Chapter 6
About halfway up the stairs 5 and 2 decided to rest. They sat down on the stairs beside each other. 5 didn't speak or look at 2. He stared off into space, thoughtfully.
"5?" 2 asked after a moment. "What's on your mind?"
The younger stitchpunk looked at him. "I don't want him to hurt her," he told 2.
"But he hasn't hurt her." he pointed out to him.
"How do you know that?" 5 challenged him.
"I just know," the older stitchpunk replied, looking like he really did know what he was talking about.
5 looked like he wanted to push 2 for more information but the older stitchpunk stood up and said, before he could do anything; "I think we should keep going. We still have a long way to go before we reach the throne room. If we take too long to get there, who knows what could happen to 7?"
5, seeing the wisdom in his words, scrambled to his feet. "Yes," he agreed. "Let's keep going."
Heaven only knew what could be happening to 7 while they wee climbing the stairs. 5 shuddered. He didn't want to think about it.
7 lay on the floor of her prison, thrashing and whimpering in her nightmares.
She was climbing a large splintered wall, her fingers digging into the rotting wood. Above her was the sky and freedom, below a deep dark pit. She did not wish to be trapped there. The pit meant imprisonment. Imprisonment led to insanity. She climbed and climbed but never seemed to be getting any closer to the end. Eventually she began to tire but she could not give up. She had to escape!
But she couldn't seem to gain any ground. The black hole below her seemed to widen, taking up more and more of her vision. She looked above herself, refusing to look at it anymore. She climbed some more...
Then...
Then a figure appeared above her. She recognized the person. 1.
"1!" she called to him. "Help me!"
The older stitchpunk stared down at her, his expression unreadable.
"1!" she shouted again.
He remained unmoving like a stone. Finally he spoke, his voice cold and emotionless. "You should have listened to me, female," he said. "Now you're paying for your foolishness."
She lost her grip. The white female grappled for the wood but was unable to regain her hold. She plunged down into the darkness, her optics focused on the receding form of 1...
7 jerked awake with a start. Her vision took in complete darkness. The female stitchpunk panicked, a cry escaping her throat as she got to her feet and threw herself forward. Her body impacted a wall.
Then her mind cleared and she remembered where she was. The female stitchpunk went limp and fell to the floor where she lay, curled in a ball, breathing heavily.
"A dream," she panted. "It was only a dream. I'm not in a pit. I'm fine."
She sat up and squinted in the dark. A very tiny shaft of moonlight shone through the hole in the back wall. She crawled over to it and peeked out. The world beyond was covered in silver light from the full moon hanging low in the night sky.
It looked like she had been out for only a few hours. Sighing, she moved away from the hole and sat down on the floor. She shuttered her optics and tried to get back to sleep.
1 was having trouble sleeping. He lay on the down pillow he used for a bed, tossing and turning. He could not stop thinking about 7. Every time he shuttered his optics all he could see was her face, her mouth twisted down in a determined frown. He knew she wasn't happy with what he did and, as time passed, his excuse on why he'd put her down there became more and more of just that, an excuse, not a good reason at all.
He sighed and sat up, looking out the window at the moonlit church courtyard. It was still hours before sun up but he couldn't rest. Instead he got up off the pillow and crossed the room to the exit door. He stepped into the short hallway between his room and the throne room and headed to the bigger place. Moonlight shone in through the broken clock above his throne. He crossed the room, his shadow black and detailed in the moonlight and headed toward the cat beast drawing on the wall. When he reached it he pulled the drawing away, revealing an exit.
1 sighed and entered the tunnel, walking the length of the hall. Ahead he saw bright silver moonlight. A second later he exited the hallway and stepped out onto the roof.
A cool breeze ruffled his cape and body. He paused a moment, allowing himself to balance on the gabled roof.
He walked along the roof, his slanted optics focusing on the factory building standing black and foreboding in the distance.
If only something could be done about that place!
Maybe one day it would catch fire and burn down to the ground. If only...
For some reason that made him think of 7. Snorting with contempt for the rebellious female he turned his attention away from the building and looked up at the low hanging moon.
