The Wooden Girl

“The wooden girl is one of the Fears. It takes the appearance of a living puppet,” 330 explained. “and it uses strings to take control of people, forcing them to work for her.”

“Like mind control?”

“Sometimes. Other times it’ll keep the mind conscious, and only control the body. And if it really likes you, it won’t use the strings at all. It can be extremely persuasive when it feels in the mood.”

We spent the drive discussing the Girl’s interference. Well, 330 and I did. Lucy remained silent in the backsteat.
The conclusion we came to was just a confirmation of what we’d been suspecting. The Wooden Girl had been active in the city, and the CIA was taking advantage of the chaos for a political play. They just hadn’t counted on the Wooden Girl having an attachment to one of their targets.

“What do you think the CIA will do now?” I asked.

“Depends. If they want to be reasonable, they’ll settle with what they’ve gained now. I can’t imagine many FBI agents survived the initial attack; so long as they don’t try anything too insane, they’ll be the ones calling the shots on the supernatural here. If they’re going to ignore sanity in favor of dramatics, they might try to completely purge the region of all opposition….”

330 looked back to Lucy, who seemed surprised at the sudden attention. “What? You mean they might come for me? But I’m not important!”

“That would make sense when arguing with a sane person, but… last time I heard Lupine talking, sanity wasn’t the impression I got from him. Trying to summon Slender Man and rule the world, remember?”

“What should I do?” The realization of the threat to her life seemed to have at least temporarily brought Lucy out of her grief.

“We’ll get you out of the city. Somewhere you can safely get in contact with your superiors, maybe get a transfer to someplace nice. Like Wyoming. Ask if you can get transferred to Wyoming, nothing bad happens there. Lisa and I have stayed too long in this city anyways. Time we moved on.”

Before leaving the city, we made a quick stop at Matthew’s safehouse to grab anything we’d need. 330 filled the trunk of the car with as many guns as she could, while I searched for any food or money we could use. Lucy came out of one of the rooms holding a suitcase.

“Mr. Larsen always had this with him. It seemed important to him.” She said. “I don’t know the combination to open it, but I can’t leave it here….” We put it in the backseat with everything else.

“That should be everything.” 330 said. “Now let’s get movi-”

A pair of headlights appeared from up the street and barreled towards us. I was blinded by the sudden light so I couldn’t see, but I heard screeching tires followed by automatic gunfire. Lucy and I were pushed behind the cover of our car while 330 ran into the fight. Men in urban camo were running at us from every direction, shouting orders to each other, firing at 330, who was all over the place, vanishing before the bullets could hit her then appearing behind the soldiers. She made the fight look effortless: every shot she fired from her rifle hit someone. In less than a minute, it ceased being an attack and turned into chaos.

“Get into the car!” 330 shouted to us. Lucy complied immediately, jumping right into the backseat. I opened the passenger door, but paused to look to 330. I could see her by the headlights, firing at targets hidden in the darkness. Then, another silhouette rose behind her. It pointed a gun at her, and I waited for her reaction, for her to spin around and shoot first, protect herself, but… she didn’t move. Didn’t look back. Didn’t realize there was someone behind her about to fire.

All that training I’ve been going through for months now… it all kicked in before I could think. Pulled out my pistol, aimed, and fired four shot straight at the silhouette. It wasn’t until the body had fallen that I realized what I’d just done.

Without regard to safety, I ran out into the firefight towards the man. Wasn’t thinking. Just… had to do something. There was so much blood, everywhere…. I tried to stop it, tried stopping the bleeding. Stupid, panic driven actions. Putting your hands over a bullet wound isn’t going to save someone. Had to try, couldn’t let someone die because of me….

Lucy had gotten back out of the car and was trying to pull me away. I fought at first, but didn’t have the will to resist. Too focused on that body. The man I’d killed. Even after the car was driving away from that spot, I could still see him in my head. Couldn’t focus on the drive. All I saw was the lights of the city flashing by, with the sounds of pursuit behind us.

Came back to my senses when our car flipped over. 330’s reckless driving finally came back to bite us. We’d ended up in a junkyard filled with old cars, which 330 was using as cover in her fight with the men chasing us. More and more kept coming, storming towards us.

“This is insane!” Lucy shouted. “They’ve gone insane! They can’t cover up something like this!”

She was right, I suppose. Subterfuge no longer seems to be a concern of Lupine’s.

As the battle was reaching a pitch, light illuminated the junkyard. Took a while for my eyes to adjust to the change; when it did, I saw at each corner, searchlights had been brought in, all pointed towards us. The shooting had stopped. Seemed like the soldiers were just as confused as us.

Then, the voice of a girl came through my head. “Oh no, don’t stop just on my account! Things were getting so exciting!”

