the clockwork girl

Chapter 1

'What a mess,' the tomboyish brunette thought to herself, dredging through mud several miles outside city limits. It was supposed to be clear skies, but rain poured heavily down upon her. Sam walked for a while before happening upon a large house straight out of another century. "Jackpot," she said aloud to no one in particular, eyes suddenly gleaming with excitement. Before she could go any further her phone buzzed notifying her of a text, she opened her messages and saw it was from Matt; Hey Sam I noticed you aren't home. Get caught in the rain? She typed up a short reply to ease his worries before turning off her phone and pressing on. Sam opened the main gate and walked through what appeared to have once been a garden. She closed her eyes and pictures what it would have looked like, the colorful flowers in bloom all around, the fountain clean and whole, the entire image was beautiful. Though eventually had to open her eyes and see what time did to even the most brilliant of sights, the flowers are gone and replaced by weeds, the fountain no longer had a beautiful stream of water instead it was now crumbled and overgrown with moss. She continued on into the house, noticing the air had a particular somber feeling. It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to, having explored other old houses, though none quite like this one. This one was more akin to a mansion, and it wasn't in a historic district, or even within city limits for that matter. She continued to explore the manor, forgotten by all, it seemed that time was its only company. The floor was rotted, the roof collapsing in various places, the fireplace had collapsed, and the library smelled heavily of mildew. She made her way through the house, eventually finding herself in the master bedroom. Everything appeared as though it hasn't been touched in at least a century. She opened a drawer on the nightstand, finding a journal. She flipped to the last page and saw what looked like a suicide note, as she read it over she couldn't help but feel heartbroken.
I know that no one will ever read this, and I suppose it doesn't truly matter. None of my efforts to bring my little girl back worked. All I made was a doll that looks like my dear Lily. So I shut it in my daughter's room and came to write this note- no a note would be addressed to someone- I came to write my final report I cannot carry on with my experiments without my beloved daughter, so I'm shutting them down. Along with everything else. I guess I'm stalling at this point, so I'll end it now I'm sorry Lily please forgive your foolish father- Julian Key.
She closed the journal and began to cry, the somber feeling of the house suddenly became an unbearable sadness. She sat on the old bed for quite some time before finally standing up and exiting the room. Sam wandered the house aimlessly for quite some time, thinking about the note, and the journal it was found in. It appeared as though no one had read that note before her, she continued to think about what the report meant by a doll. With the curiosity welling up inside her, Sam collected her self and began searching for the daughter's room. Only in searching for a specific room did she realize how large the house truly was. After an hour of searching a corridor on the second floor caught her eye, it was in a state of disrepair even compared to the rest of the house, parts were strewn about, the machinery of an age long past beckoned her forward. It made her uneasy to see the automatons thrown about as if tossed there to rot. At the end of the corridor was a door begging to be opened, as if forgotten by even the passage of time. Sam approached the door, careful not to trip over any of the automatons, as she drew closer, she noticed the gleam of a nameplate plastered onto the door.
"Lily," she read aloud thinking back to the journal which now laid carefully in her bag. She attempted to open it, finding that it was locked and still held firm, despite how the corridor it sat in threatened to collapse with even a soft breeze. She pulled out a small clockwork machine and turned the key. "Come on little buddy, I need you to pick the lock," she said to it as if on cue the small machine sprung to life. She places it on the door handle, and after just a moment the door clicked signifying that it was unlocked. She grabbed the handle, hesitating for only a moment before opening the door and entering the room. It was gorgeous, the only thing to show the passage of time is the thick layers of dust adorning the furniture.
A vanity with beauty products of the time as well, like a music box, lied neatly atop it. Next to it was a dresser, hand-crafted, in nearly pristine condition. Finally, at the end of the room, a bed with someone laying atop it. The girl was blonde with profound feminine beauty and skin pale as porcelain that shined in the moonlight, flooding in through a window with curtains tied back. Sam approached the girl who appeared to be at the very least two years her junior, noting the dark silk dress that adorned her further complimenting her complexion. Sam placed her hand on the girls face, her skin ice cold but surprisingly soft, more so than an average person but it didn't feel unnatural, save for the temperature difference. "Are you really just a doll?" Sam asked the girl lying in bed as if she would actually receive an answer. Sam stared at the girl for a couple hours trying to figure out what she would do with this discovery, the girl was beautiful, human in almost every way. Much love was clearly placed in crafting this machine, the elegance of her dress, and her neatly brushed hair gave the girl a refined beauty. "Where's your key I wonder?" Sam asked, once again talking to herself. She picked up the girl, noticing how heavy she was despite her petite figure and began carrying her out of the house. After the painfully long walk back to her truck, made only worse by the extra weight she was carrying, Sam felt as if she could curl up and fall asleep just about anywhere. Instead, she placed Lily in the passenger seat and prepared for the two-hour drive back home.