Unwound (The Symphony of Brass and Bone)

by Yolanda Olson

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw a flash of pink duck into an alley.

  Not as fast as you’d like to be, are you? I thought to myself with a grim smile.

  Angel Face was following me and I wasn’t sure why.

  A plan suddenly formed in my head. I knew where I would draw her to and it would be somewhere she wouldn’ t have a place to hide. I looked both ways at the crossroads and walked quickly to the other side. My memory was all I could rely on now to get me back to where I needed to get her.

  Her footsteps behind me quickened as I picked up speed. I was going to make sure she was exhausted before I got her there that way she wouldn’t pose as big as a danger to me as she might like to.

  I never glanced behind me again because I knew she would always be there, instead after each turn onto a new block, I would quicken my pace even more. A grin formed on my face as after a few more moments I saw the park where I had met Finnegan in front of me. Maybe she would be there tonight and we could interrogate Angel Face together; I wasn’ t sure but I knew I could do it alone if I had too.

  I lowered my head as I walked even faster into the darkness of the empty park and made my way to the swing set, disappointed in the fact that she wasn’ t there that night. Behind me I heard the muffled jogging of my pursuer as she followed me directly into my new comfort zone.

  I stopped walking and turned to face her.

  It was so unexpected that she almost ran into me. I looked down at her. She came up to my chest but for some reason I just knew she was dangerous by the way she stared up at me. Backing up a bit she put her hands back into her pockets and looked at me vacantly, almost as if she were suddenly in a trance.

  “What’s your name?” I asked her coldly.

  “Cassara.”

  Her voice sounded like wind chimes as a soft breeze passes by.

  “Why are you following me Cassara?” I inquired.

  She didn’t answer me; instead she backed away just a little further, keeping her eyes locked on mine. Tilting her head slightly she smiled, revealing a row of perfect and impossibly white teeth.

  “I’ ve been trying to find you,” she said softly.

  A look of confusion crossed my face as she took her hands out of her pockets and balled them into fists at her side.

  “What?”

  She put one of her hands over her mouth as she giggled. Something was definitely wrong with Cassara and I was starting to feel that familiar twinge of fear.

  When she was done laughing at my confusion she put a single finger to her lips as if to tell me to be silent. Her eyes seemed to grow a little larger as she stared at me.

  The only sounds I heard were the sounds of the trees rustling, the wind blowing, the cars driving by on the street, and the occasional animal scurrying by.

  “Come closer,” she said suddenly.

  I gave a slight shake of my head. In the blink of an eye she was suddenly in front of me holding my arms to my side. She leaned up and put her lips to my ear and that’s when I heard it.

  The familiar sound that lulled me to rest every night and the familiar sound that I heard if I was in a quiet enough place; the sound of small wheels and cogs working away.

  “Mother sent me,” she whispered into my ear.

  Seven

  I wasn’t sure how I got away from her.

  She had run her tongue over my ear which began a vicious struggle and somehow I had finally managed to pull my arms free. Cassara took a piece of me with her after I managed to get out of her grip. I hadn’ t realized that she had razor sharp fingernails which she scraped down my arms as I was using all my strength to push her away from me.

  I looked down as I ran; she had taken my number from me. I had a gaping hole in my arm where London had branded me and I wondered if that would be her proof to her that she had found me.

  Would London reward her?

  I doubted it.

  If she had set one of her creations out to find me it was obviously to either bring me back to her dead or alive. Another reason I doubted London’ s approval for what Cassara would bring her is because she wouldn’t be going back as whole as she left. I clutched her right ear tightly in my hand as I ran.

  Cassara had taken a prize and I had done the same.

  This would be my private warning to London that if I could take a piece of one of her creations, that she herself would be easy enough to break.

  It served an additional warning to not send anymore of her little pets after me. I wanted London herself to come for me if she wanted me that badly but I knew this was the genius in her working. She would send them out to see how strong I was and what my weaknesses were.

  Grimacing at the pain I felt from my newly torn flesh, I wondered where I could go now that Cassara had found me. How long had she been tracking me? I wasn’t sure if she knew about the factory but I couldn’ t risk going back there, could I?

  I had too.

  It was the only place I knew slightly well enough to be able to recover and had it also had small, unexplored pockets of space to hide in. I ran faster than I ever had before; faster even than when I had escaped London. I had to get to the factory before sunrise because I didn’ t know what the sunlight would do to my wound and exposed inner workings.

  I darted around cars in the crossroads not caring that the drivers who were surprised by me suddenly running in their paths would honk their horns and yell obscenities at me. I had heard far worse from London on her nights where things weren’t working the way she wanted them too. I felt myself becoming exhausted and I wasn’t sure why. With as long as my body had rested I shouldn’t have felt exhaustion for at least another half year.

  Shake it off and keep going, I told myself.

