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Authors: Jw Schnarr
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to travel it.”
“ And why are there only eight of us going to Emerald City?” one of the eight asked.
“ To state it simply, you are defects,” the magician said without emotion. “You see, when you were morphed into Tin Woodsmen, there were certain things about you that were supposed to cease to exist. Among those things were moral reasoning, the bulk of human emotion and your hearts. Of course, as with all creations, there were a few in the batch that didn’t perform as they should.”
Nick thought about how he had felt during the Woodkin massacre. He had felt something similar to regret, a heavy presence in his chest where his heart, even now in the back of the carriage, beat slowly. To Nick, it felt as if his heart wasn’t sure that it was supposed to be beating at all. It felt out of place, alien within the tin housing of its owner.
He also thought about the dreams and how he would wake up screaming. If he had been robbed of a moral compass, surely those dreams would have never surfaced.
“ What will become of us?” Nick asked.
But as he stared into the crystal ball, he saw nothing. There was only the pink glow of light from its surface. He could feel something in his head growing heavy. He felt exhausted all of a sudden…so very tired.
A loud clunk to his right broke his gaze from the ball. As he turned to see what the sound was, he let out a loud yawn. The clunking noise had been one of the other eight Woodsmen toppling over. He appeared to be dead but it was very hard to tell the difference between sleep and death when observing his tin body.
“ He is merely sleeping,” the magician explained. He opened his mouth to add to this but was interrupted by another loud crashing sound. Another of the Tin Woodsmen slid against the carriage seat and bumped into the Woodsman beside him. He had also fallen dead asleep.
Nick opened his mouth to protest. He even felt his fingers gripping tightly to his axe handle so that he could plunge the blade into the magician’s head. But he was too tired. He couldn’t even move his tongue to speak.
“ You will all sleep,” the magician went on. “The Wizard is a kind man and cannot bare to see anything destroyed. You have worked well to this point. It’s just…well, your hearts are getting in the way of your purpose.”
Purpose, Nick thought as sleep wrapped its velvet fingers around him. What purpose is there to come after this? I had no purpose as a man and now my purpose as a Tin Man has come and gone. How dare he speak of purpose to me?
That question went unanswered. He felt his heavy torso lean to the right. His head clinked against the side of the carriage and the last thing Nick Chopper saw before sleep took him was that pink glow from the crystal ball.
Sometime later he heard the sounds of metal on metal. Beneath the clamor, there was heavy breathing and a woman’s voice uttering curses under her breath. He tried to move but felt incredibly sluggish. Not only that, but when he moved his arms, he felt stiff. His arms, his legs, even his head felt as if they weighed tons.
It took a while for him to come around, for his muddied mind to figure out what had happened. He had opened his eyes to that woman’s voice and had resorted back to the life he had lived as a man. His waking mind had temporarily forgotten his other life—the life he had lived as a Tin Man. His arms and legs felt heavy because they were heavy.
But it wasn’t just that. He felt weighed down, as if something were on top of him. With a great effort, he opened his eyes and saw only darkness. He opened his mouth to call out but the task was too much.
From somewhere very close by, he heard the woman again.
“ Wretched tin,” she was saying. “Who thought of such nonsense?”
He felt a clamor as her voice neared him. There was a thunderous crash from somewhere as the reverberations of her movements reached his frame. They coursed through him, tickling him in a peculiar way. He
“ And why are there only eight of us going to Emerald City?” one of the eight asked.
“ To state it simply, you are defects,” the magician said without emotion. “You see, when you were morphed into Tin Woodsmen, there were certain things about you that were supposed to cease to exist. Among those things were moral reasoning, the bulk of human emotion and your hearts. Of course, as with all creations, there were a few in the batch that didn’t perform as they should.”
Nick thought about how he had felt during the Woodkin massacre. He had felt something similar to regret, a heavy presence in his chest where his heart, even now in the back of the carriage, beat slowly. To Nick, it felt as if his heart wasn’t sure that it was supposed to be beating at all. It felt out of place, alien within the tin housing of its owner.
He also thought about the dreams and how he would wake up screaming. If he had been robbed of a moral compass, surely those dreams would have never surfaced.
“ What will become of us?” Nick asked.
But as he stared into the crystal ball, he saw nothing. There was only the pink glow of light from its surface. He could feel something in his head growing heavy. He felt exhausted all of a sudden…so very tired.
A loud clunk to his right broke his gaze from the ball. As he turned to see what the sound was, he let out a loud yawn. The clunking noise had been one of the other eight Woodsmen toppling over. He appeared to be dead but it was very hard to tell the difference between sleep and death when observing his tin body.
“ He is merely sleeping,” the magician explained. He opened his mouth to add to this but was interrupted by another loud crashing sound. Another of the Tin Woodsmen slid against the carriage seat and bumped into the Woodsman beside him. He had also fallen dead asleep.
Nick opened his mouth to protest. He even felt his fingers gripping tightly to his axe handle so that he could plunge the blade into the magician’s head. But he was too tired. He couldn’t even move his tongue to speak.
“ You will all sleep,” the magician went on. “The Wizard is a kind man and cannot bare to see anything destroyed. You have worked well to this point. It’s just…well, your hearts are getting in the way of your purpose.”
Purpose, Nick thought as sleep wrapped its velvet fingers around him. What purpose is there to come after this? I had no purpose as a man and now my purpose as a Tin Man has come and gone. How dare he speak of purpose to me?
That question went unanswered. He felt his heavy torso lean to the right. His head clinked against the side of the carriage and the last thing Nick Chopper saw before sleep took him was that pink glow from the crystal ball.
Sometime later he heard the sounds of metal on metal. Beneath the clamor, there was heavy breathing and a woman’s voice uttering curses under her breath. He tried to move but felt incredibly sluggish. Not only that, but when he moved his arms, he felt stiff. His arms, his legs, even his head felt as if they weighed tons.
It took a while for him to come around, for his muddied mind to figure out what had happened. He had opened his eyes to that woman’s voice and had resorted back to the life he had lived as a man. His waking mind had temporarily forgotten his other life—the life he had lived as a Tin Man. His arms and legs felt heavy because they were heavy.
But it wasn’t just that. He felt weighed down, as if something were on top of him. With a great effort, he opened his eyes and saw only darkness. He opened his mouth to call out but the task was too much.
From somewhere very close by, he heard the woman again.
“ Wretched tin,” she was saying. “Who thought of such nonsense?”
He felt a clamor as her voice neared him. There was a thunderous crash from somewhere as the reverberations of her movements reached his frame. They coursed through him, tickling him in a peculiar way. He
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