Here's chapter three. I thought I'd be spending the whole weekend working on this. At least I managed to make it longer than expected. Goes what to show you.

The Ravager appears in this chapter again. Ooh, I wonder how they're going to take him down. Well, we'll see. ^_^ God, I am just so excited! *squeals* *throws fists in the air* This story's really taking off. :)

Get ready for chapter four.


Sunlight filtered through the open doorway. Water dripped in through the ruined roof. Last night's storm shook the world, sending it into turmoil. In the early hours of morning the storm had died down, allowing for a quick and unnoticeable relief to take place. A cool breeze blew in with a gloomy white mist blanketing the town. Whatever grass patches took up residence were laden with dewdrops.

9's optics blinked open, fractions of his memories returning by degrees. Images were hazy and disjointed, only remembering that he was waking up. And if he was waking up, it was only because he fell asleep. He fell asleep, and slept through the night. The last few nights were spent tossing and turning, battling sleep only to spend the daytime hours trying to stay awake. It was why he was so afraid of falling asleep. Being swallowed whole by darkness and metallic hands snatching him up, it paralyzed him from the very core.

Lying here gave him a forgotten security he thought he'd never feel again. It felt safer with 1's arm around him. 9 glimpsed down, seeing him still asleep. He felt more awkward when he looked down and saw his zipper down. He was bent on getting started on making the trip back home, and the sooner the better.

"1," he whispered.

There was no answer from him.

"1, wake up," repeated 9. "We have to get up if we're going to make it home."

9 heard a murmur, and 1's sharp fingers gripped his waist more tightly. His patience was wearing thin, and he didn't want to waste any more time being here no matter how comfortable he felt.

"1," said 9 more firmly.

1 nuzzled against 9's chest.

"Just a little longer," he muttered out at last.

It didn't placate 9, and leaving was still on his agenda.

"We really should get going," insisted 9. "I don't know how far the Ravager is." He craned his neck to see past their hiding spot. Glimpsing up, he saw the curtain completely soaked from last night's rain.

"The Ravager can wait," said 1, keeping his optics closed, "nothing will keep me from sleeping a little longer."

9 tried sitting up, but no matter how much he insisted, 1 tightened his grip, making getting up a struggle. When he wanted something, he got it; and it appeared that 9 was going to to be staying here longer.

With a sigh, he laid back down, optics staring straight at the ceiling. Tiredness still had a clamp on him, and he decided a little more sleep would help. He wrapped an arm around 1, tingles thrumming through his body. This received a sigh from 1, his other hand stroked 9's head. He inched closer to 9, so their faces were centimeters away. He kissed him full on the mouth, his hand that stroked 9's head slid down to the younger's waist. It seemed he was bent on continuing what they started last night.

After all, he deserved it.


7 strode past an overturned car pile beneath even more cars and dead Steel Behemoths. She dragged her spear's blade along a pile of bricks, unfazed by its sound. She hopped over a wire, whipping her spear back and forth. She tapped the end against the ground, her blade throwing off the sunlight.

Behind her, 8 glanced from the jagged-looking buildings to the sun cutting through the clouds. He raised a brow quizzically, the overwhelming nagging tugging at his chords. It was in his nature to be aware of his surroundings, the same reason it was in 7's nature to be on the lookout for anything dangerous. So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary...yet.

"Where d'ya think they've gone to?," asked 8, glimpsing down at 7.

"I have no idea," she replied, grabbing at her skullmet reflexively. She peered through a broken down car, then glimpsed away.

"What d'ya think 9 was up to when he went out?," he queried.

"I don't know." 7 hopped onto a brick, leaped down, then clanged her spear at a hanging fishing hook poking through a heap of sacks.

8 lifted his knife, raising a brow. He tapped the point to test out its sharpness. He looked at himself in its reflection, then lowered it, seeing how there wasn't any use for it at the moment.

"Ya think something's out here?," inquired 8.

"Probably," said 7, "if we run into anything, we know what to do."

8 snickered, sliding his knife back onto the magnet he carried on his back. He scooped 7 into his arms, causing her to yelp.

"Hey!," she hooted, planting a hand on his chest, kicking her legs. She waved her spear to reflect her annoyance.

This made 8 laugh, and he continued walking, ignoring 7's hand smacking his chest.

"If any beast comes and snatches you away," he said, smiling devilishly seductive, "I'll come to your rescue."

7 scoffed.

"Really?," she proclaimed, raised a stitched brow.

"Yeah, really," snapped 8, bringing her closer, "and I'll kill a thousand beasts just to have you in my arms."

"Oh you," uttered 7. She flung her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on the lips.