Four people entered the junkyard, wearing masks that hid all features and carrying a stretcher. Lounging on that stretcher was the Wooden Girl. Soon as the soldiers saw her, one shouted for them to fall back, and they ran. None of them made it two steps before suddenly freezing in place.

“No, you can’t leave now! You don’t want to miss out on any of the fun!”

The soldiers marched back in perfect unison to the Girl’s side. She jumped off the stretcher, and with her hands behind her back in a girlish pose, spoke to us. “Now which one of you is Lucy Parsons? Come on, don’t be shy. Matty’s told me so much about you.”

330 fired, and the bullet hit the Girl directly in the forehead. No effect. The Girl waved a hand, and one of the junk cars went flying forward. It landed on 330’s left arm, crushing the limb underneath it and pinning her to the ground.

“You stay there until it’s your turn, okay? Now back to my question….”

I tried to run towards 330, but my legs wouldn’t move. Looked down, and saw strings coming up from the ground, holding my legs in place. More strings were holding down Lucy’s legs as well.

“Still quiet? That’s alright, I have a better way of dealing with this anyways! Matty, you can come out now!”

Matthew stepped out from the night so he stood at the Girl’s side. He was only wearing a rag draped over his shoulders, which barely hid the bruises covering his body and the dirty bandage over his stump of an arm.

“You know what to do, Matty!” The Girl said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He started to walk towards us, his working arm holding a gun. He pointed it at Lucy, and fired a shot; it missed, hitting the car behind her.

“Mr. Larsen! It’s me! Lucy!”

He fired again, hitting the ground at her feet.

“Come on Mr. Larsen, it’s me!”

The Wooden Girl began to laugh as Matthew fired another shot. “I don’t know how long he can keep missing you! What are you going to do?”

A bullet grazed Lucy’s arm, and she pulled out her own gun. “Don’t… don’t make me, Mr. Larsen! I’ll… I’ll shoot!”

He ignored her warning and fired again. Lucy yelped as the shot went past her cheek, drawing blood.

“Are you just going to stand there?” The Girl said. “I know for certain his next shot will hit you right in the heart!”

There were tears in Lucy’s eyes, and her arms were shaking. “Please, Mr. Larsen…. I don’t want to….”

Another shot echoed in the junkyard. And Matthew Larsen fell dead.

The next sound was so strange, so unexpected I almost didn’t believe it. 330 was… laughing. I looked at her, arm still trapped underneath the car. Her free hand was holding the smoking gun which had killed Matthew. “I just figured it out.” She said to the Girl. “From your perspective, this is the first time you’ve met me. Which means….” Maybe it was just the way the searchlights were reflecting on her, but I swear I saw a flash of red in her eyes, “you’re not at all prepared for the things I can do.”

The car which had held her down flew away with such a force that it smashed the truck it landed on. 330 jumped to her feet, holding her somehow left arm aloft. For the first time, I saw it without a glove, sleeve, or bandages covering it. And I saw… blackness. Not a black arm. But blackness in the shape of an arm.

The Wooden Girl looked annoyed, but not troubled by the development. Then 330’s gun arm blurred for a moment; I only heard a single shot, but every person in that junkyard controlled by the Girl all fell over simultaneously, a bullet hole in their heads. 330 looked at me, with the largest smile I’ve ever seen on her face.

“Pay close attention, Lisa! You get to see how a time traveler REALLY fights!”

The Wooden Girl sent strings towards 330. She reached forward with her black arm, and… she caught the strings. Even on the Girl’s painted face, you could see surprise.

“You can’t do that.”

330 began laughing, even as she spoke to the Girl. “It has been so long since I just allowed myself to let loose. I am going to enjoy this.”

She pulled on the strings, and they snapped in half. Then she started to run towards the Girl, pulling her black arm back as if in preparation to swing.

Before the Girl could launch more strings at 330, another 330 appeared to her right, and opened fire. The bullets had no effect, but it caught the Girl’s attention. She sent strings at the new 330, tearing apart the cars in the way, but 330 vanished before she was hit, and another appeared in a new location, firing more shots at the Girl.

330 appeared and disappeared over and over, firing more and more weapons at the Girl; guns, grenades, one even shot it with a rocket launcher. The Girl was sending her strings everywhere, destroying everything around her but still not hitting 330. And all the while, the original was getting closer.

At the last moment, the Girl remembered the original, and attacked her. Just as the strings were about to hit, 330 disappeared, reappearing right behind the Girl. 330 swung her black arm, and it connected with the Girl’s head. The fist tore through the wood, creating an explosion of splinters. The Girl’s body stood for a few moments, then collapsed.

Dead silence in the junkyard as the body fell. Had she… had she really….

“Well this certainly explains why you were so mad at me every other time we met….” 330 mumbled.

I could move my legs again. Lucy ran straight to Matthew’s body. I thought about running to 330, but… was hesitant.

