𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘 || douma

Prologue

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𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑁𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸
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Are memories something to be treasured? You don't remember much about your childhood, your childhood was not exactly filled with laughter and happiness, so you think it was the reason why you don't remember most of it. When something is not blissful, it is bound to be forgotten easily.

What you do remember was an old woman talking about stringed-puppets. "Everyone is a slave to something," she would say.

"Every living being is bound to perish in time. Therefore, everyone is a slave of time. And we, as slaves, are simply stringed-puppets. Some of us can see the strings, while others chose to ignore it."

You have long forgotten most of the things that occurred when you were young. Up to the point where you came to this place when you heard people talking about a certain paradise.

There, you met a man who welcomed you. You remember the first thing you noticed were his eyes, it held the color of the halo around a full moon. His eyes were enchantingly beautiful.

He said his name is Douma and he took you in. As a demon, he only consumes the flesh of young beautiful women. When you went to his cult, you were much too young and you barely have any nutrients in your small body so consuming you was never worth it.

So he decided to keep you by his side until you grow up and provide him with enough nourishment. Until then, Douma had taken his time dolling you up because he somehow found it enjoyable.

You learned in the last ten years of spending time with him that Douma is a capricious individual, his moods change at a flip of a coin. And he never likes it when you refuse his gifts. You found that he enjoys dressing you up in expensive and beautiful clothing, so like a doll you didn't protest and let him do as he pleases.

That's right, you are simply his plaything, his doll, his marionette. He will eventually get bored and discard you. But you wonder when and you wonder how.

You were a mere nine year old girl when you met him for the first time, and in those ten years as you grow up into a fine young lady, Douma didn't change once. He remained as the enthralling young man you met when you were a child.

And in the past decade, he gave you everything you needed, until you don't need anything anymore but he still showered you with material things. Beautiful kimonos made of the finest of silks, hair ornaments shining with luxurious stones, expensive perfume and stunning shoes. He would discard the clothes that you had grown out of and buy you a dozen new ones.

Sometimes he would give you even the things that simply catch your attention for a short moment. And for years he drilled into you that you can have whatever you want.

But you should have known that there will come a time when something like that will happen.

One day, when the members of his cult gathered, you met a woman. You complimented her hair ornament because it was pretty, it really was and you said you liked it. You didn't realize that Douma had heard it and because you liked it, there is not a thing you like that you wouldn't get.

A few nights after, he brought you the hair ornament. But there's no way the woman would have given it since the hair ornament was a gift from her husband. Douma put it on you himself so you didn't notice it, the blood from the ornament that had dried.

Only when you took it off did you see it.

It was then you found out that he's killed the woman to get the hair ornament before he gave it to you. And all the things you found pretty on other women, Douma would kill them and take those items and gave it to you.

Struck with guilt, you used the hair ornament to slit your own wrist. But falling into oblivion was a fleeting moment and you came back to your consciousness soon after.

"What...did you do...to me?"

"You really shouldn't have done that, Y/n," he said, stroking your hair before he leaned close to you, eyes that held a dangerous and intimidating glint and only then did you notice the kanjis written in them.

"Upper Moon...Six?"

You had been his plaything for years, dressing you up in expensive things and showering you with luxurious gifts. You had been Douma's longest plaything, his doll that is the most precious to him.

So spending another century with you wouldn't be that bad, and so, you became Douma's pretty little marionette. He would break you and fix you, like a doll that had fallen into this demon's sadistic hands. A man whose mood changes without caution.

You wonder, if there was even a sliver of time when he sees you as something more than just a marionette. If there was a time when he sees you as a young woman capable of being loved like one.

But then again, he said it himself.

"Just stay as my pretty little marionette forever, Y/n."

After all, you are nothing but his pretty little marionette, nothing more and nothing less than that. Still, you had hoped...

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