girl. Her screams had been so loud and piercing that they had momentarily paralysed not only the Butler, but Six as well with some supernatural power. Six referred to the girl as 'the Pretender.' Playing pretend was the most important thing to her, and anyone who interrupted her fantasies paid dearly.

Six had tried to escape from the Nest, successfully avoiding detection from the Craftsman, Butler and Pretender as she gathered supplies to leave the island that trapped her. Her raft was almost complete, and she'd set sail until she reached somewhere - anywhere - that was safe. The longer she stayed here, the more at risk she was of being caught and turned into another doll for the Pretender.

That's when the other girl had arrived. The girl in the yellow raincoat who had been with Six in her escape. Six had caught glimpses of her during her time at the Nest, but it hadn't been until a terrifying race from the Butler that they'd finally interacted. Six had been at the Nest's garden gate when she'd heard sounds of struggle nearby. The Butler was chasing a distinct figure in yellow, toppling statues with his telekinesis in an effort to crush her.

"Over here!" Six yelled, signalling to the girl. The raincoated girl dashed to Six, planting her hands firmly on the metal gate. "If we work together, I think we can get it open!"

"Right!" the other girl said immediately. "On three! One, two, three!"

Both girls slammed their shoulders into the gate's doors and it swung open. Six ran ahead immediately, the other girl following. "There's a shed up here we can hide in!" Six cried. "It's not too far, just follow me!"

"Ok," the girl nodded as she sprinted after her. "Lead the way."

...oOo...

It hadn't been that easy, though.

Six sighed and put the music box to one side, pressing the heels of her hands against her closed eyes. The face of the raincoated girl appeared in her mind again. She hadn't even learned her name.

I'm sorry, Six thought. I couldn't save you either.

Along with the Butler, the Pretender had joined the chase, pursuing the girl in the raincoat down the cliffside. Six had urgently followed, trying to guide the girl to safety. She'd managed to roll a boulder onto the Pretender's head, and, thinking the monster had been killed, both girls had let down their guard.

"Are you alright?" Six asked breathlessly.

"You...saved me!" the raincoated girl said back, her eyes wide and triumphant as she looked up at Six. She assessed herself for injuries, brushing dust off her raincoat. "Oh and yeah, I think I'm ok, thanks to you! Let's-"

Those had been her last words. The Pretender had launched herself at the raincoated girl and the two had plummeted down, down into the ocean below. That was the last Six had seen of either of them. Both the Pretender and the girl in yellow had perished in the ocean.

Six had known afterwards that she couldn't stay for long. The Butler would be somewhere nearby, searching for her. She'd have to leave on her raft, and quickly. So she'd set off, and that was when she'd found the girl's raincoat floating in the water.

"And now I've lost the raincoat, too," Six muttered bitterly to herself. "I couldn't even protect that, let alone her…"

Tears slid down Six's face as she crawled towards the music box and wound the handle again. The melody played once more, sweet and clear, but Six felt like the opposite of how the music sounded.

"I'm going to die here, Eight," she whimpered. "I can't get out. I can't save you, I couldn't save the other girl, and I'm a failure! I'm so, so sorry. Please forgive me…"

That foggy feeling in her mind was clouding her thoughts even more. It had been noticeable since she'd arrived on the Mainland and she'd tried her best to ignore it, but what was the point anymore? Give in, it said. Give in.

Six didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. She wound the music box over and over again, content to simply sit and listen until she withered away. The world was horrible, rotting. The music box offered an escape from that.

Give in, the Transmission lulled as she escaped deeper into the music. Give in.