Marionette Doll

A Doll's Tale

My life was a canvas of red oil paint. The paint that never dried, as was my job was never fully done. I was a killer of killers. Hired by the government to finish the things they couldn't bring themself to do.
The job was fairly easy. I simply lured in my prey with my eyes and body, then when they least expected, wrapped my silk fingers around their abrasive frame. No one ever thought of me as a killer because of the pure attire I dressed in. My body was too hypnotic for any man to care. My short hair allowed for the showcase of a small frame. Too small to be of any danger. My voice was slow and soft. I made sure every syllable strained against my tongue to keep my audience entertained. I was perfect. I was the embodiment of the perfect assassin.
My newest job stood out to me. "He has kidnapped multiple women. He dresses them up as dolls and places them in boxes to showcase their bodies. The women are left in abandoned buildings. This man shows enormous skill so it's clear he has been killing for a long time. Reward: $500,000". He has killed one of the children of an FBI agent, so they set out for assassination rather than taking it through the court system. Another example of the government abusing its power. I couldn't say that I would do anything differently if I was in that position. "500,000 for one guy? Are they crazy? I guess it's not that large of a price considering the crime." I think to myself, careful to be weary of listening ears.
I spend the next few hours searching my laptop in my room for the latest whereabouts of my target. Paying special attention to where the hit spots are on the map to find the general killing area of my target. It seemed he was rather tied to killing just outside of the main city. A thought comes, "He might live in the city if he has so far refused to kill there." Mass killers this talented tend to stay away from their homes when killing as to not draw investigators to their house.
Finding my target and hunting them down gave me such a thrill. It made my legs shake from how intense my excitement was. To track my target before they even knew there was a price on their head was the best feeling. To know their guard was down and I get to wrap myself around them, restraining them from leaving. The danger entangled with my job makes my blood pump. My heart was fueled by my desire to kill and I was content with that.
"Bingo," I say with satisfaction. I had found the circle in which I believe my target lived. Next step: hunting.
I had traveled to the city in my black Jeep Grand Wagoneer: a car big enough for protection, but nothing that will stand out as a government vehicle and make my target aware of me. I walked inside my first stop: the bar.
———
"Their eyes." I seethe. Their beautiful, diluted eyes create a whirlwind of emotions through my body. Oh, how I wished to take them for my own. To be so close I could truly see their vision. "Their hands." My hands now gripping the bar table with knuckle-whitening strength. The hands drag people down to their lowest before finally releasing them from the prison created by their presence. I had killed so many, yet none yielded my urge for the golden prize: Red Silk. A rather simple name for someone whose silk-like hands are dripping with red blood. I craved their body for a reason unknown to me. My long hiatus of death was broken due to my insufferable need for silk surrounding my soul. I needed them like I needed air to breathe.
I had been watching my doll for months now. I had hidden cameras in their home, disguised as an electrician. I had cut the wires the previous night in preparation. It was art, what I did. It was artistic the way I broke myself to free myself from my sick head. It was artistic in the way I found the love of my life at the same hand as I found my weakness. Perhaps that is what true love is: weakness and love at the same.
The drinks began to stack beside me through the night. Rather than killing another to attempt to satisfy my head, I decided to drink away my sorrows in a small bar in the city. The alcohol in my blood illuminated me; creating warmth where none was. The isolation of my existence left an icy cap around my body. I was never truly warm. Not until I saw them kill all those months ago.
The alcohol content in my body must have increased suddenly, for I felt the warmth of them through my body again. My eyes jerk around the room, rushing to search for the person responsible for my new wardrobe of emotions.
Short red hair, falling at an angle to sharpen their crisp features. Loose clothes adorned a tall, slim body. Perfectly accentuating the rough features with soft textures.
I knew why they were here: I had led them. Not too long ago I killed an FBI agent's kid in an attempt to bring their attention to me. Previous to the murder, I had met the agent at a coffee shop where I made small talk about a new so-called "assassin" in town. To make it not seem suspicious, I talked of the Red Silk as if it were simply a rumor. However, I had a feeling the agent would find their way to the Red Silk in a short time, and in a short time they did. It was simply 2 weeks past the murder and I was already found. Nevertheless, my plan must continue.
