1's POV

My joints creak and squeak as I get up. The cathedral is the same as ever this morning. Cold and grey. My footsteps echo around the stone room, mingling eventually with a curious noise from the next room. Frowning, I pace in that direction.


A long, sharp, pointed object flies straight at me as I open the door. I gasp and duck, and the spear sails through the doorway into my room. Standing before me is 7, frozen in a spear-throwing stance. Suddenly she defrosts.

"1. Trust you to get in the way."

"GET IN THE WAY?! You threw it at me!"

"I was aiming for the door, actually."

She points to the door, where a target has been pencilled and a caricature of myself stuck in the centre.

"That's the last straw! I'm going-"

"AT LAST!" 7 hollers, and performs a victory dance. "Guys! Guys! 1 is-"

"I'm going …for a walk." I say in the iciest tone I can muster. 7 does not bother to hide her disappointment.

I hate the Emptiness. It's stupid. It's cold. It's grey. It's stupid. It's stupider. Everything is stupid. Stupid 7. Stupid 6. Stupid 5. Bloody stupid twins. Stupid 2. I kick stones around and sulk. Just as I am at the climax of my sulkiness, I hear a voice. My feet stop. I strain to listen. The voice is recognisable as 6's stuttering childish tone.

Ha! The inky little fool really is mad! He even talks to himself! Ha, ha!

I'm so busy silently mocking 6, I don't notice the hut.

And then I stop suddenly, for 6 is with somepunk!

I hide behind a rock and watch as the other stitchpunk picks 6 up on his back as if he weighed nothing. With shouts of laughter the duo cavort about, 6 sliding around on the bigger 'punk's back as he trips into craters. They come closer, and I catch a glimpse of a number '8' on the newcomer's arm.

8 is strong. Muscular. Athletic. Huge.

And just what I need.

OOH, SINISTER! You like it, huh? Leave a review, s'il vous plait, 'cause I love to hear what you guys think about my stories! :D ~Lucca