4's Abduction
Down the Rabbit Hole
By morning light 3 awoke with a start to the sound of clanging between metal and wood. From atop the lookout tower he raced down to ground to find the source of the noise. At the shore of the lake he saw both 7 and 9 were hamming together a raft with bites of wood and scraps of metal. A grey sticky tape was set along the bottom to secure the raft and make it waterproof.
9 was using a heavy metal nut as a hammer when he sensed that their third party was awake. He lifted his head to see that 3 was at the edge of the water, still holding the ball against himself. "Hey 3! Let's go get 4 back!"
3 smiled brightly and carefully tucked the ball inside the large pouch behind his back to keep it safe.
They soon departed from the shore, using long wooden dowels for oars and to reach the bottom of the lake. Carefully they drifted across the water's surface, gently prodding the depths for signs of their missing companion. The remaining twin kept a constant watch other the water, while the other two took turns between searching and steadying their raft. Their voyage began with high spirits, but as the day dragged on the light of hope started to dim. It was difficult to see through the murky muddy waters and the nothing could be found with the prodding poles, except the bottom of the pond.
3 was quickly losing hope, and was considering throwing himself in the lake to take his search deeper below.
7 gazed up at the afternoon sun while they crossed the lake a second time. She knew deep in her wiry core that if 4 was not in the lake she could no doubt have gone under by the crack in the great wall…
Their venture brought them near the center of the lake where the water was clearer then the shores. There they could nearly see into the deeper depths to the mechanical debris and remains of mortals that rested in their watery graves. The sight of which still sent shudders of awe and woe to the tiny dolls.
The feeling of grim was easily dispelled when the leader spotted a glimpse of something moving beneath the water. It was dark against the bottom, but it seemed to move independently against the current. He moved his dowel closer to the moving figure. At once it moved away from his oar, and then circled around it curiously. "I see something!" he suddenly exclaimed.
At once the remaining two rushed to him, causing the raft to tip dangerously to one side. Three little dolls splashed into the water. Gasping they scrambled back into the boat. They spread themselves about so not to tip the raft into the water again, though much of it had washed into the boat.
7 rubbed the water from her optic eyes, "That was embarrassing…"
9 panted and looked back to the water. He had dropped his oar during the scramble back on the boat. Strangely, the oar was standing upright in the water. They paddled back and he lifted it up easily. Curious, he grabbed some of the spare wire, meant to make quick repairs, and wrapped it around the end to create a loop. He carefully dipped the end back into the water. At once something snagged on the loop and jostled it from left to right. "Whoa!"
7 once again rushed to help him, while 3 shifted to the other side to keep the raft from tipping again. She grabbed at the rod to help him pull it closer to the boat. The harder they tugged the harder whatever was down below resisted, until suddenly it took off, dragging the boat behind.
Startled, the three Stitchpunks tied themselves to the raft, still holding the rod firmly. Whatever held the end dragged them across to the far side of the lake… by the crack in the barrier wall.
"Get down!" 9 yelled and forced the other two to duck as close to the raft as possible. The pole slid loose from their grip as the raft was quickly taken by the current and dove downward into the wide crack. The side boards crashed and broke away from the boat.
"Hhhaaaa!" they screamed as they were flung from the destroyed boat and plunged into the darkening falls...
9 felt himself being tossed about under the untamed currents of the underground river. He tried to look around through his metallic optics to find the others, only to catch brief glimpses of them further ahead or falling behind him. In his heart of metal and soul of man he felt the wave of dread sink into his core. Was this truly to be their end? Doomed to be knocked around in the earth's veins until their small frames are too damaged to hold their spirits? Were the scientist's hopes for them all in vane?
'I… I failed..' he thought with great melancholy. 'I failed to keep anyone safe. 2…8, 1…6..5…' with each recollection of the fallen comrades he saw a brief image of their faces within his mind's eye. He glanced around the waters a final time to see the bodies of his remaining friends, '4…3... 7 my love... I'm sorry…'
Can you say, 'Dead men tell no tales'?