Again don't own 9
The Brewing Storm
In a dark isolated chamber a match was lit. To the flames came the top of a rough solid cone. Once the cone was lit it was set down upon a tablet of clay and a set of copper fingers wrapped around the glowing end of the match to extinguish the flame. The match then was cast aside and the handler knelt before the burning incense. Thick perfumes floated up from the cone in perfect tubes of smoke that twisted and wove about in the air. The dim glow of which they emanated barely reflected off the circular disk that the worshiper bore, marked with strange symbols.
The same copper fingers stroked against the sacred disk and the engraved marks gently as a low chant began.
"Come. You spirits who tend on mortal thought. Spirit to protect, spirit to lead, spirit to guide, spirit to guard, and spirit to inspire. Come, and fill me from the crown to the toe, top full with your purest wisdom; make thick my oil. Stop up the access and passage of fear and doubt, that no compunctious visiting of nature shake my fell purpose."
To the words the markings on the metal jewel glowed in an eerie green light, which reflected up and through the chanter's eyes of glass.
In a meditative trance the seer saw visions, voices and faces of the past, present, and a hazy image of what was to come. All of which swirled around in the glow of the amulet and the ribbon smoke of the aroma. "They are coming… as you did command…"
Through the misty haze a face appeared into sight. From this image a chain of destruction erupted into the other vision. A frightened gasp escaped as an image suddenly broke the trance and the seer fell over on her back. "No… it cannot be… It must not be..."
The echo of thunder rolled throughout the skies and through the walls of the chamber, "A storm is coming, thus bad begins, and worse remains…"
Outside by the river 4 was waiting by the shore for 'C' to return with her family. Against the night blue shadows of night the blue clothed doll seemed to almost disappear in the landscape. In her eager mind she thought over excitedly of how to tell them of her adventure and the wondrous forms of life she had seen. Also, of how there were other Stitchpunks still alive and surviving in this harsh land.
High above the clouds were gathering in thunderous towers. Dark and heavy they were with their burdens. Slowly from up the river down the skies opened up to the clouds would release their collection down upon the lands.
Without her notice the river levels were steadily rising up the shore.
4 eventually felt something cold tap against her hood and arms. Little circles dotted her fabric, just as they did at the mass funeral. Rain. Reluctantly, she pulled herself up from the shore and moved closer toward the house for shelter.
The sudden sound of splashes behind her stopped her in her tracks. She quickly turned back to the lake. 'C' was there, trying to pull herself from the water. 4 raced back and asked eagerly for word from her family. The little doll looked around anxiously for signs of them.
'C' giggled lightly, "Nice to see you too."
4 flicked her eyes to ask again.
She smiled lightly, "You're friends are with my sisters and they're on their way."
The lost twin could not contain her joy to the news and danced about on the softening soil that lined the shore.
The aquatic Stitchpunk smirked and tried to pull herself out further, "You think you can hold your celebrating until we're in the house? This river tends to flood and I don't want to be carried off."
4 paused and looked to her friend curiously. Why did 'C' have to drag herself on the shore? And not just walk?
Before she could wonder further in the subject the river suddenly swelled, and a rush of water washed atop of the slower current. The unexpected rise in the tide caught 'C' in its watery grasp and dragged her further in the water.
4 stood in shock to see 'C' fighting desperately against the current. She glanced around franticly for something to help pull her back to shore. The little doll ran down the river found the plastic sack she was carried away in earlier. She grabbed it and ran toward a rusted pipe that hung just above the waters. She climbed up the pipe and waited with the sack. Despite the night sky and the dark waters she was able to see the black rubber form of 'C' flow with the current toward her. She swung the sack down just before the doll was swept under her, catching 'C' in her own bag.
'C' felt herself caught up in the sack and the water flow around her passed the plastic barrier. She looked up to see the young girl holding the bag, saving her, "Thanks kid."
The rescue would have been easy, were it not for the flood of water that followed the doll in the plastic bag. The combined weight was too much for 4's arms to hold and she was soon pulled into the rapids
Further down the river 4 and 'C' managed to wash themselves to shore and climb to higher ground inside a broken down truck. It was difficult for while the rubber skinned doll was strong, her flipper-like hands and feet made it difficult to climb. 4 had to drag her up from the ground to the deep ridged tires, then through the broken off doorway. Once inside and she had caught her breath, 4 wrung out the collected water from her 'tail' and hood in hopes to get somewhat dry.
