All of the World (ARCHIVED & LESS BAD)

Part Three

The next morning, Frances headed to the Dieselworks once again, and was confused to see the shed door open. When he got closer, he noticed the heavily scratched interior, and many dents in the metal. He put on his mental detective outfit and began searching the interior, cringing when his hand touched the grating metal.

The underside of the bed revealed a small scrap of paper. It was covered in surprisingly clean handwriting, which read, 'Come pick me up at the clay pits, best friend :)' Frances laughed a little, happy to be considerate someone else's best friend.

The clay pits were pretty far, so Frances needed a good excuse to go in that direction. Luckily, The Fat Controller has asked him to deliver some more coal to Brendam, which was fairly close to the pits. When he had delivered the coal, and listened to some of Salty's stories, he headed down the Brendam line to the clay pits.

Bill and Ben were nowhere too be seen when he arrived, thankfully. He searched the main area carefully, but saw nothing to indicate his friend's whereabouts. After three hours, sweating buckets and deeply tanned, Frances noticed an abandoned track leading through two narrow cliffs. Encouraged by the clue, he started walking down it.

It widened out after a while, with several dead bushes, one rickety wooden shed, and two small figures working at a lock. They were mumbling to each other as they worked, the shorter one seemingly doing most of the work.

"Has anything worked yet?" He asked, and the two whirled around in almost perfect synchrony. "Oh, it's just you. Come over here, would 'ya? Splatter's almost got it." Said the lighter-haired one, who Frances identified as Dodge. He'd seen the twins working around the Scrapyard a couple of times. Very creepy.

Splatter was holding a small lockpick in one hand, jiggling it furiously in the keyhole. "Remind me why exactly you can't use Pinchy to break out?" Splatter asked, exasperated. "Because this is good practice." A familiar voice said from inside, in a tone akin to a mother comforting a child.

Splatter grumbled but continued his venture, trying several different angles before Dodge butted in. "Maybe I should try it, your hands have too much oil on them." "What do you mean? I washed them just before we got here!" "Oh, likely story!"

While the two bickered, Frances examined the lock, hoping that his main character abilities would kick in and he'd immediately be able to pick the lock. Spoiler alert: He couldn't.

"We can't get it boss!" Splatter called, and pulled Frances back by his arm. "Ow- what are you-" Frances complained, but he was soon silenced by a deafening crash and the sight of wood boards crashing to the dry ground. As the dust settled, Splatter and Dodge rushed over, clamouring over one another.

"Dawn! Oh thank god, we thought you might have been a government hologram!" Dodge sobbed, and Splatter sighed. "Dodge, 'We' is a very strong word."

Frances waited nervously, unsure what to do. He didn't know if he wanted to look at his mystery companion, or whether he wanted to run away right then and there. Steadying his nerves, he walked over in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner.

Dawn (he assumed that was her name, since Dodge had used it for them previously) was currently checking the twins for injuries, emotional damage and clothing stains. He immediately noticed one unexpected aspect of her appearance: a large metal claw attached to their back.

It was a coppery colour, and it was snapping in a way that made Frances even more nervous. They seemed very comfortable with it, standing strongly without any sign of strain. "Not what you were expecting, eh?" She grinned, showing several sharpened teeth.

"Not exactly?" Frances admitted, though he wasn't really complaining either. "Oh boy, the boss is back in business!" Splatter cheered, and Dodge joined in, the pair howling like two wild animals.