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The Lost Ones, Ch.1
🕑 Added 2023-10-01 09:57:12 +0000 UTCChapter One
Crafter’s Folly, Part One
Emelia Cannon swept her auburn hair behind her ears as she checked her makeup in the mirror one last time. A stray lash caught her eye, and she fixed it quickly.
“Perfect Em, perfect day!” She said with a smile. The twisting in her stomach calmed a little, as it always did when she was sure that there was not a hair out of place. She flashed a few practice smiles in the mirror, then dashed out the door.
South Ruislip, a forgettable suburb of Hillingdon, was not exactly a prestigious address. What it did have was a decent station and a short run into central London. That was why she had moved here, after all.
To live, work, and flourish in London!
Growing up in the Midlands had been just that, mid. Not excellent, not terrible. Average. And the average was never going to be enough for her; she had decided that early.
Emmy sniffed and moved slightly further away from her fellow commuters waiting for the morning train. All she could see was how incredibly little attention they paid to detail. The girl with her hair almost, but not entirely, perfectly held up in a clip, the man with his shirt just slightly untucked at the back.
Life had taught Emilia not to helpfully point these things out. They never appreciated it.
“Mornin’ Em!” A man called as he jogged up to stand beside her.
“Hey Mal, how was your run?” Emilia smiled brightly at the man.
Malcolm was the epitome of everything Emilia approved of in life, or at least he was now. Six months ago, after an awful day of moving into her little rented house, she had seen the overweight, sloppily dressed, and slovenly neighbor looking at her. She had exploded.
Emilia had frozen in place after calling him fat, lazy, and smelly. Beside herself with how ruse she had been, Emilia simply waited for the insults that would surely follow. Malcolm, on the other hand, just laughed in her face.
To her surprise, Malcolm was more than willing to admit to his faults. A lifetime loner who worked from home inevitably let himself go… until Emilia started offering her little tips.
Six months later, Emilia used the excuse of the train arriving to check Malcolm out as he shuffled into the packed car next to her.
Trim, neat, and a faint smell of a subtle but pleasing cologne. His clothes were the latest style, and his hair was perfect in every strand. Even his smile was better. He had used those teeth whitening strips she had brought him!
“So, what has you headed into the smoke?” Mal asked, his arm flexing as he held onto the bar. The toned muscles beneath his immaculate shirt gave Emilia a small thrill.
“I have an interview!” Emilia enthused, feeling her smile break out. “With that magazine, I told you about.”
“Congratulations!” Mal grinned, “I knew you could do it.”
“I haven’t got the job yet,” Emilia said with a well-practiced self-deprecating smile. Emilia had a perfect smile for every occasion.
“Are you kidding?” Mal winked. “You are perfect for it!”
“Stop!” Emilia laughed with perfect poise, “You’ll make me blush.”
While Mal gave her another easy smile, Emilia congratulated herself on her work with Mal.
Although he had no idea yet, he was her boyfriend.
He had let her mold and improve him beyond the just good-looking, nice guy with money level into a real catch. His reward for all that hard work?
Her, obviously.
By tonight, she would have the job of her dreams, the handmade man so perfectly curated by her, and her path to the perfect life would take a giant leap forward.
“What about you?” Emilia said, “Did you get a new client?” She tucked her hair behind one ear and bit the corner of her lip slightly, just like she had practiced, “I’m so impressed by how much work you’re putting in these days.” Not a natural at flirtatious behavior, Emelia copied that move from a number of classy movies and a few of the more acceptable pornos.
“Thanks, Em.” Mal said happily, “But no, this isn’t for a client. More personal development work. Or rather the result of it”
“Good for you!” Emilia beamed. He was really taking the initiative. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, I started doing some rock climbing a couple of weeks ago, and one of the girls asked me to show her around London today,” Mal said, blushing lightly. “She’s amazing, we’ve been chatting every day since… a really together person, you know? You’d love her.” Mal moved towards the door as they pulled up to another station. “See ya, Em!”
