Frozen
Solemn footsteps echoed through the hallway as a tall figure with bright, emerald eyes made his way down to the lower levels of the manor. Down to the labs. The vaults. For resting down there was a person he cared about dearly. A woman. His sister.
It had been a tragedy. Nothing more, nothing less. The day that they had gotten the call from the hospital.
“She jumped.” They’d said. And a wave of shock, of sheer horror had spread through the manor. All color had seemed to drain from the world. All joy. He himself had made his way to the hospital to retrieve her. It wasn’t procedure. They should have called the morgue. An undertaker. But Mr. Walter had said no. Had made his instructions clear.
“Bring her home.” He’d said. And The Spine had been more than happy to comply. This couldn’t be the end. There had to be some way. And from what Mr. Walter had said, he seemed to be of the same opinion.
So, he’d brought her home. Her body mangled. Bruised. His experience as a medic came in handy when he’d worked on putting her bones back in the right places. When he’d cleaned her up and dressed her in one of her white, lacey dresses. And then, he’d been told to put her in a vault. A vault that could reach subzero temperatures. To preserve her body, he’d been told.
And so, he’d done as requested. Brought her to the vault, watching through a window as the temperature was lowered, and her skin was being covered with small, shimmering crystals. And she was left there. Frozen solid. Looking like she was but asleep. But the reality of it was far more grim.
He came down to the vault every day. He wasn’t sure why. And he would merely look at her. Waiting for some sort of news.
This day, he wasn’t alone. A far taller being, wearing a top hat would be standing there. Looking in at the frozen figure. The automaton paused next to him, steam coiling from his black lips as they parted. “Any news, Baron?” He’d ask, baritone voice low. The taller being would let out a deep hum, smoke seeping between his teeth from his ever-lit cigar. “Not yet. I’ve launched a search for ‘er soul. I’ll bring it back. Just... Keep ‘er like this. As long as ‘er body is this well preserved, I can put the soul back and heal the rest of the body.” He spoke, slowly turning those red-brown eyes towards the automaton.
“Ain’t ‘er time yet. It ain’t ‘er time yet.” He’d mumble, a frown on that painted face of his. “I’ll find ‘er, Metal Man. I promise.” He spoke, before his body slowly started to dissolve into black smoke. He needed to search for her. He needed to brig her back. No matter what.
The Spine would briefly watch the Lwa vanish, before he reached out to place a hand against the glass. That smooth, unbelievably cold barrier between him and the contents of the vault.
“Hold on, ‘Lyssa. Wherever you are. Hold on. We’ll bring you home.”