  I could see the factory looming in the distance and for some reason, tonight it looked particularly ominous and for a brief moment I felt afraid. I stood in front of the building when I reached it cradling my wounded arm, my breath coming in heaving gasps.

  Be brave, I commanded myself silently.

  I approached the boards and kicked one in. I wasn’t exactly caring if anyone would notice that a trespasser was inside. Tonight I was in an unforgiving mood and anyone that dared to enter would deal whatever had taken over me that caused me to tear Cassara’s ear from her head.

  I pounded my way up to the third floor. As soon as I entered I made my way to the window and placed her ear on the windowsill. It was chilly in the room but I wanted to make sure that my prize would be preserved because I had every intention now of going back to London and I would make sure she knew it was I that took one of her precious creations and rendered it incomplete as she had done to me.

  As I lay my head down on the beaten old pillow that was left on the cot I used for my bed, I wondered if that was her intention all along. If sending one of her recently made creations after me would lure me back to her, what did she have in store for me?

  Would she kill me right away or would she slowly take me apart piece by piece?

  I closed my eyes and even with as exhausted as I was, my body refused to recharge itself. How could I have been so foolish leaving without the book? I ’m sure in it was some sort of care instructions and here I was planning revenge on my maker while slowly withering away. Grunting I rolled on my side. I could feel myself becoming bitter and that would serve me no purpose. I was losing myself in the thoughts that were now consuming me. How could a rotting timepiece destroy something so solid and real?

  I jumped when I heard something small land on the floor. My arm twitched slightly and continuously. I raised it so that I could see why it had taken on a sudden mind of its own. In the darkness, I peered at it but couldn’t figure out what the problem was until I pulled myself up to a seated position and angled it under the moonlight. That’s when I saw it; one of the pieces that was used to keep my motor skills intact lying on the floor next to the cot. I reached down to retrieve it and walked over to the window. Examining the wound in my arm, I saw where it had come lo
ose from and tried to slide it back in, but without the proper tools, it kept sliding out. Now I would have to learn how to control my arm or I would lose my life quickly against London.

  I tossed the cog next to Cassara’s ear. Neither thing was of use to me until I went back. Unless... I grabbed the ear and made my way down to the first floor with a horrifying plot in mind.

  Once I reached my destination I went directly to the table where I had made my shirt with Morrison’s help scanning for any tool that might be somewhat useful. I glanced around until I found the rotary cutter that I had used that night and sat at the end of the table with the large sewing machine in front of me.

  As I began my work I couldn’t help but feel a little sick. It’ s like the worst part of London was showing through me, but unlike her I had to be extremely careful with my arm giving a random almost constant twitch. What I did wasn’t perfect and what I did wasn’ t genius. What I did was done in a moment of desperation thinking that I could complete just a little more of myself than she had done.

  After the painstaking part of my plan was done, I retrieved a needle and some thread and made my way back up to the third floor with my possessions in hand. I put my materials on the windowsill and brought the mirror and cot over to that side of the room. I was going to have to work in the moonlight but if I concentrated and was careful enough, I knew I could do it.

  I took a deep breath and removed the patch that Jared had so kindly given me. I stared at myself trying to decide if this was worth going as far as London would. All that stared back at me was an empty eye socket with wheels and cogs busily spinning about inside showing through the gaps of skin she hadn’t bothered to close.

  Determination took over me.

  With my shaky arm, I threaded the needle and grabbed the pieces of skin I had removed from Cassara’ s ear. Leaning into the mirror I held a small piece above my eye and used my steady hand to break my flesh stitching the borrowed skin in place. After all, what was one more set of scars? What was another piece of skin that didn’t belong to me? What was one more discoloration to my imperfect complexion?

  It took almost an hour with my arm being so uncooperative. When I was done I stared at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t believe I had done this to myself. What pieces of her skin I could use covered most of the gaps and left only small gashes where the insides were still visible. I noticed that the gaps I had managed to cover looked like bruises now and it was because I had stretched her skin as much as I could without tearing it.

  While it wasn’t perfect, it would have to do. I grabbed the discarded pieces of skin and cartilage and threw them out the window.

  If only I had taken more of her, I could’ ve closed my arm as well.

  I sat down on the cot and put my head in my hands. What was becoming of me? Why had I dared to think that? If I was having these kinds of thoughts I should not have left. If I was already acting like a miniature of London, sewing skin onto myself, I should have stayed where I was and taken the torture and abuse. Maybe I should have just let London have her fun with me. I knew that eventually she would have deemed me unfit to be alive and took me apart piece by piece, stitch by stitch until I was nothing more than discarded pieces of flesh, broken bones, and small timepiece parts scattered across her many workstations ready to use for another creation.

  A soft breeze picked up outside as I sat there wallowing in my misery. I heard something fluttering about in the wind so I put my face in my chin and looked up to see what it was. I smiled despite my mood; it was a paper airplane. I watched it as it rode the breeze lazily and landed at my feet.

  I nudged it with my toe.