Emilia watched through the closing doors as Mal waved to this gorgeous woman waiting on the platform. She was… imperfect. Her clothes were all the best designers, and every inch of her skin was flawless. Jet black hair fell in the kind of artistic tussle she had never perfected, but… her posture was terrible! Look at how she arched her back as she hugged him.
And her breasts were too large for her frame.
The train moved off as Emilia saw the woman loop her arm through Mal’s.
That was her Mal, and now some other woman was taking all her work!
Her stomach twisted into knots again.
She took deep breaths, pushing the anxiety and irritation away.
“Perfect Em, perfect day,” She reminded herself.
Playing one of her favorite affirmation tracks, she felt calmer. Mal was a work in progress. This new woman, if anything came of it, would give her a chance to figure out any relationship issues Mal had. Once they were over, which, of course, they would be soon, he’d be all hers.
This would be better.
“Remember, you are the center of your own world,” The calming voice on the track repeated over and over. Emilia closed her eyes, breathed, and lost herself in the positive affirmations.
=============
A jolt shook Emilia out of her affirmations, making her open her eyes. The train must have made a couple of stops she hadn’t noticed because the train car was completely deserted.
She was headed for the end of the line anyway, so Emilia wasn’t worried… but where were all the other people? Had she nodded off?
Emilia pushed the thought away. That was impossible; she would never have fallen asleep. She slept from ten-fifteen pm until exactly seven am every day.
Good sleep meant a more perfect her.
Looking out the doors next to her, Emilia sighed. The dirty grey stone of the tube tunnel. A breakdown or a delay, then.
Damn! Em chided herself for her impatience. What if some poor soul had ended themselves on the tracks again?
“Those who fall are not your responsibility; pity them, and move on.” She said her favorite mourning affirmation.
Taking advantage of the empty carriage, Emilia carefully wiped and dusted one of the seats and sat primly on the edge so she didn’t crease the perfect slacks she was wearing.
She spent the next hour or so going over her weekly planner and making any minor adjustments that needed to be made. Not to mention some major ones.
Mal had been really inconsiderate in his courting of another woman; she had carefully penciled in several dates over the next few weeks, and now she would need to reallocate the time.
With a sigh, she looked around. This was taking too long. Emilia would be late if this went on much longer. Late would not be a good impression, which was why she had left two hours early.
Emilia had planned to spend the extra time reviewing the nearby area so she could drop a few little mentions into the conversation that showed she was familiar with the area. It was a trick she had developed early while in college. Everyone loved the girl who knew all the best places. Of course, they could have spent the time googling and reading reviews themselves, but they never did.
Another round of affirmation tracks followed, but as the time ticked closer to her interview, that twisting knot in her stomach became uncontrollable.
Her eyes locked on the emergency call box for almost fifteen minutes until it was exactly two hours since they had stopped.
Surely, that had to be an acceptable amount of time to wait before making polite inquiries?
Bracing herself for the poorly educated and surly train driver’s no doubt thick accent, she pressed the button.
She pressed it again as the lights flickered.
“Hello?” Emilia called, her voice trembling slightly. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Excuse me, may I ask why we are stopped?”
Nothing but an empty hiss came back.
Her fingers tapped against the side of her bag as she tried a few more times.
No response.
“There are no desperate situations,” Em said to herself, “Just poorly prepared people.”
With determinedly confident steps, she strode to the front of the carriage, pulling open the door with plans to go and knock politely but firmly on the driver’s door.
Empty tunnel greeted her.
Em stumbled back, almost having stepped out into the open air.
The open door seemed to taunt Emilia as she sat on a carefully cleaned seat next to it. It had been another three hours, and there was still no sign of rescue or really anything.
