Whatever's Out There

Chapter One

Who am I? Well… That's a long story….

Or not. To be blunt I'm not exactly sure. I don't even have a decent name to call myself. I've been flipping through a couple of ideas, but not going anywhere fast, and the last one I settled on was below par at beast. Enough on that, I guess I should go further into myself to give a better description. My name is missing at the present and I enjoy daydreaming, sewing things that almost look like dresses, and occasionally writing, well, until I ran out of ink. I guess I should probably scratch that one off the list, but I would need ink to do that.

I look pretty plain. My fabric is a sort of cream color; not quite white, but not quite tan. I have hair that's like leather in locks, dark brown, and a front that laces up. Usually I use my red ribbon for this, but I have a few others that I've collected from the inside of my home or taken from something else. My home; here's where we finally arrive at why I have no long backstory to go through. My first memory was of me coming here for shelter, to my home, and since then I haven't left once.

It's a lovely house. Two stories, mostly secure except for a dilapidated back room and a room upstairs with a body in it. It's another bedroom; I don't go in there unless I have to. I have learned from what I've seen around the house; Picture frames of a young couple worn by age taught me of romance, the pictures of an older woman alone taught me of heartbreak, photo albums of children and adults taught me about family. There were books of wonder and excitement that kept my attention and grew my imagination to the point where I needed nothing else.

I spent most of my life daydreaming about what adventures lay outside of the window, though. It was always the biggest and practically only mystery. Looking out though I saw nothing except an empty world and stared blankly with my face pressed again the glass. How long until something came for me? Would something ever come?

Usually I pulled myself out of these thoughts and moved on to another activity, so I never thought long about if I would ever leave my home, leave the gate surrounding the empty yard, and search for something out there. It was certainly an imaginative thought. Just imagining amazing sites and adventures out there was perfect. Though that was all I wanted from it. I wanted to imagine it so I didn't end up going out and finding nothing, I was too afraid to leave and go out there, so instead I spent my days keeping with the status quo. Content with my life.

I should have known that things weren't going to stay like that forever, but I didn't, I stayed oblivious to it. The end came one night during a bad storm when I was curled in my bed. I'm sure it used to be some sort of pet bed when the Humans were alive, but I managed to make it into something better. Either way, there I was curled in my bed, mind filled with dreams that usually involved strange things and weren't remembered by morning, when I did remember them they were usually about humans appearing or me getting ten feet taller, something bizarre, when there was a crashing noises.

At first I thought that the thunder outside was simply obnoxiously loud and promptly huddled at the farthest reach of my bed in an attempt to get sleep. It wasn't until the next morning that I saw what had happened. In the upstairs study, beside the bedroom I don't go in, part of the roof had actually fallen in and spilled rainwater everywhere. That was when I realized I had some trouble. "I'm not going to be able to fix that." I spoke to myself; I did so to stunt any sort of loneliness and continued the habit onwards.

I ran a hand through my hair, "That's going to get everywhere, and that's going to rot through, then I'll get another hole." A few seconds passed where I just thought this over. Then I realized the truth; the house wasn't going to stay forever. From what I saw the old woman who lived in the house couldn't do proper maintenance alone as the house wasn't in the best condition. Now it was falling apart. Now I had to actually make a plan for what I was going to do if I had to leave. I'll admit that I was scared… Well, again.

It wasn't until around noon when I finally came with a solution. I was sitting on the steps of the stairway, staring out the small window above the front door, when I spoke once again. "Well… I have to go out eventually. I can't live here forever without seeing what's out there…" I rested my chin on my hands and my elbows on my knees, staring out at whatever was out there, and scowled a bit. It was one thing imagining the world out there; another to actually have to go out there and face whatever was waiting.

