Chapter Text
ACT I: ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE FUTURE
+=+=+
The cold winds of the coming night blasted across her body which had already been torched by the sun. At least, the parts of her body that still had a proper sense of touch. She could barely feel her right thigh over the seizing pain of exposed, crossing wires. She couldn’t feel anything past the halfway mark, partially due to there being nothing left.
Her vision, glazed over in the center and blacking out at the edges, caught the last rays of sunlight flying over her shoulders and illuminating the bulbous peaks of the arid mountains ahead.
Shadows then danced across the mountains as two figures walked out from behind her. They were dressed in black-and-red, hooded ponchos that hid most of any distinguishing details, though one of them was quite tall while the other was quite short, maybe half the other’s height if generous.
Their voices echoed across the wasteland, bombarding her still-ringing ears.
“This should do,” the shorter one said, her young-sounding voice tinged with urgency.
“Aight. Just give me a second,” the taller one replied, her voice much deeper and more casual.
The tall one squatted down to meet the fading gaze of her captive. Her poncho lifted in the wind to expose her disproportionately massive, mechanical right arm. Long, straight black hair spilled from the shadows of her hood.
A pair of red, glowing eyes beamed out between her bangs. “My, my, my. Look at yourself.” She chuffed. “You look horrible. What the others at home would’ve paid to see you like this even before your little stunt. Questioning orders is one thing, turning your back on us is another thing, and then there’s whatever-the-hell you just attempted! I’m almost jealous-!”
“Hurry up. The ELIDs are coming,” the short one cut in.
The tall one twisted in place to face her, raising her arms in bewilderment. “…So? That’s good. That’s why we’re here, right? This is what you want.”
“I didn’t want you to monologue.”
“Mee-mee-mee-mee-mee,” she mocked her. “Be more specific next time. Besides, she’s our friend-”
“She’s your friend.” The short one huffed. She began jogging into the distance, abandoning her partner.
The tall one waved a dismissive hand. She returned forward, sighing at eye contact. She stared for a while, as if deep in contemplation. Her left hand then started to sift around for something hidden in the poncho. “…I hate killing like this, but it’s better you go out this way than what’s going to happen.” She drew a large, mechanical handgun. She aimed it right at the forehead. “If there’s a Hell for us, good luck.”
BANG!
Headshot.
Darkness.
Oblivion.
+=+=+
It was the only memory she, the amnesiac doll, had when she woke up the next morning. The hot winds of the coming day blasted across her body which had been frozen cold by the moon. She looked down at herself, the servos in her spine screaming. She was covered in dents, gashes, and dust, ruining her silicon skin and exposing her fraying internals. Wires and metal bones dangled out, becoming contaminated with dirt, pebbles, and bits of gray grass. Her head rang constantly, whatever was in her ears now bleeding through the rest of her body. She felt like she had been trampled all over for hours, if she could even recognize such a feeling anymore.
Her vision was worse now than in her hazy memory. She couldn’t recognize the area anymore, if she even was still in the same place. Looking around, all she saw was harsh desert, consisting of cacti, bushes, and transmission towers. The only break in the rolling barrens was those mountains ahead of her again.
Her internals were dry and overheating. Her power was rapidly depleting from slim to none. Her body screamed with mechanical agony whenever she tried to move. Attempting to just crawl forward, with only her right arm and left leg able to carry any sort of weight, was torture as her tearing body was further slashed by the dirt road beneath her.
However, she didn’t want to die. She had no clue about anything regarding herself, her mind a muddled mire, but some remaining instinct of her former self shone through: Preserve oneself by any means necessary. It made her feel terrible, but it was something. It wasn’t oblivion. There was surely something she once had or could get that was worth fighting to stay alive.
So, the doll crawled on along the dirt path into the mountains. Perhaps she could find shelter, water, power, anything. It was absurdly unlikely, but there was no other option. She had to rely on the unknown, a concept that caused her body to tremble with… maybe disgust.
