Charlotte's Body

A short piece I had to write for a class. I've had the idea for quite a while now, but I planned it more as a short story collection, going through the different adventures of Charlotte and Axel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Charlotte’s Body

(or How a Certain Mister Collins Changed the World)

By Lauren Skwiot

 

It was Charlotte’s body, the perfectly sculpted frame and beautiful inner workings, which truly made me realize I was to be an engineer.

Growing up in my family, one with a proper name and lineage, that sort of trade was looked down upon to put it best, so it had never really crossed my mind in my youth. Yes, I always had an attraction towards the working parts of mechanics, a temptation to draw myself into the filth of manual labor, but never had a truly seen a life in it. I was raised for the business of my family, medicine.

It was clear from my first day of medical school I should have never become a doctor. Despite my utter repulsion at the sight of gore and general lack of social talent, I made it through medical school; though I always had a suspicion my family’s money helped me along. My first job out of school was at Saint Joseph’s, a glorified moratorium just outside of London proper. It was such a short time I was there, the desolate building hardly made any mark on my memory. It had only been built decades ago in 1800, but time had not treated the building fair. Our patrons were usually, as I have previously mentioned, dead, of a dubious nature, or had nowhere else to go. That along with the outrageously long hours made it seem as though I would lose my mind everyday upon walking through the darkened doors.

With the nights there so long and soul destroying, even when I began finding bodies with confusing and questionable symptoms and injuries, I was told by several colleagues that it must all have been conjured by sleep deprivation and simple insanity. It wasn’t until the night she appeared I was willing to believe my own mind again, but I believe I just might be getting ahead of myself at this point.

Summer was coming to its zenith, the humidity highly tangible, and the smell inside the hospital, if you could imagine it, far above what most would consider unbearable. It was to the point where even doctors, who had all but learned to ignore the scent of death, were commenting. Not often straying far from the basement morgue, I hadn’t the slightest what time it was, nor how long I had been awake. Leaning against a gurney, I stared down into the bowels of the latest body I had been given. Something was off with the body, I knew, but I had little mind to care. I looked to my tools, set neatly beside me, furrowing my brow to find one missing. A slim hand, garnished in a fine silken glove, reached out with the tool. Muttering a quick thanks, I went about my business. I mentally made thanks to the assist, noting how much faster it made my work. I had never had an assistant before.

I’m not sure why it had taken me so long to notice. My head rose quicker than I thought I could move. I had never had an assistant before. Saint Joseph’s was far too cheap to afford me such a luxury.

“I truly am going insane!” I laughed. A woman stood opposite the gurney. One might even call her a beauty. Even in the dim lighting, I could make out the sharp features. High, angular cheekbones supporting heavily lidded hazel eyes. A cloak rested upon her broad shoulders, cascading to the floor, though it was pulled back enough to show a tightly strung corset. Her blond hair was pulled gently away from her face, sweeping far down her back. “I am imagining live ones now!" I turned my back from the vision, dropping my tools in the sink behind me, laughing loudly at my own foolishness.

“Oh, I can assure you, Mister Davis, I am not an illusion. I handed you all those tools, did I not? Those ones before you right now.” Her voice seemed almost mechanical as she spoke, as though it couldn’t have come from her mouth. I turned back suddenly, staring. “I had a feeling that you hadn’t noticed my presence. Most would have kicked me out or run screaming by now.” She paused for a moment, her eyes taking me in. A small smile curled the edge of her lips. “Personally, I would have gathered you as a runner. But enough of that nonsense, let’s take a look at this poor girl, shall we?” I didn’t move, I couldn’t. I just followed her with my eyes.

“I know you noted the bruising along the neck and arms, too obvious and pedestrian not to. Suggests a struggle of some sort, correct? But it is what inside the body which concerns me. There seems to be something that doesn’t belong.” Slowly, my eyes fell from the woman to the body. “How could you be so blind to all that mess?”

My eyes widened. All of the organs were missing, gone without a trace. Instead, the cavity was filled with strips of metal and gears. I fell back. My hands gripped the sink tight. My breath halted.

“But-“

“And I dare say, this isn’t the first time. You’ve been deluding yourself that this is all an illusion, haven’t you?”