'C' tried to stand up but her paddled feet could not support her evenly and she fell on her side. She sighed heavily in frustration. "Times like this I wish I had feet…"
4 couldn't help but smile and went to help her. Together they moved away from the edge of the door and climbed up into one of the seats. Once there they nearly passed out from exhaustion. Now they also had a block against the chilling winds that blew outside, not just the rain. Fortunately there were no remains of humans in the vehicle to accompany them as well.
'C' rolled into a corner and panted heavily, "We should be safe up here until morning."
4 laid herself close by 'C' for the comforting presence of another Stitchpunk. Her tiny, soaked, cloth covered, frame shivered against the cold. She unwillingly drifted off to the sounds of the wind and rain pattering on the roof and the flowing river just outside.
She woke up the next morning at the break of dawn. Her eyes met the inside of the old rested truck that served as their shelter through the storm. Beams of sunlight poured through the windows illuminating the gray/green interior.
4 glanced over to 'C' nearby to see that she was still fast asleep. Her paddled hands folded under her head as would a cat in slumber.
Carefully the hooded doll stood up to explore their shelter. The dry leather cracked and flaked a bit beneath her feet while she moved. She glanced down to the floor of the truck to see the river had been raised high enough to fill the truck with a shallow lake of water. At least now 'C' could swim out of here.
She backed away and moved to the high back of the seat that curved around to the trunk. The lost twin raced over to the seatbelt strap and climbed up to reach the top. Once at the peak she looked out the rain cleansed back window. A vast sea of water stretched as far as she could see over the once low roads. Towers of ruins and automobiles were now islands in a vast sea. The light shimmered on the fresh rain water, reflecting in many wondrous colors to her eyes. She smiled contently when she felt the warm sun on her dampened fibers. 4 then wondered if the world before the war was anything like this. This miracle of nature…
Once her frame and fabrics were dry 4 glanced down to the dark space behind the seat. Through the morning shadows she spied a box-like shape covered in a shroud of heavy cloth. She leaned in closer to get a better look, but the top of the seat was rounded and the worn leather was smooth beneath her feet. She slipped and fell atop of the box. The cloth over the shape softened her fall, but the rattle of metal wire was still heard from beneath the shroud. Dizzy from the drop, she pulled herself up and rubbed her back and head.
"Who goes there?" A brand new, unfamiliar voice said from down below.
She would have gasped if she had a voice. The lost twin scrambled off the box and skittered along the edge of the surrounding wall. The terrain behind the seats were higher than the other side to the carpet beneath were only soggy, not flooded. Her eyes fixated on the box, waiting for something to emerge. But nothing came. Quietly she neared the covered shape. The Stitchpunk took hold of a fold in the fabric and lifted it up to look inside.
After a moment or two she managed to pull the corner over the top so she did not have to hold it up to look around.
From deep within she heard a rough gravelly voice say, "What's this? A strange lass come to show mercy on a poor man?"
4 stepped in closer to see who was in there. But before she could go in she ran into a sturdy metal wire fence. She flicked her eyes to see if there was a way around it. The reflection from her flashing eyes revealed a large metal cage or animal trap. Though the image was dark and fuzzy she spotted something inside, covered in dark rags in the farthest corner from her. Her eyes flickered as she tried to ask what the stranger was doing in there.
The prisoner shifted in the darkness to the curious visitor, as though it had never seen another living creature in the longest while. "Can you help me? I have been trapped in this cage for so long. A monster stole me from my home and locked me in here. Will you be so kind as to let me out? It has been ages since I had last seen the sun."
4 felt pity for the poor wretch imprisoned in the cage. She remembered all too well of the prison she was in while her family still lived in the cathedral. How weak she got being away from her brother. This stranger must be missing his family dearly. Could he possibly be a relative of her new friends? In any sense she did not wish anyone to suffer in a cage. No one should be denied the wondrous things she had seen.
She maneuvered herself around the cage in search for a lock or latch that held the cage shut. One side was blocked off by the wall and the other sides were hidden in the heavy cloth draped over the prison. She managed to find a lock but the key was nowhere to be seen. Quickly she searched around the trunk for tools. Sure enough she found a metal nail file and a paper clip. With some maneuvering 4 managed to bend the paperclip until it was the shape she desired.
The sad lonely captive crept closer to the door as the little doll fitted the file and bent wire in the lock and maneuvered with them to unlock the cage.
She pushed and pulled at her lock picks to catch the tumblers inside and release the lock when suddenly she heard 'C's voice cry out.
Thought that for the 9th chapter of my 9 story there should be a very 9 mistake. XP
Read and Review please