“Something big must have happened,” Emilia told herself, “No trains must be running.” She stood and paced, her eyes drawn to the doorway again and again. “The lights are on, so everything is fine.” A flicker of the lights made her freeze before they steadied again.
“In case of emergency, wait patiently for rescue if safe to do so,” Emilia read the words from the little sign again, not finding much comfort in them. “What if it never comes, eh mister helpful sign?”
The lights flickered and, this time, went out.
“Fuck!” Emilia swore in frustration before covering her mouth in horror. “A lady never swears,” She mumbled, feeling her knuckles ache where her mother had smacked them with the ruler to enforce that point.
She took a few cleansing breaths and straightened.
“There are no problems, just opportunities in disguise!” She said, the tone a demand that the opportunities make themselves known rather quickly.
The strange echoes that bounced back from the dark tunnel outside the door were enough to make her regret the choice.
The phone’s torch was brilliantly bright in the dark tunnel. She strode confidently and with purpose. This was the correct choice, she knew. A dark train carriage on the tracks was an accident hazard.
It was her responsibility to make sure someone in authority knew about it.
She was NOT just walking away because she was scared.
She was NOT panicking or desperate, whatever her pounding heart would have her believe.
“A confident person is a person in control,” Emilia said calmly. “I am in control of my life, my person, and my future. Therefore, I am confident.”
“Ya know, confident people don’t normally have to say they are confident.” A cheery voice said in the darkness next to her.
Emilia did not scream, even if she had to bite her tongue to stop it.
“Who’s there?” She swept the beam from the flashlight over the tunnel, seeing nothing.
“Down here!” The voice called.
Emilia trained the beam lower, and then she screamed.
“Well, fuck you too, toots.” The rat said grumpily.
“Get away from me!” Emilia said, hurrying back a few steps. “I have mace!”
“That’s nice,” The rat stopped leaning against the wall and pushed it’s little bowler hat back a little. The grubby waistcoat had a London Underground badge, she noticed. “You will probably need it where you're going.”
“You work for London Underground?” Emilia asked doubt in every word.
“Skipping the whole talking giant rat thing?” The rat twitched its nose. “That’s good.”
“Denying your own senses is denying your own sanity. Only the fool demands reality be other than it is.” Emilia said automatically.
“You got a lot of those sayings, ya know?” The rat grinned, revealing horrifically brown teeth.
“Preparation is the essence of wit,” Emilia said proudly. “Who are you and what is going on?”
“Introductions! Right!” The rat grinned again, “People normally just scream and try and hit me before running away.”
“To judge others because of their physical deformities is a poor reflection on yourself,” Emilia said primly.
“Ya, that isn’t as polite as you seem to think it is,” The rat chuckled before going on, “I’m the Scuttling Dark, and this is the Lost Line of the London Underground.”
“That is a… unique name,” Emilia said. “How do I get out of here?”
“You say a lot of stuff that sounds polite but isn’t. Did ya know that?” The Scuttling Dark said lightly. “And ya just keep walking.”
“I am always polite!” Emilia insisted.
“I’m sure you think so, Luv.” The rat grinned. “There are a few things you need to know, tho.”
“I am quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you!” Emilia said icily.
“Suit yerself, I’m sure,” The Scuttling Dark waved her on. “Sure I can’t help ya? I like to make things easier.”
“Easy is the path to mediocrity,” Emilia said, her hands smoothing her rumpled jacket. “I like to make things better, not easier.”
“Is that right,” The rat grinned at her. “I guess that will do then.”
“Good day,” Emilia said. “And I hope you find the spirit of the day to your liking.” It was one of her favorite ways to say goodbye to someone she would not have to see again. She didn’t quite understand what it meant, but that never worried her.
“Fan of spirits, eh?” The rat laughed. “Good to know, ta.”
“I’m not sure you understood me,” Emilia sighed.
“I’m not daft, thanks. Go on, run along.” The rat laughed as she stomped away.
“A lady never runs!” She called back over her shoulder.