“330… your arm….”

The exultation of victory dropped from 330’s face when she looked at me. Quickly she turned so that I couldn’t see her arm. “It’s nothing….”

“That’s not nothing!”

“It’s nothing. Just forget about it.” Already she was tearing off parts of her coat so she could rebandage the arm, hiding it from sight.

I took the hint. Pointed at the unmoving wooden body. “Is she… it… dead?”

“No. That was just a physical form it took. Destroying it’s like cutting off a strand of hair.”

Well… darn. I suppose it was too much to hope that we’d won….

“He’s alive!” Lucy shouted.

Ran back to Matthew. She was right, he was alive. Barely.

“Never thought… I’d be able to talk again.” Matthew whispered as we huddled around. “You guys beat the Wooden Girl?”

330 nodded. “Decked her right in the face.”

Matthew laughed, which caused a bout of coughing. “Damn, I wish… I could have seen that. Least I’ll die with… that thought in my head.”

“You can’t die, Mr. Larsen! We’ll get you to a hospital! You’ll be fine!”

“Heh… sorry, Lucy. Bit late for that. The broad’s… too good a shot. I’ll bleed out soon.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry. You got… that suitcase of mine?” Lucy nodded. “Good… good. The combination’s… 2586…7130. Left a note in there… for you. It’ll tell you what to do next. And… I’m sorry about this. Looks like… I lied when I told your dad… I’d watch over you.” Having said that, Matthew closed his eyes, and his breathing started to slow. Lucy shook him, shouting at him not to die. It didn’t work.

After Matthew died, the three of us just sat in that junkyard. Surrounded by bodies on all sides. I was exhausted. All that adrenaline, the fighting, so many people dying, and then it was all over. Didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing.

330, of course, recovered first. She threw open the car’s trunk and examined the guns we’d collected there. “Anyone remember which ones I shot the Girl with?” Neither of us could. “Alright, I’ll just figure it out. Usually works out in the end.” She picked up the first she grabbed, and vanished. Reappeared a moment later, tossed the gun aside, grabbed a new one, then vanished again. Process went on for a while, until she’d gone through almost the entire trunk.

As she did that, Lucy and I got the suitcase out of the car. When we opened it, the first thing that fell out was an old photo. A much younger Matthew, standing next to a woman holding a baby. Lucy said she didn’t recognize the woman. There was also a note in the suitcase, addressed to us three. Lucy read it aloud.

“Don’t have much time to write. This is in case I don’t make it back. Which is really likely. Yeah, I knew the Wooden Girl was behind the call. Sorry for not telling you. But the two of us have some history that needs settling, and I doubt she’ll leave us alone until I deal with it. If I’m lucky everything will be fine and I can tell you all of this in person. But I doubt that.

Lucy, there’s enough money in here for you to make it to Maine. Go to the address I’ve written on the back of this. The man who lives there’s named Colton. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll take care of you, until our bosses get their heads out of their ass and do something about this.

I-330, Lisa, sorry I didn’t trust you to when you first came. I’ve kept some tabs on the Scoobies through the years, even after they stopped calling themselves by that name. Might be helpful. I don’t know too much, except that they’ve been getting a lot of off the record money lately, coming in from private donors. Their biggest contributor is Jacob Olmstead, head of the Innsmouth Reconstruction Foundation. If you’re looking for answers, that’s the best place to go. Good luck.

And one last time. Lucy, I’m sorry. Maybe if I’m lucky the Plague Doctor will jump out at the last moment and kill me, so I can spend the afterlife kicking back drinks with your dad, just like the old days. Though he might be a bit mad at me for how badly I screwed things up in the end.”

Lucy sniffled when she read the last line, and wiped her eyes. “What did the end mean?” I asked. “About the Plague Doctor and the afterlife?”

“There’s rumors,” Lucy said, “that whenever someone is killed by a Fear, or dies while under the control of a Fear, their soul is taken by that Fear.”

“It’s not a rumor.” 330 said. “It’s the truth. And anyone who dies from any other cause is taken by the Archangel.”

More heavy news to take in. Everyone who dies? “All the people who died tonight…?”

“Are going to spend the rest of eternity being tortured by either the Archangel or the Wooden Girl.”

I thought back to the man I’d shot. I’d killed him, and as a result, he….
Too much. Too much for me to think about.


I’ll skip ahead to the present. We’re on the move again. Destination, Innsmouth, Massachusetts. We offered to give Lucy a ride eastward, but she said that she’d make her own way. Wants some time to herself to think over things.

I’m trying to push everything out of my mind, but it all keeps coming back. I killed a man. 330’s got her arm… thing. Matthew died.
Maybe 330 has the right idea. Just drink until it stops hurting.
Heh, I’m starting to sound almost like an alcoholic….

-Lisa