Here's chapter seven. I'm glad I got it done in time. *wipes forehead* Phew. Glad it's done.
Picking up where chapter six left off, we see 1, 5 and 7 embark on their mission to rescue 9. We see more of the Skimmer in this chapter, and hopefully how they plan on taking him down.
I hope you guys are ready for chapter eight. :) Don't go away. ^_^
When the sunlight hit 1's face he shielded his face with an arm, irked. Morning arrived, drenching his sorrow away. His night was filled with a desperate longing that only became flooded by his own helplessness. He let out a quiet sigh, finally sitting up straight. He saw 5 was still asleep beside his right, back to him. He craned his neck, spotting his quiver propped up against a table leg across from the spot he slept. 1 glanced over, seeing no sign of 7 or her spear. She must've gotten up. He decided to seek her out.
He got up from the dingy pillow, plucking his cape from his side and donned it on, clasping the brooch in place. He picked up his sculpting hook. He walked down the corridor, looking from the damp walls to the remains of the roof that still remained of the ruined house. He strode out of the house, spotting 7 sitting at the bottom step. He walked down the wooden stairs.
"Good morning," he said as he traipsed down.
"G'morning," retorted 7, turning around.
"You're up early," he commented upon reaching the bottom step.
"Hmm." 7 nodded. "I was always an early riser."
1 sat down, setting his hook down next to him, the blade throwing off the light in a glare.
7 teetered between speaking and remaining quiet. She tapped her fingers on the wooden step, then brushed over the blade of her spear. She looked up at the crumbling building surrounding their shelter. She heard a sigh from 1, making her glance up. She raised a brow, which turned into a concerned look. She shifted position, offering a comforting smile.
"Hey," she said, "it's okay." She smiled, hoping he wouldn't lash out at her. Although it appeared as though he didn't have the energy nor the interest to go into a tirade. His pained expression was evidence enough.
An eternity passed in silence.
"You know we're going to find him," she quoth.
1 glanced up at her, looking between pained and hopeful.,
"Look," she said, "I want you to know that I understand." She placed a hand on his arm. "I do."
"I know you do, 7," retorted 1, straightening, shaking her hand off his arm.
"Then, listen," said 7, retracting her hand away, "I know 9's still feeling guilty about what happened. Even when we tell him it's still not enough for him."
"He acts like it doesn't bother him," spoke 1, "when in fact it does. I just... I wish I could make him forget about it."
7 bit her lip, slumping her shoulders. She gazed down at the ground.
"You know," she quoth, "maybe forgetting might not be the way to go, but I think remembering might be the step to move forward."
1 looked at her a moment. He looked over at the litter-ridden ground, thinking. What she said was sensible even when he wanted to deny it. And there was nothing to deny on her statement.
"Well," he said, lifting his head, hands planted on the step, "you're not wrong on that." He looked straight at the jagged-looking buildings before turning to look at her. "Maybe I didn't have the right approach."
"No, you did," insisted 7, "it's just that 9's too stubborn to see that." She huffed a breath, sitting back, her head hitting the step behind her. "It's like...he's afraid to let it go."
At this, 1 blinked incredulously. He almost wanted to laugh.
"Afraid to let it go?," he reiterated, "I've never heard of such a thing."
"It kind of makes sense," she said, "he holds on to this fear because he doesn't want to let go of the guilt."
"That would explain 9's behavior," uttered 1, "why he tries to push me away." He looked away with a frown, his own statement undeniably true. "I just...this is all just hard to swallow."
"I know," said 7. She patted his shoulder.
"I felt the same way when I left the cathedral," said 7, "so you could say I'm experienced with this. When I left, I waited for the moment I would tell 8 I love him until he died. My world shattered until he was brought back, and I finally told him."
"Hmm," mused 1, "you got what you wanted. I'm happy for you."
"I'm glad," said 7, looking up at the horizon. The sun rose higher, sauntering the sky with pink and gold hues. "I know 9 loves you," she uttered suddenly, sitting up straighter. "I see the way he smiles when you two are together. Your own demeanor changed the moment you two got together."
She heard a chuckle from him, making her giggle as well.
"Well," he said, "you are right. I am happier now that I'm with him. But...I wish we could put his fear to rest."
"You know that it'll take time," she said, "yes, I know, you're tired of hearing that, but it's true. Before you know it, 9 won't have this dread weighing him down." She patted his shoulder in encouragement.
1 glanced back at her. She smiled gently, making him smile as well.
