Molly: A New MakerMature

"No! No. Please-"

Molly tossed, turned, and suddenly leapt up, the veils of sleep falling heavily from her body like thick sheets. She was alone. She stumbled forwards - not quite sure where it was she was trying to get, or what it was that she was fleeing from - but fell with a clatter to the floor.

"AH!" She groaned into the cold wooden floorboard under her face. She rolled onto her back, running her hands over her face. Her neck. Her chest and stomach. And finally, her legs.

Everything - everything was different. Lighter. More.... Flexible. Just - different. She blinked. The vision in both eyes sharpened, and she even found that she could zone in on certain details of objects, such as the nuts and bolts holding the steel bed together, and study them very closely.

She got to her shiny new feet with a clattering of steel from her knees. A pair of light, black leather boots hugged her lower calves. She'd never worn anything like them before. She began twisting her body this way and that. Her floral dress had been cut, and fashioned into a slim-fitting one-piece bodysuit that emphasised the curves in her waist and allowed her to pace over and back in the room with ease as she swung her arms this way and that, kicking her feet out and shifting her weight from left to right, to such an extent that she found herself balancing on one foot while the other wobbled in the air above her back.

This is astounding, she thought to herself, feeling her heart thump and blood pleasantly fill her cheeks. 

The door creaked open, and Molly whirled around to face it. A flame-haired woman stood, watching her with curiosity, and a little pride. She placed her hands on both hips, which stood out wonderfully between her silky black trousers and low-cut white blouse. Her hair scooped up and secured at the nape of her neck, and her cheeks flushed, exposed without the cover of any makeup, she was unlike any woman Molly could ever remember seeing.

"Well, aren't you looking much better, sweetie?" she said with a smile, eyes drifting up and down over Molly's body.

Molly grimaced. "Are.... Are you my new Maker?"

An amused grin tugged at the woman's features, and she appeared to bite back a chuckle. "That's putting it a little romantically. I am, however, your new captain. I'm Katrina Wethertoppe."

"Molly Penniwell."

"A pleasure. I look forward to us getting to know one another. But first, there are some matters that must be seen to. Have you ever worked on board an airship before?"

"I don't know what that is."

"How old are you?"

"I don't remember."

"Last occupation?"

"I don't know what that is."

"Hmmm." Captain Katrina chewed her lip. "Have you got any particular skills or talents?"

"Yes. Baking. Reading. Playing cards."

"Hmmmmmm." The look on the Captain's face grew more worrying every time Molly opened her mouth. "Reading, you say?"

"Yes."

"That could come in useful. You ever worked with children before?"

Something blinked inside Molly's head. A light shone on something. She recognised the word, but couldn't find that which it cast light on.

"I don't know what that is," she murmured helplessly.

The Captain's eyes widened, but she quickly brushed off her surprise. "We'll come back to that one. You must be hungry, and dinner is ready upstairs. Why don't you join us?"

"Okay."

Captain Katrina whirled out of the room, and Molly the Miracle Girl followed her, effortlessly jogging, for the first time since Mr. Meriwether had saved her. Feeling like a feather.

The End

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