Whatever dirty rags for clothes she had left tore above the rocks, not that any naughty bits were still attached to her withering body to hide. Vultures spiraling above swooped down and pecked at these rags, only to grunt when nothing was found. They became bold enough to peck at the doll herself but were equally disappointed. The doll couldn’t afford the processing power to pay mind to them.
Her pace was so slow, that she couldn’t be pleasantly surprised by anything. The mountains extremely slowly panned around her, a seamless sea of desert from every angle. A marker, too rusted for anything to be read on it, became burnt into her crumbled psyche as it stood in view for an hour.
After she crossed over a hill that felt like a mountain, she collapsed from exhaustion. Her black, wavy hair clung to her face. She panted in the dust on the road directly beneath, causing her to violently choke and wheeze. She panicked. It wasn’t the heat, or the cold, or the vultures, or the sharp rocks that would kill her, but the dust in her lungs! With a sudden burst of strength, she flopped over onto her back. She pounded her chest until she had exerted every ounce of power she didn’t realize she had in her.
She laid there for an incalculable time, gasping at the blank, blue sky above. Within a day, most likely, but perhaps her senses failed her for a time and/or her mind blanked, allowing for a night or several to pass without her realizing it. She trembled at that prospect, that teetering back and forth between existing and ceasing.
She was supposed to be dead by now. That moment was absolutely an execution. She didn’t have a clue what she did. Was it horrible, or justified? Was it logical, or impulsive? …Should she be dead? Her teeth bared together.
“I want to live,” she hissed. Tears welled up in her eyes. Anger flashed through her as she felt dampness run down her cheeks when it should be keeping her internal parts cool. However, she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop herself from whimpering, “I… don’t want to die…”
She came to her senses as the rumbling of an engine echoed through the mountains. No, several engines. And they were getting louder – closer. Truck bellows mixed with motorcycle chops. The doll lifted her head, trying to pinpoint the direction of the source.
And then she heard… up-tempo guitar?
VROOM!
An armored pickup truck soared over the hill and the doll’s head. Attached to it was a trailer bed covered in a cloth tent like it were a stage wagon. The doll covered her face. The truck slammed down on the road just beyond her body, but then the safety chains dangling between the truck and trailer fell around the doll’s neck.
SNAP!
The doll couldn’t even let out a cough before flying from her laying spot and being dragged across the road at high speed. She flailed around, but soon found something to grab onto. With her one good arm and one bad arm, she struggled up the chains and climbed into the gap between the truck and trailer. Massive dust clouds were kicked up by the wheels, just missing her gasping mouth.
VROOM! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Gunfire echoed from all sides. Bullets tore through the blinding dust. Both were followed by…
“YEEHAW!”
The amnesiac doll flung herself against the truck’s tailgate. The vehicle was surrounded by other armored trucks, jeeps, motorcycles, and muscle cars. Dolls, each armed with a gun, were firing at each other from inside or on top of the vehicles. The barren wasteland instantly turned into a raging warzone. To her left, a muscle car driven by a small doll with pink hair rammed into the back of a jeep driven by a doll with messy twintails and a bandana mask. The passenger of the car, a girl with a brunette ponytail and armed with a CM901 assault rifle, traded bullets with a black-haired doll firing a Bren machine gun mounted on the back of the jeep.
The amnesiac shook her head. She could instantly recognize guns?
A pair of boots stomped into the truck bed behind her. The amnesiac spun around and saw a tall doll in black-and-white cowboy garments wielding a Colt Walker revolver. The purple flower in her hat made her stand out amid the chaos like a beacon.
“Make these buzzards regret messing with us today!” she howled with a proud chin before firing at the semi-truck tailing the trailer.
“Affirmative!” a blonde doll in black leather replied on the roof of the trailer cover, currently amid a fistfight against a redhead with shark teeth. Both had articulating shields attached to their spines that allowed them to keep balance against the raging winds.
