landed on my foot. I kicked it away and that’s when I noticed that it was small, but it looked like just a fragment so I couldn’t be
sure who it belonged too. Then I noticed the strands of pink in it.
Maybe London wasn’t as pleased with Cassara as she had
hoped she’d be, I thought as I grabbed the piece of skin and
settled down at the closest machine I could find.
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Eight
I decided not to go out that night. Obviously someone had
been trying to send me a message by sending me that hideous
jack in the box and I wasn’t sure if they could’ve been lurking
outside.
What I had done instead though was to make a mockery of the
little warning that had been sent to me. Yawning as the sunlight
started to pour into the building I leaned back in my chair with
my arms crossed in front of me staring at my work.
The hideous clown with the electric blue hair now had a stripe
of pink down the middle. It wasn’t perfect especially since I had
to remove the scalp which left me with less hair than I wanted to
use but still every time I looked at it, it would provide me with
amusement and a small victory against London.
I stared at it for a moment then turned my head slightly to
look out the window. It was definitely morning out in the world
and here I was still awake sitting with this “gift”. I yawned again and reached forward, tapping the clown on the nose and watched
it rock back and forth. Placing my elbows on the table I put my
face in my hands for a moment before I stood and decided to go
back up to the third floor to lie down.
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As I slowly climbed the staircase and with as much as I
cursed myself for falling to pieces basically I had forgotten that I had the journal all along. I had forgotten about it because of the barrage of things that seemed to keep coming at me.
In a way, I felt sick as I stood in the doorway of my room.
Had I taken the time to think things through and not act on the
impulse I had witnessed a few times before, I could’ve avoided
having pieces of Cassara stitched to my face.
I felt like the worst part of London was starting to come
through me; as if I were made in her image. I seemed to be
committing the same crimes against humanity as she did even
though Cassara was not human. Only parts of her were. As I did
my best not to think about it anymore I scanned the room for the
journal. I wasn't sure where it could possibly be now since I had
moved so many things around in the span of a few months.
After an hour of frantically searching, I finally gave up. The
book wasn't in this room where I had originally brought it. I didn't know where else it could be unless -- Unless whoever was in here
earlier leaving me the grotesque little present had stolen it while I was gone.
My body began to tremble as I felt myself begin to get warm.
I didn't know that a junk heap could feel heat and yet here I was
shaking and getting warmer by the moment. It was rage; it had to
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be. Having something stolen from me had given me yet another
human emotion.
I knew that when I found the thief, I would do something
terrible to them. They had stolen, not only something that would
better help me to understand how to defend myself against
London's toys, but my only means of survival. I wouldn't be able
to preserve myself long enough to get my revenge against London.
I would fall apart instead and wither away before I could come
face to face with her again unless I do to others what I did to
Cassara. I knew that was something I'd never be able to do, but I
wasn’t going to lie down and expire without a fight.
Unfortunately, I wouldn't know where to begin my search. I
obviously couldn't go to London's home just yet and search the
rooms, even though I knew deep within my core that's where the
journal had probably made its way back to.
I walked over to the window and sat on the outer ledge. Being
in the direct sunlight was not the best place for me and I knew it, but I felt like a little self-punishment because I felt like I honestly deserved it.
I had made myself into even more of a walking abomination
by stitching another's skin to my face and using another's eye to
complete my vision.
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The longer I sat on the ledge, the longer I thought of giving up.
It was inevitable that she would win one way or another, it was
really on a question of how and when.
"You're not going to jump are you?" a voice called up to me.
Parting my legs just enough to be able to see, I glanced below
and saw a male looking up at me. He had light brown hair that fell straight, stopping just above his shoulders. I couldn't see the color of his eyes from where I was but I saw the dark, square shaped
spectacles he wore. He looked tall and strong even from three
stories below. His face was very pleasant to look at even though it seemed to be clouded over with concern at that moment.
I shook my head and he grinned. My heart began to beat and
tick erratically. That smile, those teeth; I had seen them twice
before already. When I would look in the mirror and when
Cassara had exposed hers to me. He had to be another one of
London's monsters. He just had to be.
"Come up if you'd like," I called back down evenly.
I already knew I was going to rip him to pieces the second I
got the chance. As I hoisted myself back into the room, I was
trying to decide how I would send him back to London. Should I
send him in a box or a nice, neat package with a ribbon bow?
