Stitchpunk's Story: Part One

Part One: This is You

"Hello? Is-is there someone there? Could you please tell me where I am?"

The giant woman looks terrified, her big blue eyes darting all over the cold, grey place that was yet to be her new home. She does not know this yet, no doubt. We all hide, wondering and watching.
I don't envy this giant woman at all. In fact, I empathise with her. Pity her even. And she's the first one I will ever pity...
Why? Because I've been in her shoes before.

***

Most people don't have any memories of the day they were born. I do. It's not exactly the best memory for a first ever one, especially as it's your first. But I have mine...

Because I'm not most people. In fact, I'm not even people. I'm a creature. What kind of creature, I don't know; my kind doesn't really have a name (you may think that we are called Frankensteins...but that is the scientist, not the creature). All I know is I was created, not born, which means I have a purpose. People are born because they are born. Things and creatures are created to serve a purpose.
I am a thing...a creature...or, as I'm always referred to nowadays...a monster. It doesn't bother me...not any more anyway.

I can remember coming into this world, opening my eyes for the first time. All I saw at first was white...burning white. I squinted so my eyes could adjust slowly until I could see beyond the white. There was someone standing away from me, a look on his face which suggested a mixture of shock and joy. I didn't know how to react. How could I? I wasn't even a minute old. But I knew that I was confused, helpless and very, very afraid.

Suddenly the person spoke. It was a man's voice. "She-she lives...she lives!"

I can remember my creator (or Dad, if you will). He was rather old, and British, wearing spectacles and a white lab coat. Dad approached me with caution. He then spoke again. "Please. Don't be frightened...I'm not going to hurt you." He looked at my frightened expression as I lay helpless and confused. I didn't know what to do.
"Perhaps, you can try and...sit up?"
I stared blankly at him, relaxing slowly as I began to realise that he indeed meant no harm. He sat down on a nearby chair and waited patiently for my response.
I remember the slow, cautious struggle of trying to sit up for the first time. My arms, my hands, my legs...they were all a curious fascination to me. I then began to take in my surroundings. A laboratory, with so much machinery and chemicals everywhere. Next to me, a giant machine that I was previously clipped up to. It was dark, except for the white light burning above me.

Dad carefully stepped towards me and unhooked me from the machine. He then held out his hand. I flinched in naive fright. The man said coaxingly "Take it...I want to show you something."

I hesitated, suspicious. Slowly, my hand begun to reach out and touched his. He took it and gently helped me to my feet. He guided me, as I took my first ever steps towards something covered by a cloth. He then slowly moved away from me. I wobbled and nearly toppled over in all directions. But once I stood on my own, the man removes the cloth, revealing a mirror.

"Look...this is you. What you look like."
I toppled over in terror as this strange thing fell over also. The man laughed lightly as I sat up and looked at this being, which has also sat up. I reached over to touch it; the strange being did likewise. It was my reflection. My torso is wrapped in bandages and a cloth, and my body, greenish and pale in colour, was covered in stitches. I reached up to my neck to feel two large metal bolts sticking out on both sides, and my dark brown hair, which was long and curly. I looked at my eyes to see that they're both different shades of green; one dark, gentle and olive, the other shockingly bright and toxic. I looked back at my father. I cannot remember or see what colour his eyes were due to the dark but I knew they were the same. He smiled back at me.
"Yes. It's you."

***

The first half of my life shall be summarised in a nutshell, as every detail is not very important nor interesting. Like anyone, I had learnt to walk, talk, run etc etc. I had also learnt how to sew; mainly in case if any of my limbs fell off so I always carried a needle and thread with me wherever I was, but I also applied these skills to make and customise my own clothes. Basically, I was learning almost all the time, mainly because I was never allowed to leave the house and I had access to so many books, fiction and non-fiction. I do love reading but what I had fallen in love with most of all was drawing. I can remember the first time I picked up a pencil and dragged it crudely across a piece of paper. I would spend hours scribbling and drawing anything I could on any bit of scrap paper I could find until one day, Dad came home with something under his coat. He smiled as he held out to me two sets of pencils (one sketching, one coloured), an eraser, a sharpener, a set of pens and a brand new sketchbook. That was one of the happiest days of my life. Later on, I progressed to painting and fell in love with that, too. Basically, I was happiest when painting or drawing.

However, what I am about to tell you next is the day that changed my life forever.

