Key The Metal Idol Fan Fiction ❯ Angel Idol ❯ Angel Idol - Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Key drew her knees to her chest and peered into the blackness that was the outside world from behind a curtain.The robot was huddled into a tight ball. She had not moved wince she saw a man grab and old woman, who pleaded for her life. The man ran her through, pinning her to the wall.
Key watched, eyes widening, as the man grabed a blade and slit her up the middle. Hastilly, he removed her lungs and heart, storeing them in tubes filled with liquid.
The Woman hung there on the wall for over three hours now. . .
She had grand children whom she supported.

A few stragglers now and then would barely flance at the corpse. One sickly old twig of a man with sparse patches of hair stopped to frisk the corpse for valuables. The grand children would never hear about her death, probably starve to death or beaten by passing gangs or bored, bloodthirsty junkies.

After a long wait the little robot girl uncurled and slowly slipped from her hovvle. The woman was pinned about a foot higher then Key could reach.
Key searched around, finally spotting a crates which she picked up, placing it near the Woman.

Stepping onto the crate, Key stood face to face with the cooling corpse. A memory blurred across her mind, of a boy, lips meeting sickly lips, The boy soon got well.

Key slowly closed her voidlike eyes, and leaned to the elderly carcass.
Lips met lips.
Key stayed like that for a few long moment before pulling away.

The Grandmother did not move.

An overpowering, sick, salty, tin foiled, rotting fish smell filled the air. The eyes removed from the head, hellish, hollow pits starred vacantly at the girl. A slack jaw, toothless nouth stunk with rot, frozen forever in an "Uh. . ."groan. Blood from the nouth newly glittered on the small robot's lips.

". . .Hello? Miss?" Key hung her head. "Key is sorry. I should have hellped. . .but. . .but I was. . .afraid. . .I appologize."

Death's silence is Key's answer. She can not yell, cry, or even scream incohenrently at Key with crazy, old lady Babble. Nor will she hear her grandchildren laugh, stiffle a cry or giggle. Nor could she wite tears away, read stories, or feed them. Now her organs were another mans treasure, to some unknown pourpos to the little robot girl.

Slowly, Key back stepped, foot falling from the crates, to the cluttered ground. Her other foot soon joined the first, and she turned from the dead body, marching back to her hole, and folding up inside it again.

Too soon the air filled with the soft pita-pata of acid rain. On the ground, a shiney mixture of water, blood and grim swirls and runs along the creviscies, debris and cobble. A new scent of decay, battery fluid and heavy chemicals filled the air.

The stinking air fills the girl's nostrils and makes her stomach churn, and she felt chilled. In an effort to warm her body, Key ran her tongue over her lips. The wet muscle froze as it tasted blood. Key was taken by a wave of light headedness and her vision blured, sparkles of light dancing across the dingey walls of her cubbie. Her eyelids felt heavy, and Key felt her body tip as vision left her compleately. She felt her body hit the ground heavily.
Silence
* * *
The hot liquid burned as it went down the tight throat
Stupid. Stupid. . .Stupid!
Clunk. The cup hit the table hard, the surroudning crud jump but did not dare make eye contact with the deadly vynal and buckle clad cyborge girl.
She brushed the hair that fell in her face as she starred at the dule image in the cup. Hollow black eyes, the dark ruby was swallowerd by colour of her 'drink'. An urge to just be swallowed by the shadows filled her, to hide away, like some sick thing.
But she had left her cloak with the Match Girl

The Cyborg did not notice the drop of her drink which escaped her cup. It oozed across the table, and upon reaching the edge, conceated to gravity, and dripped onto the floor. A passing cyborg unknowingly stepped into the puddle, leacing detailed footprints as he walked. Another gruff man bumped into Mister Footprints. Shortly, a fight broke out between the two. Bets were placed by inebriated patrons as they swarmed like flies round the fighters.
Within seconds, lithem wiery Mr Footprints was lifted and thrown acess the tavern, slamming into the wall next to the raven haired girl. As he connected with the wall, a drop of drink dripped from his bootsole, into her cup.

A lonely sip, and then meloncholey thoughts that soon followed. Indused by the alcohol droplet that experianced travle, and perhaps absorbed some wisdom by it, we do not know. A body without legs, wheels, a prosthetic, a substitute for now. Perfect arms, dancing with weaves of engraving vines and flowers,
Daisuke left.
She blamed him for the new murders. but really he was the worlds savior. Then she learned of her bloody talents of death. her mind decepted her and her name and past life-

"DAMN IT!"