I ran down the stairs as fast as I could and hid next to the
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opening that was the front entrance.
"Hello?" he called as he stepped inside.
I waited until he walked a few steps away from me before I
ran up behind him and wrapped my arm around his neck. Even
though he was slightly taller than me I had managed to get
enough of a secure grip to where I was able to make his knees
buckle slightly.
"What are you doing?" he managed to gasp out as he
struggled against me.
Instead of answering him, I tightened my grip. He let out a
pathetic gurgling noise as he slumped toward the ground. I closed
my eyes and tuned out all other sounds so that I could hear his
ticking slow down and stop, but I couldn't hear any ticking
whatsoever that didn't already belong to me.
When he finally stopped struggling, I let him go and his body
hit the floor with a dull thud. I got down on my knees next to him and put my head against his chest and listened.
I instantly became horrified. I didn't hear anything slowing
down inside of him except for his human heart. I had made a
grave error. He wasn't a creation; he was human. That alone told
me he had nothing to do with London because she had purposely
stayed as far away from humanity as she possibly could.
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Oh please wake up, I thought frantically. I had done almost
the same thing to Morrison and she had forgiven me, but would
he?
I gently slapped his face a couple of times to revive him and
he finally opened his eyes. They were a stunning shade of light
gray and miraculously enough they seemed to smiling at me.
“My mother always told me not to talk to strangers. Now I
know why,” he said with a weak chuckle.
I stood up and reached down a hand to him. He blinked hard a
couple of times before taking it and letting me help him up.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, “I thought you were something else.”
As he steadied himself on his feet and adjusted his spectacles,
he looked at me questioningly.
“Did you say something or someone else?”
I sighed.
There was no point in lying about what I had said so instead I
went over to the table and grabbed a sketchbook and pencil.
Leaning over the table I used the sunlight as a makeshift lamp so I could see what I was doing. Quickly I drew out what I had
assumed him to be, which is what I am myself. I sketched a man
and drew the insides as best as I could remember from the journal.
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While the parts looked human enough, I was sure to clearly show
that most of my insides consisted of scrap.
He seated himself in a chair across from me waiting patiently
for me to finish. I tried to dismiss his presence even though he
wasn't distracting or bothersome. I grabbed a dark pen to detail
the parts of me that made me tick.
He coughed a couple of times and cleared his throat quietly.
I glanced up at him, then back down at my drawing. As I put
the finishing touches on my work I thought of his eyes again. I
had never seen eyes like that before; not on a human or on
London's discarded junk pile. I had to stop thinking of his eyes or I'd never stop mindlessly doodling on my already finished work.
Dropping the pen, I turned the sketchbook upside down and
slid it across the table to him. He smiled at me then looked down
and began examining my "explanation." I chewed on my
fingernail, careful not to rip any of the skin off as I nervously
awaited his reaction. After a few more moments, he set the book
down. The friendly smile on his face was gone causing me to
immediately become guarded.
Slowly he got up from his chair and started to walk around the
table. I clenched my fists but didn't move an inch. If I let him
know that I was suddenly afraid of him, he could take advantage
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of that weakness and most likely dismantle me. Once he was on
my side he crossed his arms across his chest and examined me
with his eyes. I felt slightly uncomfortable but I still didn't move away. Finally he raised his eyes to meet mine again and used one
finger to move his spectacle up his nose.
"I'm only going to ask you one question. Depending on your
answer, I'll know if I should run and never turn back or if I should ask another question," he said seriously.
I nodded once.
"Are you insane? I apologize for my bluntness but I have to
know," he said furrowing his brow.
"No," I replied.
"Good, then my next question is, what's your name?"
"Caelum," I said feeling myself start to relax.
"Well Caelum, I'm Edison and so far it's been nice to meet
you. Except for the whole attempted murder thing," he said with a smile starting to play across his lips.
"I'm sorry," I said again quietly.
"I think I'll be able to get over it. I'm not one to hold a grudge for more than maybe ten or so minutes," he said chuckling.
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I turned my face away from him wondering if how long I
would feel guilty about almost killing him. Out of the corner of
my -- Jared’s eye, I saw him walk back to the sketchbook. He
studied it for a moment then grabbed the pencil and pen, sat down
and began to add to the drawing I made. Even though I was
curious I hung back. I figured he would show me if he wanted me
to see what he was doing. I was becoming fascinated with the
way he was concentrating. After a few more moments of working
he looked up at me.