"Maybe I did make a mistake after all," he said to himself. He turned back to the tower, focusing on the floor below his throne room where 7 was confined.
Before he knew what he was doing 1 found himself heading back inside and down the stairs to the floor where the cell was. He headed down the hall until he reached the room where he then paused in front of the door and stared at it for the longest time. For a moment he just stood there, staring at the door, trying to decide what exactly he wanted to do.
Unconsciously his hand lifted up and closed into a fist. He realized what he was doing before he actually rapped on the door and pulled his hand back. No. He would not go inside or make her aware of his presence. Not now. It was too early for that.
A faint sound woke 7 out of a light sleep. She discovered it was still dark in the room which meant it was still night outside. But what had caused the noise? Was somebody outside? She fell silent, listening hard. Maybe she would hear it again.
There it was again! a faint clicking sound, like metal hitting wood.
"Hello?" she called.
The sound stopped, she was alone again.
Or was she? Even though she couldn't see the other person she could still sense their presence. "Hello?" she called again. "Who is there?"
Outside the door 1 stood in still, listening to her calling out to him. She had heard him after all.
She has good hearing, he realized. That must be why she's such a good fighter.
"1? Is that you?"
He didn't reply. How could she tell it was him anyway? For all she knew 8 could be standing outside the door.
"1!" a weight hit the door. "Let me out of here!"
1 stepped back, startled. How did she know it was him? He'd done nothing to give himself away.
"1!" she screamed again, pounding on the door. "Say something!"
But he said nothing, deciding instead to turn away from the door and head back the way he came even though that guilty feeling gnawed away at his chest the entire time.
She heard him walking away and paused, listening. He wasn't going to let her out after all. He'd just come there to taunt her. She hit the door one more time with frustration then flopped down onto the floor. Once she regained her energy she'd try again. maybe someone would hear her...
1 returned to his room on the top floor of the tower, sighing to himself. "She'll thank me someday," he kept trying to convince himself. "I know she will. It's for her own good."
But no matter how many times he told himself this, he did not even believe it himself.
"2," 5 said after a long moment.
"Yes, son?" the older stitchpunk asked, looking up at him.
"Are are you so sure 1 won't hurt 7?" he questioned him, bringing up the previous topic. "I mean. He has no qualms hurting the rest of us so why would she be any different?"
2 sighed and stopped on a higher step, turning to look down at his apprentice. "I'll answer your question with a question," he responded. "When have you ever seen 1 order 8 to punish 7?"
5 paused a moment, wracking his brain for an answer. Truth be told whenever 1 had a problem involving 7 he seemed to want to deal with it himself, and it mostly ended with the two fighting in loud voices. 8 was never called in the deal with her at all. "Never," he finally answered, looking up at him. "Not from what I have seen. But that doesn't mean he hasn't."
2 sat down on the step now. "5, I have been a wittiness to most, if not all, of their confrontations," he began. "1 never has. He never brings 8 into their arguments nor has he ever struck her. He's been tempted to, surely, but he never has. Why is that?"
5 frowned. "I don't know," he answered. "Maybe he knows if he ever tried to she'd break his arm." he smiled faintly.
2 chuckled. "Yes, that is right, she could break his arm if she wanted to but..." he grew serious again. "I really think my brother has another reason for it."
"Like what?" 5 asked. "It can't be because he's in love with her." he shuddered at the very idea. The thought of 1 having romantic feelings for 7 was just to creepy to consider.
2 stood back up now. "I honestly don't know, but I have a guess." he looked up the stairs. "But I won't know until we speak to him."
"Any guess what kind of-"
2 suddenly put up a hand and hissed. "Shhhh... do you hear that?"
Both stitchpunks fell silent for a moment. At first 5 heard nothing but then... he thought he heard a faint sound above them. "What is that?" 5 asked 2 in a low voice.
2 didn't answer for a moment then he finally looked at 5. "I think..." he paused to listen some more. "It sounds like someone's pounding on something."
A/N
I FINALLY got off my lazy bum and finished this chapter. Argh! I thought I'd never get this part done! Hopefully it will take less time to finish the next one. If I don't get writer's block again.