This woman was right. I was a runner.

 

As I burst through the doors, I was surprised to feel the crisp morning air and sight of the sun rising over the town. It didn’t halt moving, and it wasn’t until I rounded the corner I came to a stop, my back falling against the brick. I slid down and sat. I’m not sure how long I was there when the woman slinked around the corner after me. It was clear she was in no hurry.

“You are not the bravest of men I had the pleasure of meeting,” a smile curled on her lips again. “And do trust me when I say I have met many men.”

“What do you want?”

“To find out what is happening to all these girls.”

“But why?”

“Because I know a fair number of the girls gone missing, and I can gather it is just matter of time until you know some of them too.”

“But why me?” Already exhausted, I was becoming exasperated.

“Despite it being seen by your own eyes, you believed it all to be a misconception. How do you expect anyone to believe me if I were to just tell them?” I was hardly in a state to disagree. Slowly, I stood. Taking a moment to straighten my shirt and vest, I nodded towards her.

“And what, pray tell, are the chances of you leaving me alone until I agree to help?”

“While I would do nothing to hinder your work, though from what I could tell there was little to hinder…”  The same smile, with curled corners and hooded eyes, became etched on her face. “But I would still have to examine the bodies, and if I were to be in your way at work, or your colleagues were to see you with a strange, exotic woman, well it couldn’t possibly be any fault of mine.” I paid little mind to what was thought of me, despite the concerns my family had for their name.

“Do what you may, Miss-“

“Lewis. Miss Charlotte Lewis.” She curtsied, bowing deeply and pulling her skirts, and sent me another smile. I stood firmly in my spot, unmoving. “Is it not customary for a man of class to bow?”

“My apologies, Miss. Lewis.” I bowed forward slightly. “Do what you may, but I will not be a part of it. If you will be so kind as to excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

“My apologies to you, Mister Lewis, I shouldn’t have held you for so long.”

I turned my back to her. I should have returned to the hospital, but knowing my absence would go unnoticed, I instead took route back to my home.

 

Even by London standards, my apartment was a small one; a simple place with one bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living area, not even room for a single servant. Simple was something I had always wanted, to be as far from the extravagancies from my past life as possible.

Stepping out of bed earlier than I normally would have had on my day off, I yawned through my morning routine. I had errands to run deep in town, and if I wanted to avoid rushing through the entire day, I had to be sure to rise early. Before stepping through the door, I stopped to check myself in the vanity mirror my mother had insisted adding to the room, pleading with me, telling me it made the room appear larger, not that I cared much, but the things I did to please her. Brushing my short brown waves into a presentable manner with my fingers, I placed my top hat, making sure it was set straight. Every morning I put it on, I was reminded how much of my father I had in me, with my strong, square jaw, a broad nose. My eyes though, darker than any other man I have met, were all my mother’s.

Running my fingers over my chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in my shirt and long jacket, I left apartment and all thoughts of my parents, behind.

Outside, the rain was already falling, though as any self-respecting Englishman I walked straight through it. I barely had left my block when I heard someone calling me.

“Axel Davis?” Stunned by the informality, I turned to find a rather large man, clearly a head taller than myself and by my best estimate twice as wide.

“Yes. How may I help you?”

“I’m afraid you better come with me, sir.” He took a step, reaching for my arm. Shocked, I took a step back, turning my body away. Unfortunately, I hit the chest of another man, equally as large as his companion. I pushed against his chest before he could grasp me, raising my fists to what I knew would be a futile fight. Before I had a chance to swing at either of my opponents, they were both pulled back and flung to the ground.

“Miss Lewis?” I was shocked. She seemed a harmless and dainty woman, but clearly had some source of power. She looked at me with a stern expression.

“Were you never taught to fight?”

Having been stunned by being thrown by such a tiny being, the burly men took a moment to rise. One lunged for her while the other reached into his chest pocket, pulling out a knife. With what appeared to be little effort, Charlotte pulled away her skirts and kicked him aside. Given the distraction, his companion seized her by the arms and pulled her backwards to his chest. What could best be described as annoyed expression crossed her face. Grabbing his shoulders tightly she stepped forward and hurled the man directly atop the other, the knife in his hand catching her sleeve and slicing down her arm in the process.