I was technically about ten years old. It was a quiet day. Dad was in his laboratory, as usual. I was upstairs, working on a surprise for my creator's upcoming birthday: a portrait. I could hear him coughing loudly, even from my room. He had been off colour for some time now but every time I bought up the matter, he would smile and straighten up, as if nothing was wrong. The coughing grew louder and louder. Concerned of a choking fit, I rushed downstairs to fetch him some water. By the time I reached the tap, the coughing had stopped. Carrying the water, I walked down the stairs...to find my creator had collapsed on the floor.

Confused and panicking, I dropped the water and rushed to his side.
"Dad? Dad?"
I felt for his pulse, his heart...there was nothing, except for a small helpless thump. He was pale and colder than metal. His eyes were closed. His chest was not moving. I didn't know what to do. I had only known the limits of the house and had no idea what lay beyond. But I had to do something. I raced up the stairs, down the hall, opened the door and...

For the first time ever, I saw the world. Little did I know it would also be my last time for another ten years.

It was cloudy and very breezy, the trees beginning to brown as autumn took over from summer, and the sky beginning to grow darker as evening approached. There were a few people about on the street. Three boys, playing football on the streets. They were the first living beings, apart from my creator, I had ever laid eyes one. Desperate and naive, I rushed over and gabbled. "You have to help me! My dad! He's...he's fallen, and he's not breathing! I don't know what to do!"
"Why are you wearing a Halloween costume?" The smallest boy asked curiously. The other two boys just stared, with a hint of amusement and bafflement in their eyes.
"Halloween?" I blinked, confused.  "It's not Halloween for another few weeks, if I'm correct. And this-this isn't a costume."
One of the other boys scoffed. "Don't listen to her, Joshua. She's just pulling your leg."
"I can assure you I'm not. Look." Calmly, I unpicked the stitches at my knee and my lower leg came completely off. My unattached leg flailed slightly in the air.
"See? Now that's pulling someone's leg."
They stared for a few deafeningly silent seconds before screaming and running to a nearby house crying "MUUUUUUUM!"

"Wait! Come back! I still need help!" I was very confused. Why did they run at the sight of my detached leg? My creator never flinched at the sight. Surely they had seen someone like me before...
As I sat down to stitch my leg back on, the door opened again, to reveal a woman with the three boys.
"Now just what do you think you're doing, frightening my boys at this...?" She stopped as she saw me, revealing my half stitched on leg. She blanched terribly.
I quickly stood up, my leg feeling numb from its gradual reattachment. "Please, could you help me? My father is in..."
She screamed before I could continue.
"Please, Ma'am! Listen to me!" I began to run towards them but she stepped back.
"Don't you dare come any closer, you...you monster! I'll call the police!"

People were starting to come out of their house to see the commotion. As they got closer, they began to see me for who I really was and ran back screaming to their houses. Some of them even started to babble loudly down their phones. Little did I know what one of them was calling.
"No, please! You don't understand!" I tried to yell above the voices. Why were they so afraid of me?

"Get me the Government!" Someone cried down their phone.
"Wait, stop! I need your help!" I cried. But people were fleeing back to their houses. Fine. So be it. If no one was going to help me here, I would find help elsewhere. So I ran.

I kept running. I pleaded to people who passed me but they screamed or shrugged me off or even fainted. I didn't understand why at the time so I just kept trying. I gradually got closer and closer to more buildings, lights, hundreds of more people...the city. London, to be precise. It was amazing and terrifying all at the same time...

The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. I often heard them from my window, meaning there was a criminal or a victim. Only these were getting closer...closer.
Suddenly, vehicles of all sorts swarmed from nowhere and figures in black jumped out, armed.
"There she is! We've found her! I repeat we found her!"
Panicked, I leapt onto a nearby jeep, hurdled over it and jumped. I did not achieve the smooth landing that I had envisioned but I had just enough time to get up and run. I could hear them following me from nearby. I kept running until I reached a dead end...that is a large metal tower with a sign that read:

DANGER! HIGH VOLTAGE

Desperate to escape, and unaware of the dangers of electricity, I began to climb.

I could hear the vehicles swarmed all around me. One of the men cried out, "What is she doing?! That hasn't even fazed her!"
I did not understand what he meant at the time. But now, I fully understand why that high voltage tower had no negative effects on me. In fact, it benefitted me greatly.

I can still remember the ticklish feeling I got when I first touched that tower. The further I climbed the more revitalising, energising...empowering it felt.

I felt myself climbing faster and faster, so fast I began to lose control and I slipped and I had to quickly grab onto the railing of the tower.

Suddenly, I heard a faint whistle and something went thunk into my leg. I looked down to find a tranquiliser dart in my leg...