Argentum City

((Damn is my new sworn enemy. ))

(omg... i just made a whole huge part of the story and i sent it but i didn't appear T.T)

((Eek!))

(ok ill remake it...T.T)

(Always remember to copy the paragraph(s) into Word or Notebook before hitting send.)

"I must escape, i must escape, i must escape, i must escape" was all that was running through the grimy little girls mind as she was desperately winding through the many garbage cans of the dark alley. Behind her was a clumpy man panting as he took a step. She could almost feel his breath on her neck. She pumped up the speed and ran with the same words running through her mind" i must escape i must escape i must escape i mus-AHH". A pot hole stopped her dead in her tracks and she fell to the floor with a thud. She saw the man approach closer and closer until she closed her eyes and let out a scream. She interrupted half breath by another yelp and the sounds of crushed branches. She opened one eye thinking the branches were fro her body. Instead she saw a steel cube laying there instead of the man. She scanned the area and not a trace of him? " Could he be an imaginary friend?" she pondered to herself, remembering what her mom once told her. A shout disrupted her train of thought and she looked up and saw a young women shouting at herself...

(i redid it in a rush sorry for the grammatical errors and typos)

The two men relinquished their delivery with little speech. As the door slammed shut they turned and silently walked back towards the carriage and resumed their places. The clip-clop resumed and they were soon out of sight.
Once the coffin was inside, the black sheen disappeared and you could see that the coffin was quite old, and very weathered looking, as if it had survived a century or more. The woman inside was petite, with very long silver hair and antiquated clothes. Though she must've been inside for a century or more, she was preserved perfectly, as if she were merely sleeping. There were many strange things about this corpse. The first thing being that her eyes were wide open. Usually a corpses eyes were pressed shut at death. Her open staring eyes were a dull yellow color, devoid of life. The second oddity about this corpse was the fact that her hands were down at her sides, rather than crossed over her chest as was custom. At least for the style of coffin she was in. The third and most disturbing was the fact that the girl's shirt was unbuttoned well past being modest down to the top of her waist cincher. Though instead of bare flesh, all that could be seen was an intricate brass design in the shape of a heart that seemed to be grafted to the skin itself. Beneath the heart gears could be seen, though they were unmoving. At the heart's center was a keyhole occupied by a gold key. It stuck out oddly from the center of her chest.

On top of floating piece of metal, the little girl saw the whole thing. She sat there only inches away from the window thinking "Why is she talking to herself?"
"Could it be an imaginary friend?"
"Mother told me never to ease drop"
"But who is she talking to?"
"Ill just ask her myself"
The little girl pulled open the window, floated her way and sat on the bed.

Tick-tick-tick-tick the ticking started out slow, and gradually became faster as the key was turned. The girl's once dim, lifeless eyes glowed with a gold light, as memory came back to her. Her mother's voice as she argued with their captors, the blackness, the name of the asylum where she was taken, all these things rushed back to Lolita. It took her a split second to analyze the situation. She was lying in some sort of box, in a strange room, with a strange man standing immodestly close, and her blouse was open when it shouldn't have been. She grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip, studying him with seemingly emotionless gold eyes. Though she was now very obviously alive, her skin was still ice cold.

Lolita released her grip, no doubt leaving a white imprint of her fingers on his wrist.
She stepped out of the coffin in as ladylike a way as she could and hastily turned around to button her blouse back up. When she turned back to face him, she was composed, even though he had hit her weak spot. Her pride in how she conducted herself. Her perfect manners. With an even tone she said "I do not lack the ability to conduct myself in any situation, sir. But I must implore you as to how I came to be in this particular situation. As of now, I am quite distrusting in the idea that your intentions were in any way honorable." Her voice was soft, but perfectly clear. Her accent was typical of aristocratic London society of her day.
Lolita still wore the tools she was supposed to have used for that assassination they stopped a century ago. The now antique crossbow was still strapped to her back, the bladed fans were still at her sides.

Her legs in a cris cross, the little girl looked upward. Staring into the eyes of the stranger she almost whispers "Hello...my name is Arlana... my mom called me Ary..."

"Dead...? wh...why would i be dead?" Ary whispered. She looked into the eyes of the stranger and said with a stronger voice " I can't... die...anyway"

Ary stared at the girl then scanned the room. No one was there. She looks again at the girl and very quietly asks " Who were you talking too?" disregarding the cover up. "Was it your imaginary friend?" not giving the girl enough time to respond.

"I have an imaginary friend too... he had a big sword... and he chased me into your bac-" she was stopped by the sound of her belly. Ary had forgotten about her hunger and her stomach made her remember. The roar could be heard from across the room.