Chapter two came quicker than expected. I thought I'd be working on it for a week, but here it is.
I'm surprised this fic has a second chapter. I haven't worked on a chaptered fanfic in a long time. My skills feel rusty, but that's why I'm working on this story. I am determined to see this fanfiction through. Just you wait.
Lookout for chapter three.
Night fell, and the storm raged on, fierce and stronger than before. The silence inside the library was a stark contrast to the tumultuous storm outside, and it made the stitchpunks inside glad to be safe in the coziness of the library.
The fountain was abuzz with laughter. Candles were placed here and there, thrusted on candlesticks. The wicks alit, chasing the gloom of the library; the flames reflected on the water's surface. 2 blew out the match once the last candle was lit. Dropping the match, he scanned each candle, smiling to himself in proud.
He turned around when he heard a set of footfalls resonated from behind. Approaching him were 5, who was accompanied by 6. The striped stitchpunk clutched his key, bicolored optics darting from the fountain to the ground.
"Hi, 2," said 5.
"Hello to you, too, 5," retorted 2, looking at 5. He looked at 6, and said, "Hello, 6."
"H-hello," muttered 6, not meeting his gaze. He fiddled with his black key briefly.
5 stood beside 2, surveying the fountain, looking from the rails to the candles.
"Where is everyone?," he asked.
"They should be coming," answered 2. "Why don't we wait until they show up?"
"Alright," said 5.
2 sauntered over to a broken piece of marble and plopped down, setting his cane down for the time being. 5 chose to sit on a hardcover book that was a few inches away from the fountain. 6 also took a seat on the same book as him, seeing how the book was big enough for both of them. The black-and-white stitchpunk sat, slouched, pen-nib fingers grabbing at his key. He glanced up at the ceiling, where the gaping hole gave a view of the snowfall.
"Nggnn," he muttered.
5, having heard him, turned over to 6, optic blinking.
"What's wrong?," he queried, shifting position.
"Worried," answered 6.
2, turning his head to them, arched a brow, eying 6 curiously.
"Worried?," repeated 5. "Worried about what?"
"The storm," uttered 6, running a hand down his key's blade.
2 listened intently. 5 glanced over at 2, wordlessly asking for advice.
"Do you know something, 6?," asked 2, looking at the striped artist.
6 bit his lip, optics darting from one to the other.
"S-something," he croaked, sounding out of breath.
"What?," insisted 5.
"I c-can't," uttered 6, "s-see...it. But...it's...t-there."
5 looked down at the ground, lost in thought.
"Do you think—"
"We're here!"
5 swiveled around, seeing 7 arrive with 8 and the twins trailing behind her.
"Sorry we're late," said 7.
"That's quite alright, my dear," reassured 2, smiling.
"Yeah," quipped 7, "8 wanted to stay behind, but I convinced him to come."
"It's true," said 8, shrugging.
"Well," spoke 2, "we were about to begin."
3 and 4 nodded, scampering towards him, ready to start tonight's session.
5, although looking forward to tonight, still couldn't shake off what 6 said. He also remembered about tomorrow, and how he was joining 7 on a search party to find 1 and 9. He found he couldn't wait until tomorrow to start the search.
But he wasn't in any hurry. Not tonight, anyways. 5 was willing to wait until morning to find 1 and 9, and maybe see if what 6 said was true; that there was something out there.
He would only have to wait.
1 draped a blanket over 9, who laid on his side, fast asleep. It was only a piece of a human-sized blanket that he cut from using a pair of scissors he found beneath the nightstand. 9 laid on a pillow that happened to be on the floor; the blanket was a shade of blue that was almost gray with what looked like fringes bordering it.
He looked down at the floor, noticing his cape and 9's cloak sprawled. Their romantic session had ended a few minutes ago, and 9 fell asleep, exhausted and satisfied. It was something the two enjoyed every once in a while.
The wind outside gartered his attention, prompting 1 to glance over at the window. He could see the snowflakes scatter about, wild and unpredictable.
The light coming from 9's lightstaff also grabbed his attention, sidling over to it, picking it up. 1 thought back to when they arrived, and decided to look downstairs again.