A pair of footsteps echoed from behind. 1 and 7 looked over their shoulders, seeing 5 walking down the steps with his quiver already strapped to him. He reached the bottom step, greeting them with a smile.
"'Morning," quipped 7.
"Good morning," said 5.
"Sleep well?," asked 1, getting ready to stand up.
"Yes," replied 5.
"Then let's go," said 7, rising to her feet, spear grasped in her hand. She leaped off the step, lowering her bird skull helmet.
"Right," said 1, grabbing his sculpting hook. He stepped off the wooden step, following after 7. 5 sauntered behind him, the straps to his quiver grabbed tight.
The sun rose higher over the ramshackle city, welcome a new day to start.
9 stared straight at the glass ceiling that was a shelf. His head felt like a train ran over it. His night was filled with an onslaught of nightmares beating him down left and right. He saw more of the same in them, more mechanical arms, more red thread tangling him, more beasts glowering at him. The difference was he managed to escape from the beasts and their mechanical arms. It was only a relief that he woke up.
He looked over to the beast perched on the coat tree. The glow from the morning sun brushed the beast's wingtips. It swung its tail back and forth, claw snapping. It turned its head, red glowing eye staring down at 9. It turned around, wings slightly flared open. It had its mechanical eyes rested on 9, as though he might've gotten out. The beast opened its wings and glided toward the glass cabinet, talons latched onto the wooden boards. Its beak tapped at the glass door, either out of habit or to put a fright into the zippered stitchpunk. 9's optics stayed locked on the birdlike beast, red glowing optics staring back at him.
An unspeakable silence passed before the beast tore away, wings open, soaring out of the room through the hole in the ceiling.
The moment the beast was gone, the moment 9 could relax. He sat up, stretching his arms. His gaze trained over to the expanse of the room. He noted the rest of the decor he hadn't bothered to observe or didn't notice before. He looked up at the coat tree, then glanced over at the wardrobe. It was made of mahogany with brass round handles; two drawers were underneath the double doors. 9 wondered what was behind those closed doors.
He wondered how long it would be until that beast returns. 9 decided to make the best of it and try to make an escape.
Standing up, he waltzed over toward the glass doors. He looked at the gap between the two doors; the wooden boards planted against them to keep the doors locked. He put his hands against the two doors and pushed. When pushing didn't work, he tried a different approach. 9 backed up, determination plastered on his face, and he took off in a sprint. He slammed his left shoulder against the doubled doors, feeling a pain shoot up his arm, circulating around the rest of his body. He groaned, grabbing at his arm.
"Well that was stupid," he groused. He felt the throbbing in his left arm which was once sharp now was numb and dull. He walked over to the far right side of the cabinet, still clutching his arm.
He sat down, thinking about being back at the library. Then he mentally kicked himself for depending on others when he should've depended on himself. From the moment he woke up it seemed like disaster followed him wherever he went. Was he cursed? A jinx? A bad omen? All of these described him and yet, it made him hate himself.
Did the Scientist truly believe he was made to save the world?
"Is this world truly worth saving?," he muttered to himself. There was no one here to answer him but himself. A second opinion would've convinced him he was wrong.
The world he was living in was a result of the humans and machines killing each other and the rest of the world with it. There was no sign of any humans anywhere or any animals, and that was already despite there being sprigs of grass shooting out of the ground.
Since he could remember, 9 thought back the moment he woke up to the moment he watched the five ascend to the heavens. The wrenching feeling twisting him from the inside made him regret ever coming to life. When they were brought back by the rain, it was like he had another chance. They all took the time to settle into their new lives and unwind. Although their ordeal with the B.R.A.I.N. was over, that didn't mean the trauma wasn't there. 9 knew it was there, but he didn't deny it either.
It should've been him that died, not them. It should've been him. His soul almost got taken out when 2 took the blow for him. If only he knew what it would, or he would've never placed the talisman in the slot. He cursed his curiosity. 9 then remembered the moment he looked the Machine in the eye, ready to die. Then 1 pushed him out of the way and his soul was siphoned out. The heartbreak when he saw him die. He practically let him get killed.
No! He couldn't think like that. It was what these nightmares wanted: to bring him down to the point where he hurt himself. It's what gave them power over him. And he was not about to let that happen.
I am stronger than this.
Was this him thinking it, or was it the other side of him? No, this was him. This was definitely him.