Their moment was broken when a noise resonated from some unknown point. 8 put 7 back down on the ground, both gripping their weapons. 7 lowered her bird skull while 8 donned on his salt shaker cap, peering through the holes. The two observed a rusty can ricochet off the hood of a car. That can didn't fly off by itself, so it was evidence of a beast's presence. Both got ready to face it.

A noise like a growl mixed with a howl cut through the air, sending chills down 8 and 7's spines.

An unspeakable moment passed when the beast finally emerged. It was an indescribable monstrosity that neither 7 nor 8 could put into words. It walked upright on metal pipe legs ending with rusty horseshoes. It had a steel pelvis while the beast's upper body was compiled of a bird skull for a head with one metal eye punctured and the other whole, which glowed red. Its forelimbs consisted of the same metal pipes ending with sharp claws with its chest covered in a mass of dark brown fur and feathers with wires sticking out of that covering, while more of those feathers trailed from its back. A tail with a spiked club swished back and forth.

7 bit her lip but kept her cool. She grasped her spear.

"Ready?," she said to 8.

8 grabbed his knife firmly, keeping his optics on the beast.

"As I'll ever be."

The two stitchpunks charged at the beast. 8 yelled, gartering the beast's attention. It shrieked ferociously.

8's butcher knife made contact with the beast's horseshoe. He managed to disconnect it from its leg, the wires just barely holding on. The beast screeched, then turned around. Its tail swished, the spiked club knocking 8 off his feet. He dropped his knife, head hitting the ground. He grunted as he sat up, glaring at the beast venomously.

"I have an idea!," called 7, hand cupped around her mouth.

8 watched cautiously, prepared to intervene. 7 observed the beast's tail, counting down the exact moment. It swished from the left to the right. She braced herself, keeping her hand gripping her spear. When the tail made a flick to the right, that was when 7 jumped, grabbing for the chain, rather than the spiked club. The beast roared.

"7!," hollered 8. "What are you doing?"

"Help me lead it somewhere!," yelled 7, looking over her shoulder. She kept a tight hold on her spear, and she looked up, beginning to crawl upwards.

8, reluctant, picked up his knife, readjusted his salt shaker cap, and rose to his feet. He ran after the beast, keeping his gaze focused on 7.

Dust was kicked by the beast's hindlegs, but it did not faze 8 in the slightest. That beast would regret encountering 8 if it dared rip 7 to shreds.


9 sat on the cushion, his back to 1. He pulled his zipper up, then absentminded grabbing at his forehead. Memories from last night leading to their romance was still embedded in his head. It was something he didn't expect, but it was certainly not something he regretted. He wanted it to happen. He wanted that night to happen. He wanted 1 to kiss him and hold him close. It was all he was desperate for since he resurrected. Now that he had it, he didn't want it to stop.

"That was...," said 9. He trailed off, not sure whether to say anything, or if he should say anything at all.

"Well," said 1, "it was...quite..something." He fastened the bottom buckle, gave it a tug, then fastened the buckle above that one. He picked up his cape and stood up, donning it on, carefully buttoning the brooch.

While 9 picked up his penknife and lightstaff, 1 plucked his crossbow, picked up the nail, then wandered off to search for something else he could use for a projectile. 9 strode past him the cushions, pushing the curtain aside, taking the moment to look at his surroundings. There was nothing but the silent air and the golden sunlight. Traipsing out, he maintained a level head while also remembering to look out for 1. The beast was still out there, and if they run into it, 9 was sure he and 1 would take it down.

He heard 1's footsteps approaching. Turning around, he saw he found another nail and a silver fishing hook to use; he held both in one hand while holding the crossbow in the other. 9 observed him slide the hook and nail into his buckled straps while he held the crossbow and placed the nail in, pulling the string back, like he were about to shoot. But 1 did not shoot and was only testing it out or trying to accentuate his boldness with it.

"You ready?," said 9.

"Yes," replied 1, lowering the crossbow.

"Alright, then let's go."

The two strode out the doorway to the ramshackle town that was the Emptiness. Wherever the Ravager was, it would be killed.

"Do you remember the way?," asked 1.

"Yeah," said 9, not meeting his gaze, "yeah I remember."

"Good. Wouldn't want to get lost."

Walking down the road, 9 kept a watchful eye out on the Emptiness from its ruined buildings to the piles of damaged vehicles. Grass patches took up most space where there wasn't anything metallic, and it didn't help that 9 saw a human hand half-hidden in the greenery.

"Still thinking of leaving?," uttered 1 suddenly, fiddling with the crossbow.

"Huh?," piped 9. "Oh, that. No. No, I'm not."

"Ah, well," began 1, tugging at the crossbow's string, "I was only thinking if you still had that in mind, I could accompany you."

"What?" 9's pupils protruded, brow raised.

1 held the crossbow to the side.