Having been too astonished to do much else the entire time, I now rushed to her side. Reaching for her injured arm, she pulled away. Defeated, the men rose as quickly as they could and hurried off in the direction they came. “Are you alright?” I asked, alarmed.

“You really are a pathetic excuse for a man, aren’t you?” She examined her arm, holding it close to her body, obscuring my view. “A defenseless woman is attacked and you just stand by, acting as though you’re waiting for a ferry cross the river!”

“I would hardly call you defenseless, Miss Lewis! And need I remind you, I was attacked first, and it was you who rescued me. Now I am a doctor, so let me see your arm!”

“I will not argue semantics, Mister Davis. And trust me when I say that you do not wish to see my arm.”

“I can guarantee you I have seen worse.”

“And I can guarantee you have never seen anything like this.”

“You are being foolish. Give here.” I grasped her arm and tugged it towards me, but she would not budge.

“No.” Her lips curled upwards.

“Is this a game to you?” I pulled harder, but to no avail. “Do you find the state of your body a funny thing?”

“Why yes, I actually do.” She laughed.

“Miss Lewis,” I sighed deeply and gave her a stern look. “Please.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and extended her injured arm towards me.

Narrowing my eyes, my mouth opened slightly. There was no blood. Grabbing hold, I leaned for a closer look. Pulling back the torn sleeve, I saw not a drop of red, the complete absence of raw, angry flesh. So enthralled by the previous action, the absence of rain had gone unnoticed, and as the sun scarcely peaked from behind the clouds, I caught a glint below the skin.

I stumbled back, falling into the ditch at the side of the road, dirty rainwater slashing up and soaking my jacket and pants. “I did tell you that you wouldn’t wish to see.”

 

Hurriedly, I led Charlotte to my apartment. I was unsure of what I saw, but I thought it would be best to get the details for everything in private. Shutting the door behind us, I flipped the latch, locking the door so our attackers could not return to bother us. Charlotte had already made herself comfortable on my chaise, leaning against the back, eyes closed.

“It has already been quite a tiring day.” Her eyes fluttered open and she stared openly at me, a smile gracing her lips. “Has your life always been so exciting?”

“Only since yesterday,” I muttered softly. Pulling a chair from my dining table, I sat it opposite her.

“So,” I was unsure of how to start. “Your arm...”

“Yes, it’s a bit off. Actually all of me is! Been meaning to get it looked at for quite some time, just been putting it off. Doctors, you know, always cold and intimidating people.” I ignored her taunts.

“What do you mean? All of you is like that?” My brows furrowed together. “Is this why you’re so interested in what’s happening to these girls?”

“No, sir.” Her voice was flat and mocking. “I just awoke one day, after having found all this metal inside me, and suddenly became interested in these girls and their deaths because we all went to a fancy private school out in the country.”

“Yes, silly question, sorry. But seriously, is you’re entire body like your arm?” She sat up suddenly, that smile back on her face.

“Would you like to see?”

“Yes.” My curiosity got to me before I could think about her offer. Slowly and nonchalantly she stood, and reached for the top buttons of her dress.

“God!” Standing so quickly, I knocked my chair over and tripped on it turning. “What are you doing?”

“You said you wanted to see my body, so I’m showing it to you!”

“Well I didn’t think you meant like…like that!” I felt flustered.

“How else do you expect to see?” I was vaguely aware of the sound of her clothing hitting the floor. “Plus you are a man of medicine, yes? Shouldn’t you approach this with a more professional state of mind?” I straightened suddenly. Blast her, I knew she was right.

“Yes, you are correct, Miss Lewis. I apologize for being so unbecoming of a gentleman.” I heard the creaking of my dining table, a terrible nuisance I had yet to have the chance to fix. “Do let me know when you are ready.”

“I have been, Mister Davis, I was simply allowing you the time to compose yourself.”

I turned, perhaps faster than I ought have, and gingerly stepped over the dress and corset she had thrown on my floor. I was relieved to find her laying face down, a hand modestly covering her breasts from my view, and still at least partially clad in drawers and stockings. Though I made note of the limited amount of clothing on her person, I did not really think of it until much later, as more information of her past became known to me.