I knew about the Machines. I saw the newspaper clippings that the woman cut out of the Scientist, of the Chancellor, of the Machine. I didn't know every detail, but I knew something terrible happened and now all of the humans were completely gone. The only thing out there was a Machine. On the same hand I had not yet seen something wandering around out there, so maybe it was safe, at least at the present it seemed to be so. "Is that rational thinking or- No. If I'm speaking out loud to myself then I lost all credibility." I murmured before standing.

Unfortunately I didn't exactly have a choice. I had to go out there and figure out what was there. Then I could either return home or find somewhere new, end of story, I had to do it. I shoved a bad full of some supplies, mostly an extra ribbon and some thread, and decided to leave. I left through the window in the living room and landed onto a tall flower pot full of dead brambles that were dried out and scratched at my fabric. It took me a few good minutes to untangle myself from there before I actually headed out across the front lawn. Or what was once styled to be a lawn.

It was so strange. I was so excited to be out there, to see it, but I was still so scared. Paranoia rose inside and I scanned the area around me, waiting for something to jump out at me. Nothing did so and I finally managed to make it all the way to the front gate. A pitiful milestone, but one regardless. Then I was out in the street. I could go anywhere in the world. I was free.

Then I headed right back inside my home, curled in my bed, and I laid there depressed for a while. I just couldn't do it. Maybe it was because I thought there was something out there that I couldn't face, maybe because I was afraid that I'd find nothing, and I much preferred to live in my little world of denial longer. It was the worst thing that had happened in my life; I was forced to leave my home to go out into a world of destruction and massacre brought on by hulking mechanical monstrosities because my only home was falling apart.

When I did straighten myself I will give myself credit because I headed straight back out to try again. This time the high from excitement wasn't present and I was shivering the entire time. But I'm rambling on here. So I started to realize that I was having real trouble leaving. I hadn't ever tried before so I didn't realize that I actually had an issue until this exact point in time. The next day I tried again, walking out about a foot and a half before running back inside. That time I didn't cry at least, not that I cried before or anything.

Then the next day I tried, and the next day, and every day I got to the gate and stared down the street before turning back and heading inside. I wish I could say that eventually I made it out farther… That would be a complete lie. This went on for a month.

Then something different happened.

It was a rainy day so I knew that I couldn't go out or I'd get wet and go nowhere quick. The nagging feeling reminding me that water was at the moment pouring into my shelter upstairs reminded that I couldn't waste more time. This was why I was perched on the window edge to do my work, staring outside and waiting for the rain to stop. I was working on some sort of hood to help with the rain, but was having trouble getting it to function. It was more of a poncho and the stitches weren't working out correctly.

Then I saw it out of the corner of my optic and stared outside towards the street. As I was on the second floor I could see over the gate and clearly saw the movement through the rainy street. My optics blinked in alarm and I dropped my hood, poncho, stitched cloth and approached the window before pressing against it. "Is that a-?" I choked, "That's a- That's a someone!" A shook that off, "That's someone! There's someone out there!" I couldn't believe it; after years alone there was actually somebody outside.

I had to catch them before they got past the yard and disappeared; I ignored the half stitched cloth and dropped down from the window before running towards the stairs. "Wait! I called out as I climbed down from the window, the open window that I used to get outside and not the other one, and dropped into the yard. "Wait! I'm here! Don't go!" I cried desperately as I looked towards the gate. While my nerves were shot once again, my body clearly shaking, I forced myself forward and sprinted as fast as I could. I was way too out of shape for my own good and was panting and stumbling.

"Wait!" I called again, weaker, and managed to get through the gate and onto the road. The rain poured down and I pushed my hair out of my face to see. Looking down the street I saw the figure and inhaled in a gasp. He wasn't too far, I could force myself farther, I could get him before I started an episode. And, yes, I already knew that I was going to have an episode, because I always had an episode. I rushed forward, slipping on the wet concrete, and managed to catch up with it. It was a little shorter than me with striped fabric and yarn hair.