"It wasn't my first plan," he said, "I—" He stopped himself short, trying to get the right words out. "I followed you because I was worried about you, which is true, but it was because 2 convinced me to go."

"2?," said 9.

1 looked down at the ground.

"What does he—"

"It was because he wanted me to tell you—"

"Tell me what?"

"That I—"

1 stopped, then dropped his crossbow and nail, making 9 jump back. He stared at him when the elder stitchpunk grabbed his shoulders. Their faces were close to each other that it would only make this moment better with a kiss. Their lips only touched for a second when a noise startled them. The two looked over, waiting for the sound again.

9 kept his optics open to see whatever it was that made that noise. He took off in a sprint, leaving 1 stunned, but he picked up his crossbow and followed after him. He followed him down the path they took to get to their hiding place. 9 ran toward a path to his right, and 1 followed. He stopped when he saw 9 standing, alert but daunted. The elder stitchpunk stood beside him, glimpsing at 9, then looking at the road.

He heard it again, then he saw it. It was the Ravager. But not just him...he narrowed his pupils, catching a glimpse of something holding on to his back. 9 recognized the white of her fabric, the bird skull atop her head, and her sharp spear. 7.

He and 1 heard another shout, only it wasn't from the Ravager. They looked down and spotted 8 chasing after it, his butcher knife held with both hands, ready to stab the beast.

"Come on!," hooted 9, breaking off in a sprint. He dropped his lightstaff, opting for the penknife instead. 1 followed suit.

8, about to stab his other horseshoe, got knocked down when the Ravager's tail swished to his right, tripping him. He looked over, seeing a tear in his right leg on the bottom. He hissed under his breath as he came to a sitting position, planting his knife into the ground.

"8!," called 9.

The guard looked over, seeing him and 1 running up to him.

"What's going on?," asked 9, crouching over him, glimpsing briefly at 8's torn fabric. He glanced up at the Ravager, focusing on 7.

"She's trying to do something," remarked 8, looking at the pale stitchpunk. "I would've gotten his leg if he hadn't gotten out of the way."

9 glanced at 8 before looking back at the Ravager.

"We should try and help her," he said, rising to his feet, penknife gripped firmly.

"Wait, 9," quoth 1, grabbing his shoulder.

The zippered stitchpunk looked over at him. He patted his hand.

"Just trust me," he said, smiling in a convincing way.

1 didn't want to, but he let go of him, and allowed him to run after the beast. Seeing he needed to stop the Ravager as much as 9 did, he grabbed his crossbow, aimed it at the beast, pulling the nail back, ignoring 8's stumped look.

The Ravager thrashed his head, feeling 7's metal fingers cling to his fur and feathers. But 7 wasn't at all ready to let go. She clung to one of his wires, and brought her spear up. She clipped one; the Ravager cried out shrilly, his claws snatching at the air fruitlessly. The beast shook his head violently while 7 crawled further up his chest, grabbing at his fur. She nearly fell off when a nail landed right beside her to her left. She looked at the nail, then glanced down at the ground, spotting 1 with his crossbow. He pulled out the other nail and placed it in the crossbow.

"Grab a rope!," shouted 9.

7 turned her head and spotted him to the beast's right. Then she turned and saw 8 scramble to his feet, all while fighting back the pain in his torn leg. She looked at 1 for an answer. He gave her a nod, letting her know to keep going. She continued the climb, grabbing at the wires sticking out. She reached the top, not the neck but close enough. She clung to a clump of brown feathers. She saw a stray wire extruding from the fur and feathers. 7 held on, and snapped the wire, prompting the Ravager to scream out in agony.

She glimpsed down and saw 8 return with a rope. It looked damp, frayed and not very strong. But it would have to do, and she waited to see what they were about to do.

1 shot the nail at the Ravager, landing straight in its pelvis. He grabbed the fish hook, placed it into the crossbow and pulled back. This one he aimed for the neck, hoping with all his damnedest that it would send him asunder. He let go, watching it fly at the Ravager's neck, landing with precision. Electricity crackled around the neck; the beast let out a garbled bleat.

"8, now!," hollered 9.

The tall stitchpunk thew one end of the rope to 9. He caught it, and with 8 holding the other end, they stretched the rope as best as they could. The Ravager, in his unbridled turmoil, tripped over the rope. 7 crawled up closer to the beast's neck, grabbing onto the feather clumps. As the beast fell, she calculated the distance between her and the ground. Praying for the best, she grabbed her spear, leaped, holding her breath. She landed with a somersault, rose to her feet, and sprinted to the other side, just deftly escaping getting smashed under the Ravager's weight.

The Ravager's claws swiped at the air, anything to emphasis his wrath. 7 raised her spear, blade pointed toward the beast's face. She charged toward the Ravager's neck, aiming at the neck. Her spear rammed into the beast's neck, wincing at the beast's shriek. She glanced over and saw 8 cut off one of his claws. This earned another screech; the Ravager swatted his remaining good claw, effortlessly scraping 9's fabric on his right side.