What was the worth of life when it had no meaning to anyone? Would you go through the pain and suffering? Would you risk your life all for righting an ancient wrong? What is someone to you when they could very well be important to you or just become another forgotten soul among millions, forgotten and no longer exists? Would you do anything to keep them from falling to their self-destruction or leave them to their demise?
I can go on.
9 brought his knees up to his chin. He moved his arm, feeling a pain shoot up. It still hurt from banging his arm against the glass door. He wished the glass would've formed a crack.
I'm better than this.
No matter what anyone said to him, he did belong with the others. He wasn't going to let a few nightmares bring him down.
5 shielded his face with an arm to keep the sun from blocking his line of vision. He narrowed his pupil, ignoring the glare the sun made on an old black car. He stood atop a tree stump, sprays of green grass cradling its base. He tugged at his quiver strap, craning his neck got see the dilapidated city from a different angle. He stood still, careful not to blink. He stared deep into the remains of buildings, seeing it all blur together.
He looked over his shoulder, seeing 7 polish her spear's blade with a somewhat clean rag. 1 stood a few inches from her, back to him and 7, holding his sculpting hook. His carob-colored cape whipped in the wind.
"See any sign of him?," queried 7, lifting her bird skull.
"No," replied 5, turning around.
1 spun around, the hook on the bottom scraping the ground. He strode up to them.
"Are we still going to go through with your plan?," asked 7, raising a brow.
"It's senseless," he said, "but it might work."
"And if he takes you somewhere else?," inquired 5. "We don't even know where he took him."
"And we might not ever know if we don't do this," remarked 1.
"But are you sure you want to do this?," questioned 7. "We can just follow the Skimmer when we find him."
1 pursed his lips in thought.
"It's the only thing we've got," he said, twirling the handle of his hook. He glanced up at 5. "I don't suppose you can come up with a trap for the Skimmer?"
"Well, I'd have to—"
A noise interrupted him. The three looked behind where 5 stood.
"Did you hear that?," asked 5 quietly.
"I heard it," said 7 almost in a whisper, lowering her bird skull helmet, gripping her spear's polearm.
They waited to hear the sound again. A noise resonated. Like something being thrown onto a wall.
"It came from behind there," said 5, pointing at the brick building before him. "Come on."
The trio ran towards the building, heading for the other side. 7 cut a bush branch with her spear for easy access. They turned towards their left, seeing an alley, and, to 1's surprise, the Skimmer.
He, and 5 and 7, backed away, observing the Skimmer, prepared to intervene.
"There it is," whispered 5.
"Should we go through with your plan, 1?," asked 7, glimpsing at him, then at the Skimmer. "Do you have another plan?"
1's glare deepened that it was hard to tear his optics away.
"I'm going in," he said, hook gripped firmly.
"Good luck," quipped 5.
1 nodded, then traipsed down the alleyway.
The Skimmer had his back to him, talons digging at the ground. The claw at the end of his tail grabbed at random objects, lifting them up to his face, then threw them away when they didn't grab his interest. He flapped his wings, snapping clearly. The blades gleamed in the sun.
"Over here!," shouted 1, hand cupped around his mouth.
The Skimmer turned around, eyes glowing red, glare deeply locked on the stitchpunk.
Behind 1, 5 and 7 peeked over from their hiding place, waiting with bated breath.
"Come on over here!," hollered 1, waving the sculpting hook as a way to get the Skimmer's attention.
The beast, with wings flared, paced around, beak open. He cawed out softly. His claw at the end of tail ready to snatch him up. A second passed, and 1 meandered over to the left, keeping the hook pointed at the Skimmer. The moment 1 paced over, the Skimmer followed him. Then 1 walked over to the right, keeping his hook pointed toward the beast's face. It was like he was being pulled by the force of a magnet.
1 held his breath, holding the hook as though he were holding a javelin. The Skimmer screeched, the tail swishing back and forth. 1 charged at the best, shouting. He threw the sculpting hook. The Skimmer's claw on his tail caught the hook, throwing it aside. The beast shrieked in a high-pitched volume. 1 watched him lift into the air. The Skimmer's talons grabbed him in an instant. The elder stitchpunk looked to his left, at the corner of the building where 5 and 7 were hidden. He saw their shocked faces, wordlessly telling them to carry out the rest of the plan. He gave them one last look before turning away.
His gaze locked down on the city as the Skimmer ascended higher. He saw the city in its former glory, decaying and bleak. He only hoped wherever the beast was taking him 9 would be there, too.