When I reached her, I did a double take at the corset on the ground. Right alone her spine, thick leather strings crossed back and forth, in and out her skin, pulled taught by the binding.

“Dear god…” I whispered.

“If you want to actually see what I am, you might wish to undo that. I hardly have any feeling left there, so do not worry about paining me.” Charlotte instructed, pointing to the knotted bow in the middle of her back. Gingerly, I tugged on the ends of the string, carefully unlacing her back. I found small holes in her skin reinforced with copper circles, making for a sifter process of pulling apart the skin. Though I should have felt nauseated by doing such a thing to a living body, I found Charlotte containing no warmth as a human should.

When I finally was able to pull her back apart, I gasped at the inside. As with the girl I had found before, there was no trace or organs within her body, but metal and gears, though in Charlotte, they ticked and turned with life. Instead of a heart, there was a jagged, raw crystal, wrapped several times in wiring. The ticking of gears imitated a heartbeat. With no lungs or stomach, there more turning gears in place. A skeleton of bone had been replaced with metal, geometric versions of the real thing, with beautiful engravings containing the name of each bone etched along every surface.

“Amazing!” I breathed slowly, trying to take in the awesome beauty of mechanicals and man. Charlotte turned her neck to strain a look at me, and I saw the gears and metal of her neck twisting. She lifted her arms, and I watched the whirr of her shoulders turning and pulling metal shafts.

Quick as I could, I slid off my jacket and roughly rolled up the sleeves. “Hold on just a moment!” I ran from her side, in search of a blank paper. “I need to make notes!”

 

The day was spent bending over Charlotte, moving away only to make quick sketches and jot down information. After lacing her back up, I left the room as she dressed, writing ever more notes. “Are you decent yet?” I called through the closed door.

“Enough.”

When I entered, she was still in the process of buttoning herself, but my eyes were stuck on the pages before me. “Truly amazing,” I muttered, sitting at the table. I finally looked up, Charlotte still had her back to me. “Tell me, how did this become of you?” All movement of hers stopped. In the silence, I could just barely hear the ticking of her heart.

“Not sure,” she stated simply, suddenly in motion again. “I just awoke one day, in some warehouse. No clue where I was, I just got out. There were a lot of others there…no one else moved. I just ran. Cannot say I have had the desire to go back.” When she turned around, she was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I think we should.” Charlotte dropped the façade and outright glared at me. “It would be the best way to find out what is happening. I am sure you are aware of that.” Her silence told me I was right.

“Fine,” she said eventually, just a whisper. She brought her head up, voice becoming firm. “We should go now.” Swiftly, Charlotte moved across my apartment and out the door. Swearing, I grabbed my jacket from the door and ran after her.

 

An hour or better of chasing Charlotte through industrial districts, the days light slowly fading over the horizon, she finally stopped moving in front of a darkened warehouse.

“Are you sure?”

It seemed as though no one had touched the building in years, fallen bricks littering the surrounded ground. The windows were almost completely broken out.

“Positive, how could one ever forget this sight?” I had to admit she was right, the building was the kind to leave a scar on the memory. “Even without that, I just have this odd feeling about the place.” Nodding, I grasped the doors and pulled. Nothing happened.

With a huff, Charlotte pushed me aside, pulling the doors herself. With a sharp groan and crack, they popped open.

As we walked through the heart of the building, the familiar sketch of death met my nose. The floor was streaked with grim, a brown, almost rusted color prevalent through almost every inch of the building. Spotting the Forman’s Office in the far corner, and having found nothing of use on the ground floor, we ascended the stairs. Opening the door slowly, we spotted a lit candle near the far wall.

The office was just as filth covered as the rest of the building. Pieces of metal and gear, just as the ones found in Charlotte and others, were laying on every surface. The back wall was lined with desks, and I left Charlotte at the door to get a closer look. Papers were strewn across it, stuck under numerous amounts of trash, despite the wet wind blowing through the windows. Picking some up, I glanced over the notes.

“Pictures…drawings…” I turned the papers at different angles. “They look similar to the ones I drew…of your body.” I glanced up. “Charlotte?”