  For something that had glided so gently, it seemed a little heavier than what I would think a normal paper airplane would feel like.

  Clearing my throat, I leaned down and picked it up and small, black drawstring bag fell out of it. I eyed it cautiously for a moment. This could not have been an ordinary piece of paper to be able to carry that little bag in it and how exactly did it get this far up anyway? I refused to go near the window to shut it, instead I reached down for the airplane and unfolded it to see what it was made of to make a journey this high up harboring that bag.

  If I had blood, I’m sure it would’ve run ice cold at that very moment.

  I knew that handwriting so very well and the message that was written inside gave me the same feeling of being falsely loved and taunted at the same time.

  The words were written like a murderous nursery rhyme:

  He gave you a gift but mine is more true.

  I cut around the flesh so tender and young to get this for you.

  I know how much you’ ve always wanted to see through two eyes.

  Here’s the little boy’s gift to you on the night that he died.

  -L.

  My body was shaking so hard that I could no longer feel the difference between the night chill and the fear that was running through me. I stared at the bag and let the letter fall from my hands. Was she still out there? Was it even her that sent this at all or was it another one of her creations that she had hid so well?

  My breath became labored as I thought of what the note said: He gave you a gift. Only one little boy had given me a gift and my heart, the pieces that were human, were aching as I reached for the bag.

  I opened it slowly and shook it gently into my hand.

  Another smaller, clear bag fell out.

  My knees buckled underneath me as I realized what I was holding.

  In my selfish moments I had always begged London for the gift of two eyes. I always wanted to be able to see the world out of both sides not just one. And here, she had finally granted my request out of venomous hate and deranged love.

  I forced myself to my feet. On my way to the mirror, I grabbed the cog that had fallen out of my arm. I wasn’t going to let Jared’s last precious gift to me before London took his life go to waste and with as ill as I felt at the moment over what I knew needed to be done. I stood in front of my reflection and slid his golden brown eye into my empty socket and wedged it into place with the cog. I took a deep breath and stared at myself as the small wheel disappeared behind it. I blinked a couple of times and suddenly the world started to come into place as I had never seen it before.

  Silently I thanked Jared for the gift he had been tortured for and placed the eye patch he had given me over the side of the mirror. It would always be there when I looked at it and I would always think of him whenever I could bear to bring myself to look in the mirror again.

  A thought had occurred to me as I turned away.

  I had to find Morrison as soon as possible because if London was killing everyone that had done me kindness, she would be next. Grabbing my jacket, I ran out of my room and started down the flight of stairs. As I passed the elusive second floor that I never had time for I heard the sound of something dragging and echoing dully throughout.

  I stopped at the stairway entrance and squinted into the darkness. Now that I had the precious gift of two eyes, it would take less time for me to adjust to seeing in the dark.

  I took a tentative step into the room and the dragging came to a halt. I wasn’t afraid as I thought I would be. I think it was because I was still feeling grief for Jared and anger for what London had done to him.

  In the room I heard something snap and heard a set of footsteps run out of the room and make their way down the last flight of stairs. I ran over to the window to see if I could catch a glimpse of who had just been in my home but whomever it was had been faster than me. I never saw them nor did I honestly care at the moment, I was more curious about the sound that I heard before they left.

  How are there no lights in this damned—Oh. There it is, I thought as I ran my hands along the side of the wall.

  With the flip of the switch the entire room became illuminated and I gasped.

  Somehow this room seemed to have stayed intact regardless of the fire Morrison had told me about. There were the faceless dolls sprinkled t
hroughout, some with clothes others partially dressed, and only a hand full had nothing more than a measuring tape draped around them. The machines here looked brand-new. There were boxes of sewing tools around the room and new spools and pieces of cloth that had yet to have been touched.

  I smiled as I walked across the room looking at everything in wonder. I had thoughts of moving my cot down to the second door as I ran my fingers along the tables; I just felt that it would all seem so much safer here.

  For a moment I had forgotten what had brought me into this room until I heard a noise in the darkest corner of the room. Close to the door on the other side I heard a cranking sound. I stopped walking and craned my neck to see if I would be able to make it out from where I was, but I knew I would have to get closer to be able to see it.

  Swallowing hard, I walked a little closer as the cranking sound intensified. As it came into view I saw a small box and with a handle on the side going in a circle by itself. It seemed to be emitting a melody. I took a step closer and grit my teeth.

  I knew exactly what song that was but I refused to let it strike fear in me. It had caused me enough sleepless nights before.

  I stepped closer still.

  The cranking went faster and faster until finally the top popped open and a small clown with big evil eyes and a wide toothy grin popped out attached to some accordion looking apparatus. Curiosity took over me. I noticed something was hanging from one of its hands. It looked almost like human hair with skin still attached to it.

  Almost like a scalp.

  I took a deep breath and made my way quickly to the box and lifted the clown into the light. The hair fell from its hand and 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.