The raiven haired cyborg slammed a fist to the tabletop, thuskly breaking it easyily.
The Waif girl. . .Key. . .she would not leave her mind. Her chrome hand whent to her face. She could make out the blurs that were her facem eyes and hair

'Where is your skin?"

She leaned the cool metal against her forhead.

'Did you lose it along with your name?'

Clenched eyes and a tiny whisper. "Maybe. . ?"

Why did the robot girl slip so easily into her mind? She was like little child, did she have a human brain? or was she compleatly a tin man? What an awsome creator.
Scarey. . .Terrifying.
A sadistic shiver. . .A bad feeling deep and wormy inside her.

With the breaking of the table, Mr Footprints crumpled fully to the floor. The "Winner" of the brawl raised his burley harms over his head parading about the crowd.

Tlip. A few coins on the wodden table. As the cheers rose so did the sick, dark feeling of dread inside the woman cyborg. Her metallic hand suddenly felt dead cold, her artificual glands produced a cold seat. She tried to counter with the strong liquor in her cup, but to no avail. It just caused the worms inside her to grow and quirm. A jerk. Her cheeks were so warm, but her hands- ice cold.

'You're no body guard, no friendship or family. That just causes more pain.'

The large man with his large arms paraded past her. Crimson eyes glanced at him, and his appriciated of beating someone in.
A quick flash in her minds eye: Ashen hair ripped from skull and tainted shit brown. Peirced eyes by pipes and leaking eggyolk yellow from the brain. Twisted body, twisted round and backwards. Bones died several shades of black and red, a necklace of intestines. A gapeing hole for a torso. A few cracked ribs as gate keepers. Off white liquid splattered where it pleases. Dead blue eyes, dead blue robotic eyes.
Key.

'No!'
She rose sharply, a hard dull thud followed. The winner was tripped. Then a crash as the winner falls back from the girl, his metal spine smashing into the face of Mr Footprints as the winner falls against him. Mr Footprints feels catilage in his nose split and destort, the plates of his skull cave against his brain.
His vison goes red.
Red, to black.

"Oops. Sorry"
***

The first thing Key heared, were mechanics. Gears which rotated in and through her body. The next was a strong, vibrant voice singing its heart out.
Miho.
Miho?

"Miho!"

Key's blue eyes snapped open and the girl bolted upright, which caused her companion to jump. Wide, dark eyes blinked at Key.

"Key?" The cyborg girl put a cool hand on the girls shoulder.
Key found herself laying in a messy floor bed. The cloak was at the foot of the bed. Key turned her head and looked to the cyborge. An involuntary action, instinct, reflex, Key through her arms around the silver armed girl and squoze.

A reflex and and instinct she fell back with the girl on her lap. Jey held her the girl with no emotion she was sure but then again . . .Poor Key, Slowlery her luke, chrome arms hugged the robot girl.

Key's embrace was like a death grip, one of pure fear and sorrow, o emotions locked up inside the clockwork heart of hers.
So much pain hidden, it shocked the girl cyborg. Key seemed devoid of it, but now . . .A scared child. The hug tightened and she rocked the girl in her arms, slowly.

"Shh. . .It's ok now. It's ok/ You're safe." A soft comforting voice.

"I . .. I am safe?" Key burredi her face in the cool leather and metal crook of her companions shoulder.

Key's company noded slowly, soft ebony hair brushing against Key's face and medling into the ashen hair.

"Yes. You're safe. You are at my place."

A muffled murmur. "Then. .. Key. . .safe Key. . .asks your name."

Silence.
A small shaking of shoulders. laughter! It was pleasent, like silver bells.
The girl let go and raised her head, cocking it to the side slightly. "you're laughing." Key's eyes wavered slightly in amusement.
The laughter subsided, "You just don't give up, do you?" the metallic girl gave a smile down at Key as raven hair fell slightly, in her face.

Key lowered her head. "Sometimes." Her speech is soft, conveying meloncholey and defeat without physically voicing it.
Dark brows furrow for a moment, then relax. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Because, I need to call you something. You call me Key . . ." She placed her hands in her own lap, powder blue eyes looking the cyborg over. "What happened, Ms Dark Eyes? What happend to make you so. . .scared?"

"Cautious" The warrior corrected Key. "Just cautious. I am a hunter warrior and we meet some nasty people. People hold grudges, bad stuff happens. Especially around me." Her voice dwindled sadly.

"Key is not nasty. I can't be nasty. I never got them all . . ."

"Got. . .them all?"

"Thirty thousand," Supplied Key. "to make Key human."

The cyborg offered a questioning gaze. "Thirty thousand to make you human? Why?"