With the lightstaff in hand, 1 strode toward the open door, exiting the room and ambling down the hall. Turning to the staircase, he glanced down, shining the lightstaff to disperse to dark. Sighing a breath, he took a step down, and from there he made the trip down. A feeling of dread crept over him, one he couldn't seem to shake off.
Once he reached the first floor, he walked toward the living room, seeing only the furniture in its place. To his right, the hole where the door used to be gave a view of the snowstorm.
1 turned and strolled down the hall, back toward the kitchen where he found the matches. Although they were scarce, he thought to retrieve them and take me back upstairs. He kicked himself for not thinking that earlier.
Entering the hall, he saw across from him, the doorway leading to the kitchen. Next to the doorway was a closed door, most likely the basement. 1 strode into the kitchen, looking up at its white floors and its walls, which were painted a subtle shade of blue. He spotted the doors under the sink, one of its doors half open. Remembering that was where the matches were. He ambled toward the open cabinet, and peered in, holding the lightstaff a certain angle to see better. The box the matches were in was open, revealing the four matches inside. He plucked each one by one, then straightened up, ready to leave.
A noise startled him, making him stop in his tracks. 1, lightstaff in hand, hoisted it up, seeing only the ceiling. He waited.
The only sound he heard was the wind outside, but he decided to wait to hear it again.
A minute passed in silence.
After a second, he heard it again. A loud thud was heard from above. He knew it came from the outside, most likely the roof. 1 glanced up, turning from one direction to the other, narrowing his pupils in suspicion.
He strode through the hall, being careful not to trip over anything. He listened to the wind howling outside, catching a glimpse of the snow as he meandered into the living room. He held 9's lightstaff, looking up at the ceiling to hear for the sound.
When no sound came, he ascended up the stairs.
The light from the lit bulb gave him a comforting silence he didn't know he needed. He reached the top, then making his way to the room. Entering the room, he twisted the bulb, the light extinguished. He set the lightstaff against one of the bed legs, then made his way to the other side of the bed, where 9 was sleeping. 1 was surprised to see 9 still asleep, thinking he would've woken up after a minute. Seeing the time, 1 stepped onto the pillow, lifted the blanket and settled in to bed. He looked up at the ceiling, in case he heard the noise again.
He lied down, pressing his body against 9's. He wrapped an arm around him protectively, peeking back up at the ceiling.
If there was something outside, he would be ready to face it. Putting that aside, he settled closer to 9 and surrendered himself to sleep.
The sun glistened in the glittering white snow. The Emptiness was buried beneath a thick blanket of snow, hiding most of the ramshackle buildings as well as the dead Steel Behemoths. The air was frigid, though there was no wind that morning, and 7 was prepared as she scanned the snow-filled courtyard. She had on her bird skull along with a navy blue poncho covering most of her body. She gripped her spear, its blade throwing the light back in a glint.
She looked out at the snowy expanse, fear and fire coursing through her.
A set of footfalls sounded from behind. 7 looked over her shoulder, seeing 5 walk up to her. He wore a hooded cloak the color of mahogany. His quiver was strapped to himself; in his hand was a makeshift knife.
"Ready?," said 5.
"Yeah," retorted 7.
The two stitchpunks strode down the stone stairs, which was a bit of a struggle considering they were layered in snow. Reaching the bottom, 7 and 5 walked down the courtyard, being careful not to slip. Once they were at the black iron gates, the two exited the courtyard, venturing into the Emptiness.
7's thoughts raced back to yesterday. It crept into her mind through the whole night until she fell asleep. She hoped she was just overthinking things, but she needed to see it for herself.
"Everything's covered," commented 5, tugging at his hood with one hand, readjusting it.
"Sure is," replied 7, stepping into a stone. She leaped off, feet plunging into the snow.
The snow did well in hiding buildings, cars, and some of the many Steel Behemoths. The overall appearance of the snow didn't make the town look less sinister; it actually enhanced the look.
7 peered into a building, glimpsing away when she saw nothing but darkness.
She strode on.