I was completely flabbergasted that this Stitchpunk was here, wandering out in the middle of nowhere. "Hello!" I called out to him in a desperate greeting and he turned to face me. His optics were widened and he was clutching himself strangely while I merely watched him, "Umm…" This was an awkward situation. "Are you alright?" I asked and he didn't respond, merely stared at me. I then realized how much he was trembling, "You're… Not alright, are you?" It seemed that this managed to set him off as he suddenly started to sway a bit on his feet before beginning to stumble. I choked a bit and reached out, "Oh, hey, wait!"

I managed to catch him, but his weight took us both down to the ground, him sprawling across me sideways. I straightened myself quickly and looked down at him on my lap in confusion. I didn't know exactly what to say and instead gently shook him. That was when I noticed how hot his fabric was. He was burning in my hands and running such a high temperature that it was clear that he wouldn't have been able to walk much farther away. I was shocked he was walking at all. There was something really wrong with this Stitchpunk.

The '6' on its back meant something, but it was still raining and he was now unresponsive, so I managed to pull him over my back and lugged him inside. I may have been weak, but he was light enough that I could make it back inside if I moved slow, though I had to actually put him down and get the front door open to carry him in. I got him upstairs and dropped him onto my bed where I could see he was actually awake, but acting remotely quiet. "Hey there," I spoke out, "are you hurt?" He didn't answer more than a few mutters and I reached forward to touch his head. Once again it was burning hot and it was clearly some sort of fever.

This explained why he was stumbling around unresponsive… Somewhat. I still had no idea who he was, but I knew that he and I were the same kind, we had to be. Even though he was boiling he was shivering so I covered him up before going to get a compress, which meant to wrap a rag around a crochet needle and stick it out the window until run off from the roof landed on it. I guess I should probably mention the needle since I use it frequently when I try to crochet; it's made of metal and has a tiny hook on one end. That's about it.

The wet rag was the place over the doll's forehead and yarn. He was breathing deeply and it was beginning to scare me. He was ill, maybe from being out in the rain, and for a few hours he seemed to only be getting worse. I tended to him constantly in an attempted to get him somewhat stable, but everything went wrong by the afternoon. At this time the doll went into a fit. I was stitching again, though I had moved beside the bed now and was still not getting anything done.

"Seven..." The voice suddenly brought me back to reality and I looked back to the bed to see the male doll was now awake, or more responsive, sort of. "Seven what?" I asked; the fact that he had a six on his back hadn't occurred to me at the moment and I was more focused on the present findings than the ones I learned hours ago. "Seven?" Now he asked, his face contorting in fear, and he sputtered out, "Where- Where am I?" I put my hands up in defense and explained, the words coming out a bit quickly, "It's okay, you're okay. You were walking around outside and sort of collapsed."

I could tell immediately that he wasn't fully there. It was from the fever most likely and he suddenly began to mutter, "Need to get home." He started attempting to climb out of bed. "I don't think you should be getting up." I pointed out as gently as possible even though my body's reflexes were to run over and stop him before he ended up falling off of the bed. Only when he teetered a bit did I go forward and put my hands on his shoulders, "You can't get up yet. Not with how you are. Now let's just lay back down and I'll go get you another rag."

"No." He spoke clearly, "No, I have to go home, I have to get back. I shouldn't have left. I need the others."

"The Others?" I immediately perked; there were others? How many dolls were out there that I didn't know about? I always thought that maybe there were others just outside of my grasp, but I never actually pieced together that there could be ones so close. The doll continued to try and get by, but I held him firm, and it didn't take much for me to overpower him. In fact, all I had to do was barely hold him and he couldn't get up the rest of the way. "Just rest a little longer, please?" I was practically begging and he meekly spoke, "I need to find them. I need them."

"Do…" I started slowly, "Do you think they'd know how to stop this fever?" Then I added in, "Were you injured or did you just get a fever?" He finally laid back down on the bed and curled on his side before speaking again, "They know how to fix us, Two does and Five does, they can fix me." That's when I finally took in the number situation; he was referring to other dolls as numbers while he had a number as well. "You're Six?" I asked and he looked to me in clear confusion, not knowing whether his mind was confused and had told me without remembering.