She stood frozen where I had left her by the door, staring at the opposite corner. I followed her gaze. I am unsure how I missed it upon entering, but a frail man stood in the shadows, his hands covered his face, and from the dim light I could see the glint of tears down his face.

“God! Sir, are you okay?” I rushed towards him. Up close I could see his salt and pepper hair, a distinguished, sharp chin, and pointed nose. His blue eyes were wide, with a crazed look. “Sir?”

“My child!” His sudden outburst shocked me, causing me to jump back, alarmed. He walked forward, reaching out towards Charlotte. She stepped back calmly, her eyes never leaving the man. He came to a sudden halt, his expression suddenly sullen, though it bounced back to ecstasy just as quick. “Ah, yes. I should have been more cautious. I am just so…excited!

“When you ran off, I was so worried, I was afraid that you would become lost, just like all the others. I must say I find great pleasure in your return!” Unexpectedly, he turned to me. “And you! Why I find myself being rude! Let me introduce myself. I am Gregory Collins.” He bowed with haste. “Mister Collins to you.” He nodded towards Charlotte. “And dear father to Miss.”

“I dare say not,” Charlotte finally spoke. “For Mister Collins, I have not the faintest of who you are.” Her face was an unemotional mask.

“Ah…I suppose you would not recognize me, my child. As I said, you ran before you had the pleasure of meeting me! I even sent a few good fellows to find you-”

“Was it you?” I stepped closer to Charlotte.

“Excuse me?”

“Was it you that destroyed her?”

“Destroy her?” He brought this hand up to his heart, eyes widening. “No! I did not destroy the girl, I created her! And as a creator, I do not believe in destruction.”

“What of all those other girls?” Charlotte demanded.

“Merely mistakes,” he said nonchalantly, with a wave of his hand.

“Mistakes? You destroyed their lives! And for what purpose?”

“Yes! Mistakes! I was simply attempting to improve them, just as I did you! You see, my child, not terribly long ago, I was low man, someone of no rank or intelligence, traveling about town looking for work. I took a terrible fall right into the street, run over by a carriage. They left me for dead, but God intervened. He granted me this second life, graced me with knowledge beyond our own time; the knowledge to improve human life. Not all of the technology He showed me was available, though, had to make due with what I had at hand, that is where those terrible mistakes come in. But now, I can see I was able to do it! I succeeded! God gave me these gifts, but…he was a foolish god. He made something equal-no, dare I say it, greater than himself.”

“A mere mortal can never be above God!” I sneered at him, disgusted by his ridiculous justifications.

“And alas, here stands the proof that I no longer need to fear mortality, that I can surpass what limitation God has given us!”

“With information you claim God has given you?” Charlotte interjected. “You claim he was foolish because he gave information to surpass him, personally I say he was foolish to give it to a man with such little brain power to understand his will!”

“Ah, think what you may, my child, but it appears your opinion has no value in our current situations.” He sighed, his near constant elation suddenly slipping to depression. “I must admit my very worst mistake is in organization. As you might be able to see, I never properly organized my notes, which means I have…misplaced the notes on your creation. And if I wish to obtain my immortality anytime soon, I must find out just exactly how I created you.” I narrowed my eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I must deconstruct her.”

I heard the door creak open and as I turned to chase after Charlotte, I felt firm hands on my side push me to the ground. I swore as Mister Collins ran out the door. On my feet as quick as I could, I followed. Keeping track of them through the maze of shelves and boxes was difficult. Several times I was forced to stop and listen for them. Eventually I made it out, just barely in time to see Charlotte barreling into the busy street. The rain had picked up again, coming down in heavy, fat droplets, turning every surface into a slick mess and reducing visibility severely. Yells and jeers followed her every twist and turn through the crowd as she avoided horses and carriages. Mister Collins rushed after her. Not as agile as his creation, it took but moments for him, caught by his obsession and greed, to fall into the street.

The traffic halted. I ran across, avoiding looking towards the sad sight of the sad man. Pulling off my jacket, I draped it over Charlotte’s shoulders, ushering her away from the scene.

It was least half an hour of walking in silence before she spoke.

“What do I do now?”

“Live.”