"Grandfather told me. It was grandfather's and mothers dream. But Key didn't make enough." The little robot girl hung her head.
The girl then felt a cool hand atop the side of her head. "It's ok. Being a robot isn't that bad." A quiet voice.

"I died." An unconcious nuzzle to the woman's palm.

Inside, the cyborg clenched. The metallic girl's artificial heart went out to Key. The hand lowered to palm Key's cheek. "But . . .you're alive again." Her tone was slightly brighter and more hopeful.
Key's eyes shifted to look at the hand cuppering her cheek. She lifted a hand and took hold of the cyborg's wrist, moving the cyborg's arm so that the hand wrests in Key's lap. "Is this. . ." Key ran her fingers over the leather of her friend's fingerless gloves, between metal joints called knuckles, fingertips grazed along the sides of metal digits. Entwined fingers resembleing the links of a chain link fence. "what Key looks like, inside?"

The cybernetic girl raised the linked hands gently, to look at the dule fingers. Wine coloured eyes looked softly upon them. She could feel the warmth of the two hands now lam to plam. "I'm not sure. I don't really know how your creator re-made you. My skin is metal, my flesh. . .bones. . .maybe."

"Then. . you're not like Key?"

"I don't know. But it's not what's under your skin that matters. . .or so I hear." The dark haired girl's voice was soft, with a sound of internal meloncholey to it.

"WHat we hear and what we beleive are often two very differnt things." Key lifted her eyes to the metallic lady, letting a slow blink of her pale lids to dance across her exotic eyes.

Key received a slow, agreeing nod. It was very true, and the cyborge knew it.

"Too many have died fighting for both. . ."

Key lowered her eyes, looking at the linked hands. "Ms Dark Eyes?"

"Yes?"

"I don't think I like this world."

A cold pit fell inside the cyborg. The Scrapyard, stupid Scrapyard! How could she continue to call it home?!

"Me neither." Her voice silently cracked.

The pale blue eyes of Key upturned to the woman once again. She lifted ahand, gently brushing her fingers through her friend's thick bangs. Pale indigo eyes met dark wine ones. "Key is sorry for what this world has done to you."

Crimson eyes blinked away the wetness that had unconcously gathered in them. How could such a frail doll give sympathy for such tainted hands?

"It's alright" The cyborg's voice was quiet. "It's not your fault."

"I know. But all this place seems to do is grind people into the dirt." Truer words were never spoken, save for once.

The words hit deep. Rememberance. A flash of deja-vu. Hugo.

"We . . .We have to rise above it." The girl cyborg did not sound like she beleived her own words. 'Only to be shot down.'

"Then why bother to try?"

"Instinct."

Key gave a nod. It was true enough.

A silent, solomn pause fell over them.

"you should rest." The woman quietly spoke. "You were out cold when I found you."

Key nodded in compliance. "Will you be near?"

Key's companion wondered to herself. Did she really have anywhere to go? Aside from bounty hunting, eating, drinking and sleeping, not particularly. The woman gave a nod. "If you need me."

Again, Key nodded, her fingers gripping those of her aquaintances a slight. "Key. . .Doesn't want to be alone in this world. Ms Dark Eyes will stay with Key?"

To be alone. The world would eat you up in a minut if you dare show life. But together, a pair could stand a chance. Then, you would have just one weakness. The cyborg looked at the desperate, frightened look of the girl, the wide eyes, so pleading, to not be alone; for the warrior to keep her company. Silently, the nameless cyborg told herself 'Just for a while. Just for a while.'

She nodded. "Yes, I'll be here, right beside you, Key. And if you need anything, just ask." The dark haired girl put a cool, metal hand over the locked pair of fingers. A small smile was offered on her lips.

The innocent looking girl's pupils dialated slightly,followed by a slight quirk of her lips. "Thank you. Key will rest now."
Obediantly, Key leaned back into the bed, her hand still sandwiched between those of the 'Angel's'

The cyborg gave an 'you're welcome' nod. "Sweet dreams."

The woman removed the hand that rested upon the linked hands, to pull the covers up, comfortably on the thin girls chest. Suck an innocent little doll lieing there. Pale porciline like skin; soft from what little her chrome skin told her. She replaced the hand to compleate the sandwich. God, she could so easily break her. She could not do that. No. She promised herself no more feeling. No more loss.
Like a robot. Compleatly cold. But she was not a robot, she had a human brain. A brain, not a heart. Key- she was a robot, yet she felt. Key cared for her 'Savior'.

The cyborg exhaled, and unconciously, her hand gave the small, flesh covered hands a squeeze.

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