The pain shot up punishingly as 9 fought back with the urge to fall back asleep. It only seemed to aggravate his headache the more he tried to alleviate it. The pain shot down to his lower back and hips. He felt a ball in the lower left side of his spine. It would go away eventually, and he would only have the rest of the day to worry about it. As well as with battling his unending terrors.
He sat up, dizziness clamped onto him like a pair of jaws. Even as he stood up the world seemed to tilt. His hand grabbed on to the glass wall behind him. As soon as he had held on to a support, the moment he could wait the vertigo out.
In his struggle to stay awake, 9 saw brief glimpses of the Fabrication Machine's menacing red eye glowing, as though the Machine could see flaws no one else could see. He saw the Machine's metal arms again. He once again saw the red string entangling him. He tried and tried to free himself. Waking up was a release from the possibility of being caged in an eternal slumber.
He planted his hands against the glass door, head hung, optics staring at his feet. He swore he felt time leap. He stood, not sure of what to do, but if the beast came back and it had the intention of opening the doors, he was going to make a run for it. 9 lifted his head, gazing at the hole in the ceiling, the light creeping in. He slowly slid down to his knees, huffing breath after breath, hands resting on his lap. His optics shut close.
A caw grabbed his attention. He gaped up, seeing a shadow form on the pile of broken wooden furniture. He saw the tail swing back and forth, claw snapping at the air. He saw the beast's talons appear and the rest of him descend into the room. 9 saw the beast had something in his talons. He screwed his pupils for a better look, and he recognized his sharp-clawed hands, the topknot on his head, and the buckles on his front. 1. His gaze turned from the beast to the glass cabinet, where, upon further inspection, he spotted. Their optics met in an a split second. It was as though the glass did not exist for that moment.
"1!," he called, hands planted against the glass, a smile forming on his face.
As the beast glided toward the glass cabinet he himself was in, 9 watched as the talon that held 1 moved up to his face. It grabbed 1 in its beak, he shouted at it to let him go, hands snatching fruitlessly at the air. The beast grabbed one end of the wooden board, using its claw on its tail for extra support. 9 watched it lift the right board, dropping it to the floor. A precise thud echoed throughout the whole room. The beast grabbed the last board, dropping it next to the one it previously put down. This was his chance!
9 watched the beast's talons grab at the door handles. The moment they were opened the moment he jumped out. He landed roughly, almost hitting his mouth. He landed on the wooden boards, so he almost slipped off, only catching on before he could fall.
"9!," called 1, reaching out a hand.
The zippered stitchpunk looked up at him. The words were escaping him, but he couldn't waste any time. He scrambled up to his feet, dashing toward the doorway.
The beast screeched.
"Find 7 and 5!," shouted 1. "They'll be here soon!"
9 looked over his shoulder, wishing to stay back, but he needed to find a way out of the beast's lair.
"I'll come back!," he called out.
He turned around, running out the door.
9 made his way down the staircase. The step near the bottom creaked, hearing the beast's shrill screech echo behind him. He reached the bottom, losing his balance. He stood up, and jumped off the step. He saw an open doorway with the door completely torn off its hinges. It laid on the floor, dust layered on top. He ran for the doorway, the rush circulating in him like a tide. He looked from one direction to the next. He took off running. Anywhere the beast wasn't. A dented lamppost to his right laid on top of a car, its windows shattered. He saw ran past it.
"5!," he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth, "7!"
He stopped to catch his breath. He spotted a small knife on the ground. He plucked it, and continued running.
"7!," he shouted, holding the knife under his right arm. "5! Where are you?"
"9!"
That sounded like 5's voice. That must mean he's nearby. He and 7.
"9!"
That was 7's voice. 9 smiled. He ran down the road, turning to his right. He saw 7 running up to him. 5 was right behind her.
"7," said 9, he looked past her, "5."
"9," said 7, stoping before him, lifting her bird skull.
"9," said 5, standing beside 7, "where's 1? Where's the Skimmer?"
Skimmer. That was what that beast was called. Knowing what it was called was the least of his worries, 9 had to take them to 1.
"Follow me," said 9, pointing with the knife.
7 lowered her bird skull helmet and ran after 9 toward the Skimmer's lair. 5 pulled out his crossbow from his quiver and sprinted after the two.
9 led 7 and 5 down the path he came, which led them straight for the building the zippered stitchpunk was imprisoned in.
"Up those stairs!," hooted 9, pointing to the staircase.
The trio ran up the stairs, hearing the Skimmer's screeches. 9 only hoped 1 was still alive. When they reached the top, 9 saw the doorway leading to the room he was, same one where the Skimmer was.