“You think you can just go shopping in the big city without giving us a look at whatcha got?” the redhead taunted.
“No.”
“Come on, let’s at least talk about it.”
“Talk to the hand!” the blonde retorted before socking her opponent in the jaw.
As they scuffled, sitting at the edge of the covering, a doll in a sombrero with an FX-05 assault rifle strapped to her back was playing an acoustic guitar like there wasn’t a battle going on all around her. Well, she was playing like there was a battle going on, as she was providing the rather fitting music.
BANG!
The amnesiac ducked down as a shotgun blast tore right past her face into the wooden walls of the impromptu wagon. Out of the sunlight, a doll soared down with metal shields being used as wings. She swooped around the towing truck, dodging bullets and returning fire with her M1014 Benelli shotgun. She kicked off the semi-truck and dove for the trailer. The guitarist instantly jumped to her feet. She held her guitar off to the side with one hand, lifted her assault rifle with the other, and unloaded into the flyer. The flyer shielded some bullets with her wings, dodged some others, and tanked the rest. She closed the gap, but then the guitarist smacked her away with the guitar.
THUNK!
“Going down!” the flyer screamed in terror before crashing into the passing mountainside.
“HYAAAH!” the guitarist cheered before returning to her music, now rocking her hips as she played standing tall.
The amnesiac’s face scrunched. What kind of cartoon madness was she even looking at anymore? Why did it disgust her so much?
BANG!
The nearby whiz of a pistol round returned her to survival mode. She scampered beneath the flapping cloth into the trailer. It offered a slight reprieve from the madness. Stray bullets occasionally tore through the cloth, but it was cover nonetheless. The amnesiac was met with a tall pile of crates. One of the open ones revealed them to contain a slew of pristine firearms and ammunition, surely the prize of this battle.
On the other side of the pile, nestled in an impromptu parlor made of the boxes, sat a nobly-dressed, little doll. She peacefully drank from a teacup, easily doing her part of keeping the goods secure-
THUNK!
A heavy body hitting the rear rocked the trailer, nearly causing the little doll to spill her tea on her dress. She screamed in panic. Whatever hit them slowly climbed over the tailgate: a larger doll with white, curly hair and red eyes. She panted with a wide, goofy smile as she looked inside.
“Aha! Nailed it!” she cheered.
“Get out!” the little doll shouted. Still holding her teacup and tea plate, she kicked the intruder in the face.
“Ow! Hey! Stop it!” The intruder whipped her face around the otherwise ineffectual kicks, unable to retaliate as she was dangling from the other side.
“Begone, you revolting, rotund ruffian.”
“Wait, what was that middle one-?!”
SOCK!
“-Goh!” With a final kick, the rotund doll was sent tumbling back.
However, as she was falling, she grabbed a nearby rope. She bounced off the dirt road, tumbled back a bit, then got upright. She jumped up. The shields hung at her hips swung beneath her feet to act as skis. She landed and continued to give chase.
“Aha! You thought you could get rid of me that easily?!” she boasted from the distance. “I’m going to climb back to you and demand an apology out of you, for I am the almighty- Uh-gu-gu-gu-gu-gu…!” The dirt road became littered with rocks that bounced around the ill-prepared skier.
BOOM!
A fiery explosion blew out a corner of the trailer. The truck and trailer combo fishtailed wildly, throwing the amnesiac doll through the hole. She grabbed a burning shred of cloth still attached. Her body banged and flapped against the exterior side, still hidden from view via the dust cloud.
A blonde doll with fluorescent highlights was riding a motorcycle on this side of the road. While she held an A-91 assault rifle with a smoking underbarrel launcher in one hand, the other hand was crazily waving around on the steering. She was drunkenly screaming something incomprehensible to the amnesiac. Was it… Russian?
