House of Dolls

Prologue

        Damp and pale stone bricks shone with a dim gray light in an immense, bitter cellar. They glinted whenever they were briefly illuminated by a few flickering lanterns affixed periodically on the walls of the basement. The small candle-lit lamps cast moving shadows throughout the large underground expanse, flaring and sputtering as they smoldered. Still, they offered little in the way of light, and nothing in warmth. 

        Six tables were spaced throughout the room, their wood splintered and fractured. They creaked with dampness and age, even with no weight to cause such groaning. Dark red stains patterned the floor and walls, having progressively seeped into the brick and wood. Large burlap sacks had been stuffed in a corner and reeked of death and decay, and a dark and sticky liquid percolated around the bottom. Two buckets sat by a solitary ladder, filled with  a dripping crimson fluid that ran onto the floor and oozed into the cracks of the rocks. The latter led up to a small square hatch, sealed firmly, the only way out of the basement. Tucked in the corner stood a large, thick,  and empty glass tube. It reached from floor the ceiling, large enough to host a human body. A glass panel had been opened on the front of the tube, its previous contents now laying on the farthest wooden table in the corner of the basement. A silver tray stood next to it; containing scalpels, gauze, surgical scissors and all varieties of other medical equipment.

        In the room there were two figures; the first  a grown woman, standing stiffly. Her muscles were rigid, her body tensely hunched over the table. With an aching groan she leaned away from her work and stared at it, astonished at what lay before her. Her short raven hair fell about her face and stuck to her skin, which was wet with perspiration. She forced her taut muscles to act with grace as she worked meticulously, determined to make no error.

      The second figure lay on top of a white sheet that had been spread over the cracked table the woman was bent over; a little girl with pallid skin and lilac hair that reached below her waist. All of her limbs had been wrapped in bloodied gauze. She seemed so breakable 

        The woman smiled as she removed one of the more thoroughly soaked bandages, plucking out loose stitches in the skin of the girl's forearm, lacing the gash up once more, her hands sure and steady despite their rigidness. She worked silently as she wrapped it again, smiling softly to herself as she unwrapped more and more. She stared at her specimen, a small child clothed in a simple dark red dress, the same color as the stains on the stones. A white blouse was layered underneath it, long ivory sleeves covering many of the scars and bandages panted across her body.

     The woman pulled one of the stark white sleeves down, removing the stitches from sight. She wiped a hand across her brow and stretched her back when she finished her alteration, tucked her loose hair behind her ears, and removed her surgical mask and gloves. She set her instrument down on the silver tray, flexing her tired fingers.

        "Amazing..." she breathed. Her black hair framed her angular face as she leaned forward again to have a final look of her work. She stared at the masterpiece in front of her, grinning to herself. The child's pale skin seemed to be glowing in the dim of the laboratory lights. She shivered, but not from the cold. This was amazing, exhilarating, everything she'd hoped for and more.

        "She's just like the ones that father used to make." Her eyes gazed lovingly down at her creation. She leaned forward and whispered strange and unintelligible words into the girl's ear. The young girl's golden eyes were slowly revealed as she lifted her lids, and she stared at the ceiling for a moment before she propped herself up with the palms of her hands and steadily looked about the room, a sudden air of sureness around her. The woman smiled warmly at her and placed her hand on top of the child's.

        "..W-where..?" Her voice was high and lilting, it wavered slightly with apprehension. She met the woman's eyes evenly, taking her in coldly.

        "Incredible," the woman exhaled and squeezed her fragile hand, "It's alright. You mustn't be afraid of me." She smiled at her again, "I'm Aya." she took a deep breath, nearly at a loss for words at her success.

        "Your mother.... I'm so happy to finally have you. "

        "...Mother?" the girl repeated the word with a puzzled look on her face.

"Yes. I'll take care of you. You will never be alone... and now neither will I... I-I have something for you."

        She smiled at the girl's empty face as she reached around and tied a large red bow into her bright lilac hair. It looked so similar to the one she had had as a child. Aya placed her hands on the girl's shoulders, pride shone in her eyes.

        "It was mummy's... You look just how I imagined you would." She gripped her in a tight hug, closed her eyes and relished the moment. A small tear escaped and slid down her cheek as relief flooded through her body.

        She helped the petite child off the table, leading her gently towards the ladder and away from the dark of the room. Aya reached up above the girl and pushed heavily with her forearm to force the cellar door open. Light came flooding into the space, leaving a small square of sunshine on the stone floor. The child flinched at the sudden brightness, stepping away from it. Aya supported her as they ascended, her eyes constantly flickering over her delicate body, already worried for her health.

         The child looked back into her mother's face, smiling and reassuring. With a blank look on her face she turned forward again and climbed the last few steps, Aya's hand on her back, gently pushing her up in support.

          Aya knelt down and carefully latched the cellar door again,her face smeared with blood . She took hold of the small girl's hand.

         "Follow mummy to your father. He'll be so happy to meet you. " She knelt down and embraced her daughter tightly, clinging to her as if she were the only person on the earth. She moved some of her lilac hair from her face lovingly, "My finest masterpiece. Perfection."

        "I'm a m-masterpiece?" the child's speech was still jumpy, but she rapidly improving.

        "Yes. But much more than that. You are ...Everything." she whispered in her ear and pulled back, holding her at an arms length. Aya pushed a strand of her short raven hair behind her ear and wiped another blood stain from her cheek, smearing it further. She stood slowly, her eyes never leaving her creation for a moment, until she finally turned and began to lead the doll-like girl down the hallway of the bright cottage.

        "Mother... Who am I?" she stared up at her mother, a blank and unemotional expression glossed on her face.

        "You are someone very special..." she turned her head back to her as she led her child down the hallway, "You are my creation. My daughter. Ellen."

                                                           " Ellen Drevis."