"Through there," said 9, pointing at the doorway to his left.
"I see him," said 7.
"Let's go," muttered 5, pointing his crossbow.
Three dashed inside, seeing the Skimmer fluttering over the glass cabinet. 9 looked inside the cabinet, where he saw 1 inside it, but the Skimmer didn't put the boards up against the glass doors. The beast turned his head, then his whole body, claw at the end of the tail swaying.
5 ran ahead of the two, pointing his crossbow. He released the trigger, watching the nail flying for the Skimmer. The nail landed squarely in his right eye. The Skimmer thrashed his head, screeching. He dropped to the floor, wings beating.
"He's down!," hooted 5.
"I'll go free 1," rasped 7, dashing past him, pointing her spear at the cabinet. She ducked to avoid getting swatted by the Skimmer's wing, and jumped when she saw the tail about to trio her. She ran for the glass cabinet, pointing her spear's blade for the door. "Get as far away as possible!," she shouted at 1. She watched him back away, turning his back to her, dropping to his knees.
7 threw her spear, piercing the glass, watching it shatter on impact, bursting apart in a shower of glittering shrapnel.
"1!," shouted 7.
She saw 1 sidle toward the entrance, observing the hole made by 7's spear. He picked up 7's spear, jumping out. He nearly tripped, planting the spear into the ground for balance.
"Are you okay?," asked 7, avoiding stepping where there was broken glass.
1 nodded. "I'm fine," he said, straightening up. He handed her her spear, which she took.
7 glanced over, seeing 5 and 9 busy distracting the Skimmer. 5 had led it away from the cabinet long enough that it did not even stop 7. She looked at how it stood atop the broken pieces of wooden furniture. She spotted the beast's tail, and an idea came to her.
She ran for the tail, climbing her way up, keeping her spear close to her person. She stopped when the beast's tail swished around, making reaching his back all the more difficult. 7 leaped forward, fingers clutched to the beast's spine. She scurried higher, ignoring the Skimmer's caws; his winged flapped every second or so. She caught a glimpse of 5 pointing his crossbow at him with a new nail. He aimed it; the Skimmer deflected the nail with his wing. 7, while holding onto the Skimmer's back, focused on the beast's neck, hoping not to miss.
The Skimmer screeched, head thrashing back and forth. 7 looked over her shoulder, spotting 1 standing over the beast's tail and he had unearth a pair scissors somewhere in the rubble and he severed the beast's claw from his tail. She tore back, aimed for the neck, and then leaped. Her spear's blade pierced into the Skimmer's neck. Sparks of electricity circulated around the spot 7 hit. She pulled her spear out and jumped off the Skimmer's neck. The beast screeched shrilly, wings flared. She saw his shadow looming over her, and 7 managed to reach the other side of the room before the Skimmer collapsed.
5 came to her side, optic gazing at the lifeless Skimmer. The beast's right eye was dim while the other was punctured by the nail.
"It's over," uttered 7.
1 walked past the dead Skimmer, glancing at it nonchalantly. He turned his head away from the beast, and looked over at the others, gazing at each stitchpunk until his optics landed on 9.
"1," said 9, walking toward him.
The words were escaping 1 that he couldn't process everything that just happened. All he could do was gaze at the zippered stitchpunk.
When the two were in close proximity, the two hugged; the moment 9 fell into his arms, the moment the floodgates were open.
"1," uttered 9, "I...I..." The shock forced him to stop speaking. He trembled.
"Don't say anything," cooed 1, wrapping his arms tighter around the younger stitchpunk.
9 buried his face in his chest, his arms snaked around 1. For that one moment he felt the weight lift off of him. He gazed up at him, smiling. He planted a kiss on 1's lips, surprising him. The elder stitchpunk widened his optics, then closed them and returned the kiss.
7 smiled, lifting her bird skull. She gazed over at 5, who shared the same expression as her.
"Let's go home," said 1 as soon as he pulled away. He looked over at 5 and 7, who remained smiling.
"I'd like that," said 5, nodding.
"Me too," commented 9, resting his head on 1's shoulder.
The group strode past the dead Skimmer, the tension lifting off from them, ushering a swift respite.
I hope you all enjoyed the seventh chapter cause the next one is going to be even better. Get ready for more. =)
Again, reviews are always appreciated. And again, I'm sorry that the last chapter was posted late. I hate when I lose my Wi-Fi. :-( Hopefully, I don't lose it again. ;)
Lookout for chapter eight. :D