"Any idea where they went?," asked 5, snapping his head to look at her.
"No," said 7, shaking her head.
5 blinked his one optic.
"They could be anywhere," he spoke, "it might be easy to find them."
"I know," said 7.
She stepped onto a brick, walking along it, then jumped off, landing in the snow. She thumbed her spear's blade, testing its smoothness. Glancing over, she saw 5 stopping in his tracks, peering up at the sky.
"We'll find them," she said, "and if we run into a beast, we'll take it down."
5 looked over at the snow-laiden ground before looking at 7.
"You're right," he answered, "as always."
7 smiled.
Tugging at his hood, he caught up to 7, who was quicker in her gait, and she was more than eager to see this day through.
1 looked out the window, pressing a hand against the glass. Getting to the sill took an effort since he had to climb on the curtains to get there. He scanned the buildings buried beneath a white expanse of snow. It amazed him how a blizzard could do so much work. Looking down, he saw the roads shellacked in snow, wondering if getting back home would delay them.
He turned and leaped, landing on the floor in a crouching position. Standing up, he walked toward the pillow, where 9 was sitting upright, holding his hooded cloak.
"See anything out there?," he asked, placing his cloak on his lap.
"It's all clear," retorted 1, "though we can't be too careful."
9 nodded his head.
1 stooped down, grabbing his cape from the floor. He donned it on, clasping the gold brooch in place.
"Well, we can get—"
A noise interrupted 1, who turned to look at the door. 9 looked at the door as well, optics as wide as the moon.
"What was that?," he asked, standing up.
"I don't know," said 1, pupils narrowed.
9 clasped his hooded cloak on, then rushed over to retrieve his lightstaff.
Another noise resonated from somewhere. It sounded like glass shattering. 1 sauntered up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Did you hear that?," quipped 9, grabbing his lightstaff.
"Yes," said 1.
9 snapped his head toward the open door, drawing in a breath.
"We should investigate," said 9.
1, retracting his hand away from 9's shoulder, looked at the door, then at him. He was about to speak when 9 ambled toward the door, lightstaff gripped in both hands. He took a breath, then joined him, reluctant but also curious to see what was outside the room.
The two left the room, making their way toward the staircase. 9's head poked out of the doorway, staring down at each step.
The two waited with bated breath, fear coursing through them.
A loud crash echoed throughout the whole house, startling both stitchpunks. This was reason enough for 9 to go downstairs.
"Come on," he whispered.
"Wait," rasped 1, clasping his shoulder.
Before 9 could answer, another noise rang out, prompting 9 to look back down the stairs. He was about to make the descend when something at the bottom of the stairs convinced him to stop.
At the bottom of the stairs was a beast, and one neither had seen before. It walked on four legs, each leg ending with a clawed foot. The beast's skull resembled that of a canine's; it had the same shape with a long snout, but a few teeth were missing. Three sickles on the beast's back extruded to show off its intimidation. A tail ended with a sickle, switching side to side.
"What is that?," whispered 9.
"A beast," replied 1. "A...a Canine."
9 looked at the Canine, lightstaff held close to his body. He swallowed, but kept a sense of determination.
"Let's hope it doesn't find us," whispered 1.
"What are we going to do?," asked 9, glancing at him.
1 looked last 9, observing how the Canine keeping its snout close to the floor, completely unaware of the two stitchpunks.
"We'll have to wait until it leaves it to escape," said 1. "We should go back to the room lest it sees us."
9 observed the Canine carefully. It had its back turned to them, a low, guttural growl escaping its jaws. The zippered stitchpunk wanted to go after it, but 1 was right in the sense that the beast would find them.
He backed away from the doorway, clutching his lightstaff close to him. 1 followed behind, glancing back at the doorway before looking away. Leaving was on his agenda, but with the Canine roaming the house, waiting for it to leave would have to be their only choice.
Time would be their only hope.
The beast in this fanfiction is one I've already used before. I waned to create a new beast, but couldn't grapple one. I hope I come up with one the next time I write another 9 fanfiction.
Anyways, I hope you're ready for chapter three.