9 stumbled to his knees, grabbing at the part where the beast scraped him.

"9!," uttered 1, crouching beside him. He clapped his shoulder, keeping his gaze on 9's injury. The fabric on his hip was torn open, going all the way down to his thigh.

"It's," muttered 9, looking at 1, then at the scrape, "it's nothing."

"No, it's not," rasped 1.

The zippered stitchpunk steadily stood up, only to drop back on his knees, still clutching his wound. He looked down, seeing a network of wires. They were still intact but the pain remained, gnawing at him like jagged teeth.

The Ravager shrieked, 7 peered over, seeing 8 run past her. She watched him jump onto the beast's back. 7 looked back and pulled her spear out, then twisted it around, and rammed her blade into the Ravager's remaining eye, a spark of electricity bursting to life. The beast dropped to the ground, limp. 7 pulled her spear out, and staggering away clumsily, watching the Ravager to see if he was indeed down. She saw 8's head pop out from behind the beast's back, plucking out a few brown feathers. He leaped out, landing on his knee.

"Stabbed 'em in the back," he muttered, coming to a stand, looking back at the beast. "That killed 'em." He scoffed, walking away.

"I'll say," commented 7, lifting her bird skull. She ambled up to him, tapping her spear's blade against one of the Ravager's punctured eyes. Then she tapped the beak.

9, while holding on to 1, made the effort to stand, but the pain was only aggravated and he could only stay crouched down.

"That doesn't look good," said 7, walking up to him, shaking her head. Her worry was plastered all over her face.

"Can ya stand?," asked 8.

"No," uttered 9, head hanging.

8 placed his knife back onto his magnet, then he sidled a little closer, stooping down.

"How 'bout I carry ya?," he offered, arms open.

"N-No," said 9, grabbing at his torn fabric, "I'll manage."

"No, really," insisted 8, "I'll carry ya the rest of the way."

9 caught a glimpse of 7's concerned expression, and it would cause more problems if he continued to refuse.

"Alright," said 9, looking up at him.

8 gingerly scooped the zippered stitchpunk in his arms, wincing when 9 groaned at the shooting pain.

"Be careful with him," cautioned 1.

"I know, I know," groused 8.

9 grabbed at his torn fabric.

"Come on, let's get out of here," quoth 7.

1 wandered over and picked up 9's lightstaff, then the penknife. With his crossbow tucked under his arm, he rejoined the others, ready to make the trek back home.


1 paced down the hall, his face twisted in worry. The moment they all arrived home, the moment 8 carried 9 to 2's workshop, where he and 5 got to work on stitching his fabric. The procedure wasn't that hard to perform, but 1 strangely felt himself unable to see 9 after it was done. Was it the guilt of not being able to prevent it? He felt bad about not stopping the Ravager, but he couldn't predict the beast would do that.

2 finished stitching 9's wound hours ago, and the sun had started to set about half an hour ago. 1 had spent the last few moments grasping at anything to not see 9 in the state he was in. He had spent enough time dawdling, so he turned and made his way toward the workshop.

The new workshop was past the ruined globe down a few still-standing bookcases. It was draped in dusty, whitish curtains, supplied with plenty of tools, needles, thread spools, buttons, fabric, candles, a workbench, and a cot. 1 arrived, stopping to regain his composure. After a moment, he continued on, and pushed the curtain aside. He spotted 9 in deep sleep on the cot across from where he stood on the far right. Beside the cot a flickering candle dispersed the gloom. 2 had drifted off to the courtyard to see the sunset with 5 and the twins. 1 would give up any sunset to be with 9.

He approached him, careful not to wake him. He saw him stir slightly, hoping he hadn't caused him to wake up. 1 saw that he didn't open his optics, and strode towards him.

He looks beautiful asleep, he mused to himself. The light of the candle's dancing flame made 9 look like a golden mirage.

The ivory-colored sheet used to cover him only reached to 9's chest, leaving his arms untucked.

"I've been denying it so long," whispered 1 almost inaudibly, "that I can't believe it's actually happened." He was actually glad 9 was asleep, so he couldn't hear him.

He reached out a hand, caressing 9's cheek. He leaned down, taking 9's lips in a passionate kiss. When he pulled away, all he could do was gaze at him. 1's hand stroked the rest of 9's face, then slid down to his shoulder.

"Until tomorrow, my love," he said, straightening. He pulled his hand away, gave him one last look before walking away.

As 1 left the workshop, all he could think about was having 9 in his arms again.


We're not at the end yet, there's still more to unravel. I wonder what's going to happen in the next chapter. :3

Don't go away. ^_^