"I saw the number on your back." I explained as I moved a little closer in interest. He seemed to ease and murmured, "I'm Six." The looked down at the bed pitifully. Something was wrong; he looked distressed emotionally. "Did something happen?" I thought to myself, "He didn't answer if he was attacked out there… Maybe something happened to the others? I don't know, he's not exactly in shape to prod him about it." I busied myself by retrieving the rag that had fallen onto the bed, climbing over Six to get it, "Why don't I get you some more water? Maybe we can get that fever down."

As I pulled back he stopped me, his mismatched optics wide with helplessness, "Please." He began to beg me, "I need… I need the others… Can you go find them? I need them, please." My body ran cold and I choked a bit. "You… Uh… You want me to go find them…?" I gestured back with my thumb, "Out there? Won't they eventually- Why don't we wait until they get here? They'll come looking for you eventually, won't they?" His mismatched optics closed tiredly and he admitted, "They don't know where I am. I left and they didn't know. Please."

I didn't want to go out there. No, scratch that, I couldn't go out there. Every time I hit the gate I went into panic and was forced to come back fruitless. So I was at an absolute standstill, staring at him, trying to find a way to talk myself out of this corner. "I... Can't, exactly." His brows furrowed, "Why not?" This was embarrassing, "I… Uh… I'm afraid to go outside." He didn't respond and simply stared at me so I explained. "Every time I get out there I just end up coming back inside. I just can't, I can't go any farther than that, I'm sorry."

"But you came to me." He pointed out and I winced. I knew that was going to be brought into the conversation; after all, I had been out further than the gate so that I could reach Six's side, so it disproved my quote. "Well I… I don't know. I guess I was desperate so I…" I couldn't stand the uncomfortable part of the conversation and looked towards the curtained window. The afternoon sun glowed through the window and I started to think to myself about going out there. Would it be safer at night? Maybe I'd be less likely to be seen by any Machine, if there even were Machine's left.

"Okay, here's what we'll do." I turned to Six and reasoned, "I'll… I'll get ready and if they don't appear by evening I'll go out and search for a little, but I really think they'll find you-." He reached out and hugged ahold of me in an affectionate and delirious way. His temperature was so high that I was surprised he was talking straight at all. He was thankful, he must have really missed his family, and I simply hoped that this meant they were nearby. I rubbed over his back, "It's okay. We'll get them back here and we'll get you feeling better."

Though I didn't think I could feel any worse. I didn't want to go out there; I didn't want to leave my home. But I absolutely had no choice in the matter. I didn't know how to help a fever and if he got too ill I knew that there was a chance he could, well, it was best not to even think of that.

Either way, I dismissed myself to prepare to leave, and he decided to rest. By time I came back with the dampened rag he was in a fitful sleep. Dabbed some on his forehead; the poor thing. I didn't know how the others could have left him alone, he seemed so helpless, like a little child. I remember that I had a fleeting thought that I could take care of him. He struck me as a good sibling. Then it struck me that I was pathetically trying to find a reason not to go out there and caved again; I had to at least try before I caved.

I needed something to defend myself, and it was then that my settled upon the sewing kit. The sewing kit belonged to the woman who lived in the house and was usually where I retrieved my needles, thread, and used to retrieve bits of fabric. Unfortunately I used most of the fabric in my first year of life with mere practice. In fact, I had used quite a bit of the comforter in the guest bedroom as well for practice. At least there were countless spools of thread left; most in colors I that didn't match the bluish purple fabric I had to work with.