"Is it okay with you if I measure you? I just want to make sure of something."
I stared at him.
The last time I had been measured was when I was being
fitted for my left arm. London had worn her work goggles as I
had come to call them. They looked She hadn't been particularly
cruel that time. She had me strapped to one of her larger work
tables as she usually did when she was going to add or take pieces away from me. With a rotary cutter, she had made a near perfect
incision where the arm would go on my torso. I bit down on the
strap she had shoved in my mouth so that I wouldn't scream out in
pain. That was one small mercy she had allowed me. If I had
screamed she would've become sadistic. Her enjoyment over the
pain of others was something I never understood but it resembled
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a child on Christmas morning when they got just the gift they had
asked their parents for. Nevertheless, as I lay there in blinding
pain, she then went over and retrieved the arm she had chosen for
me. I wasn't sure where it came from and honestly, I didn't care. It was the first full piece she had ever given me. I remembered the
weight of her as she sat on my chest and leaned her body just
enough where she would be able to properly attach the parts of
me that weren't human so that my arm would work properly.
Every now and again when it twitched on its own she would
giggle slightly. It took her the entire night to attach that but she was careful to make sure that it worked just right before she
finally released me from the table and sat me up.
"Make a fist," she had commanded me and I did as I was told.
"Good," she had said with a satisfied grin, "Lift it over your head." Again, I did as I was told and she clapped her hands
together in pure delight. There was a slight tearing sound as one
of the stitches popped loose in the attachment process. "Oh I can fix that," she had said with that devilish gleam to her eye. “Lay back down and be a good boy.”
I had begged her not to do it day, I had begged her not to do it
day, to let us both get some rest before she started again the next night. She had put her hands on her hips and eyed me for a
moment before finally agreeing and removing the goggles from
where she had placed them on top of her head.
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"Caelum is it okay?" he prompted snapping me back to the current moment.
"Are you shaking?" he asked coming quickly to my side. I wrapped my arms around myself, still haunted by the memory. I
hadn't realized that I had started trembling until I held myself. He put his hands on my arm and led me to the chair he had been
sitting in, snapping the sketchbook shut and pushing it away from
me.
He found a stool and sat next to me with his arm around my
shoulders. I could hear him saying something to me, trying to
soothe me and calm my nerves, but I couldn't understand what he
was saying. I was shaking so hard
that the only thing I could
really hear as I sat there was my inner core rattling. How could he not feel that? I felt like everything inside me was going to
dislodge and fall to pieces at that one haunting memory.
"What did you add to my drawing?" I asked slurring my
words.
"Nothing that concerns you right now, Caelum," he replied brushing my hair out of my eyes, "What I need right now is for you to get up and come with me to get some fresh air, I think it
will do us both good."
I nodded still shaking rather violently. He grabbed my arm
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and placed it over his shoulders to help me walk. I honestly
expected him to take me outside, not back up to the third floor.
"Is this where you sleep?" he asked me softly as he laid me out on the cot. I nodded slightly. I watched him walk toward the
window and open it all the way up. The cool breeze of the day
made my body shiver just a little more but it felt sublime.
I felt safe and secure as he sat there keeping watch over me,
his hands still brushing my hair waiting for me to fall into a
resting phase. While I knew I should rest again I couldn't help
fighting it. I had already wasted enough time resting when I had
been abandoned by Morrison. My vision was starting to blur and I
could feel the shaking starting to subside. No matter how much I
fought it felt like Edison would be getting his way and I would be resting very soon.
I listened to my insides ticking and whirring. The world
around me would soon be obsolete as I started to slip into my rest.
Edison must've noticed because he stopped rubbing my hair. I
could slightly hear him rustling around for something in his
pocket as he sat there. I felt it when he moved his body away
from me and I heard the soft clink of something glass like. I felt a somewhat gentle mist as I heard something get pressed down. I
felt his hands on me again, only this time he was stretching my
arm out and holding it tightly. I felt a quick sting as something
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entered into my skin then a cool rush as something was released
into my system.
Before I lost consciousness I heard him whisper to me,
“Everything will be okay now. I promise I’ll never let her hurt
you again.”
When I awoke a few hours later, I felt different. No matter
what I always heard ticking as my body started to bring itself
back to full use, and this time I didn’t, all I heard was a soft,
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