As the chase went over a bridge, another motorbike drifted out from underneath, driven by a black-and-blue-haired doll. The newcomer smashed against the grenadier’s side. She drew a knife from her hip and swung it. The grenadier dodged the first swings. She locked their steering together so that she could free her hand and grab a knife of her own from her leather boots. The two clashed blades with equal skill and suicidal madness.
“We meet again, my most prized prey,” the newcomer bantered.
As the truck and trailer stabilized, the rotund skier was still holding on. The little doll inside the wagon produced a Webley revolver and shot out her tether. At the same time, the redhead fighting on the roof was flung off. The two invaders collided and tumbled into the dirt. The semi-truck swerved around them, then charged forward into the trailer.
CRASH!
The connection between the pickup truck and trailer loudly squeaked and scraped. However, the cowgirl at the front remained tall and confident. She strode onto the cab roof and stomped her foot.
“We got ‘em all off!” she yelled. “Prepare the nitrous!”
The semi rammed into the trailer again.
CRASH!
The safety chains slid out from under the trailer and were crushed by the semi’s hardened wheels.
“Ready!” a voice yelled inside the truck cab.
“Hold it!” the boss ordered.
CRASH!
The semi reared back, making distance for one final ramming to dislodge. The cowgirl’s eyes lit up. This was the moment she was waiting for.
"Brake!”
The truck and trailer screeched as their wheels locked and ground into the dirt.
CRASH!
The trailer smashed into the semi instead. A plume of fire and smoke erupted from the rear vehicle’s engine. Any power it had was lost.
“Now punch it!” the boss ordered.
Nitrogen steam erupted from the truck’s underbelly before it then blasted forward at double- no, triple speed! The front lifted, threatening to lift off like a jet if it weren’t for the trailer weighing everything down.
The amnesiac tried to keep holding on, but the wild speed was too much. She lost her grip. She hurdled through the air before smashing into the road. She became buried in a permeating cloud of dust. She covered her nose and mouth, but more than enough pollutants slashed into her lungs and made her a wheezing mess.
The other vehicles split away from each other. Half of them raced ahead with their own nitrous boosters and formed a defensive convoy behind the trailer. The other half were forced to return to their flagship vehicle, unable to keep up even if they wanted to. The amnesiac couldn’t move. She could only curl into a fetal position and hope the cars didn’t hit her. They buried her in more dust clouds, but that may’ve been to her benefit. She doubted they’d be friendly with her, and she’d rather stay unseen even if they were. These dolls were lunatics – whack jobs – outright caricatures.
However, she then realized that she was also hidden from the at least 18-ton semi-truck that was still barreling toward her at high momentum and speed.
“Aw, crap-”
BANG!
+=+=+
The amnesiac doll, who should’ve died at least twice over by now, woke back up underneath a vehicle. It wasn’t the semi-truck, but another pickup truck that she may’ve glimpsed tailing behind it.
“Have you found what you hit yet?” one of the dolls called out in the distance.
“No,” another replied. “Sounded bad, though. I really hope it wasn’t an animal!”
“At least it wasn’t me,” a third doll that sounded like the rotund skier remarked.
The amnesiac’s survival instincts urged her to keep moving on, if just for a few feet. She crawled out from under the truck. She noticed that this one had an enclosed bed with the tailgate open. She climbed and crawled inside. She didn’t know where this group was going, but anywhere was certainly better than the desert that currently surrounded her. She shuffled herself behind some boxes and canisters of gasoline inside.
“Might’ve just been a big rock or debris.”
“Hopefully.”
“Let’s just head back home. We’ll get a better look at the dent in the shop.”
The toolbox could be heard clattering as it was tossed at the amnesiac’s foot. The tailgate was then slammed shut, casting the doll into darkness. Engines roared all around before she finally felt movement. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Tiredness washed over her. She didn’t want to close her eyes, fearing that her body would finally give out without her mind being active, but she hardly had a choice. With just a couple of blinks, she passed out cold. The vibrations kept her asleep throughout the long, long ride to wherever “home” was.