There was a little spool of red that I was saving for a rainy day, but it wasn't exactly appropriate for the situation at hand. Instead the boxes at the bottom of the kit were most appropriate. "More needles." I murmured as I opened one of the small boxes of cardboard; needles were nice, but not exactly weapon worthy. Though one was large enough that I immediately plucked it out for later use, "Might be able to do something with this. Okay, let's see." I moved to the smallest box that rattled as I drug it in front of me.

Pulling the rubber band that held it closed off I stared inside to see nothing more than a set of safety pins. Brass in color and all relatively large, I lifted one and opened it to reveal the sharp point. "Maybe I could use these. Wouldn't make a good knife or anything, but maybe I could…" My mind suddenly went to the rubber band and I tested its elasticity before looking back at the safety pins. I lifted one and tested it against the band, pulling it back while hooking the band on my hand and ankle, then launched said pin across the box.

Inspiration struck; if I couldn't make a very reliable handheld then I could overcome the issues with a long range weapon. The ammo could be safety pins, the launcher would be the rubber band, and all I needed was some sort of wooden base. I grabbed the needle as well and hooked a spool of black thread under my arm. For the next few hours I went to work on everything I needed, sprawling everything out at my workstation that I had placed on the window seal.

Thankfully, I did have some wood that I could use in the living room set beside the fireplace. It wasn't like I needed to light it for anything; it never seemed to get too cold in the house, so I used my only pair of scissors to carve some of the wood free. Tedious, perhaps, but I managed to get what I needed free. First I worked on a shaft to fire the safety pins with. I managed to find a small piece of metal that I wedged in a small hole in the center of one side of the shaft, able to hold the band, but when pulled back would allow the band to be released, which was also connected more thoroughly on the other side.

It was still makeshift at best, but it would work. Then I worked on the melee weapon that I knew it would be best if I had as well. I overlooked the needle and decided to use it like some sort of sword, carving a wooden handle with my scissors and then bounding them together with some thread. As I whipped it around I was content with my work; maybe not incredibly powerful, but it would work, especially with my other weapon as well. Both together would be incredibly effective.

I also decided to use my new poncho, unfortunately as scraps. Because it wasn't cooperating when I tried to put it on, I decided to use the red fabric for something else. First I cut a long ribbon free and then a square, the ribbon I tied around my waist and hung the safety pins on, so I could carry them around with me. The rest I tied and wrapped it over my head like a makeshift hood, like the ones I saw in the fairy tale books, knowing that it would somewhat cover my head at least.

Now I was ready enough. I had two weapons, some ammo, and it was growing dark outside so I deduced that I would be hidden enough. I also took a bundle of matches as well; they were long ones so I hoped that they would last longer than normal ones. Though I was having trouble juggling it all and ended up having to tie the shooter to my waist so that I could carry everything else. Finally ready, and probably more defenseless than I was before I started, I headed to Six's bedside once again.

Gently I shook him awake and when his mismatched optics wearily opened it was time for an explanation, "I'm going to go look for you friends. It shouldn't take too long, but if it does there's a pack of matches by the candle in case it goes out." He looked over groggily and I reached to feel his temperature, "You feel… Stable enough. Sure you want me to go?" While I looked to him for answers my mind began to repeat, "Please say no. Please say no. Please say no."

When he nodded my fate was sealed and I forced a smile. "Don't get out of bed, okay? Just get some sleep. If you hear something downstairs or anything then just hide and don't go looking; I'll come back here when I come home, so if I don't it's probably something else." I didn't want to even think of something from out there getting in, but paranoia stood strong. "So, okay. I'm going." I stood and wandered towards the door, "I guess I'll just circle around. I don't suppose you remember which way- Well you were a little delirious so… So yeah."

I finished as I noticed he was falling asleep once again. "See you." Then I was in the hall and heading towards the stairs. My pulse raced in protest as I hurried down the stairs and to the cracked window that I could slide out of. Now I was outside in the darkness. "Alright." I announced as I lit a match on the wall, "No turning back." I was right. There was no chance to turn back. I had to face what laid past my home.

Whatever was out there.