“I bet ya bloody learn,” The Scuttling Dark said happily as Emilia tried to walk a bit faster.
A literal light at the end of the tunnel a mile or so later made Em feel a lot better. She had no idea what was happening, but she suspected some sort of drug had been involved.
Maybe the tube system got attacked with some kind of psychedelic? She made a note to ask for a medical evaluation when she got to the station or whatever it was ahead of her.
After all that dark, the light was a bit blinding, and she was embarrassed to stumble a little as she shielded her eyes and stepped out of the tunnel. Her smart and fashionable boots only had a slight heel, which was all that stopped her from falling as the heels pushed into the soft ground beneath her feet.
Blinking furiously, she looked around and could not stop herself from gaping. It was a very imperfect expression, but she couldn’t help it.
There were no train tracks, no station, merely a soft, loamy lawn that led to a cottage, complete with a thatched roof. The whole thing was in a horrible state; even the quaint little well looked overgrown, and one wall had collapsed slightly.
Beyond that?
Rolling fields of grass and shrubs with the very occasional tree. In the distance was what appeared to be a mountain range, but that was impossible.
There were no mountain ranges in England, especially not near London.
Turning to walk back into the tunnel, she gasped.
No tunnel waited for her, just more slightly overgrown lawn until it gave way to the rocky shore of a lake with the remains of a wooden jetty.
Her stomach twisted horribly, and her legs felt weak as her chest seemed to clench shut. Her vision swam, and black spots appeared in front of her eyes.
============
“Self-control is the key to victory, security, and safety,” Emilia said over and over again as she sat primly on the stone wall that surrounded the cottage.
She was proud of herself for not passing out. The panic attack had been a bad one, but she was her own master and had beaten it back.
“There is always a logical and reasonable explanation and response for even the most unlikely situation.” She insisted to herself.
However, the words floating in the middle of her vision stubbornly refused to accept that.
Welcome to world 867542-Q!
As a displaced citizen of another world, you have been granted this land as a welcome package.
As your handling agent (The Scuttling Dark) handled your introductory interview, your class has already been chosen for you!
A starter pack and basic supplies have been left for you in your new home.
Best of luck in your new life!
Class Assigned: Spirit Crafter!
Lvl 1
Spirit Crafter:
The living and the dead will all need your aid, mistress of the arcane art of creating new spirits!
Only the Gods can create souls, but you come a pretty close second!
P.S. Do not tell a God this, or they will kill you immediately; they are seriously touchy about this shit.
Her patience snapping as she was under a fair amount of stress, she swiped the words away and was delighted when that worked.
“Excuse me!” Emilia yelled. “I’m afraid I want to go home, please, and thank you!”
The only response was a chirping cricket.
No matter where she looked, there was no sign of civilization. She thoroughly searched the surroundings, even carefully climbing a tree to get a better look. No roads, cities, or other signs as far as she could see.
Alone, in the middle of nowhere, and seeing a few large shapes moving over the distant landscape, Emilia still covered her face as she cried.
The thing that made her finally enter the horrible cottage was the call of nature.
She was a lady, but you can only hold it for so long.
She found no signs of plumbing and, with a sinking feeling, approached the small shed in the back garden.
The door swung open, revealing an outhouse, complete with a brush and even a toilet roll. The toilet roll had a ribbon around it and a small card that read,
Compliments of the Scuttling Dark!
She almost threw it out the door in a fit of temper, but nature was calling, and toilet paper was something she suddenly realized she might come to treasure.
When darkness fell and the wind began to bite, she reluctantly returned to the dubious shelter of the cottage, the small fire she built in the fireplace the only smoke as far as the eye could see.
Emilia cried as she ate one of the energy bars she always carried.
“All troubles pass in time; weather them and become better for your struggles,” She sniffled a little later as she curled up on the battered couch, the light and warmth of the fire eventually lulling her to sleep.