Oh, how saddened I was to find out the reason my doll would know about me was purely for harmful intent. However, knowing I was wanted to outweigh my sorrows. I love puzzles. This whole situation was a puzzle. Two people clinging onto one another, but trying to keep themselves a secret. One wrong move and the whole show falls down instantly, "the cat is out of the bag" as they say.
———
I searched the room for my target, putting on a small smile to make myself not stand out. I wanted to fit in to help hide my presence and not let anyone think I was working for the government.
I saw him sitting at a bar seat near the bathrooms. I quickly try to rush through the crowd and push myself towards the area in a way that would not upset those around me. However, as fast as I was to get closer, he was gone.
Finding a seat far away from where he was, but still having his seat in my vision I sit down and get comfortable. Now was the time for patience. After waiting 40 minutes for him to return I give up and go home to plot out my next plan. The first spot was rarely the winning spot. It is a tedious job, the one I do. I was perplexed as to why he would leave once I walk in since he should be unaware that I was after him.
After returning home I go back to my laptop, trying to find more information on my target. I studied the murder cases as far as I could go back. Due to his skill, the government believes there were previous killings we have yet to link him to. My plan was to link him to those killings we assumed he had to find more out about him that I could.
After searching for hours there were 5 cases that could be linked to my target. None of them particularly stood out to me besides the first one. The first of his murders I connected was a violent one. I could tell this was a kill fueled by anger by they violent way the victim was murdered. The victim had an almost resemblance to me. With sharp feathers and a tall build, we almost looked related.
For the first time in a while, my job made me feel ill. I decided to rest until the morning and give my mind a break.
———
I felt my bones pulsate between my flesh. I was so close to them, so close I could almost smell them. But it was too much for me, too much rested on them and I meeting later for me to let myself meet them now. I wanted our meeting to be special. I wanted their mind to be clouded with me, like how I was with them. The meeting would fill both of our heads with thoughts of each other for decades to come. I know it will fill mine.
The time, while it was not now, was near. I was planning a meeting that the gods above could smile down upon. I wanted the gods to see what I was envisioning and be inspired to create something just as beautiful, just as thought out as I had. However strong or powerful a god might be was no match for my great strength. I could take in a victim and, like a god, lay down divine judgment. I did not need to hide in the sky as they did, and that is what makes them jealous of me. The gods are jealous of my ability to be on Earth and still enact the same abilities.
Oh, how soft silk was when it encapsulated my body. How comforting the pressure of the soft cocoon was when they dragged you in and held you down. I craved the attention of the bright green irises upon my own. We could meet each other's souls through our eyes. We could meet in perfect harmony where our souls would feed off of each other like vultures on a dead carcass. Our souls would dance like ice skaters: smooth until the blade meets ice. The sound of an entire orchestra could not harmonize as well as we will.
Tomorrow, my doll, tomorrow we shall sail the seas of red silk entangled with poisoned knives. Oh, how pretty you would look choking on the tip of my blade. The beautiful fear in your eyes when you realize you no longer have control. The shaking, the tears, and the breathing all set me off. To kill was to me a breath of mint-filled air. It set my soul ablaze and cooled me all at once. The perfect poison.
———
I awoke to a chilled room. The blinds were closed helping to insulate the cold air. I completed my morning routine of showering, cleaning, and making myself food with ease. While cleaning I found an odd piece of paper on my floor. It looked to have been smeared ink written on torn paper. Paranoid thoughts start to roam free in my head. "Who's letter is this?" I wondered. Perplexed as my anxious mind aided me little in calming myself. I have an alarm system. Someone would need the code in order to get into my house.
The air around me felt thin and my heart began to race. "Now is not the time for panic," I said to myself in hopes to regain control. After a while I had finally calmed my breathing, now it was time for answers.
I put the paper in the light to attempt to make out the lettering to no avail, it was merely smudged ink on paper. Every direction I turn the paper made no difference in the eligibility of the words. In my last attempt, I remembered a time in school when I learned to write letters to another with black light ink. The black light ink was invisible to the naked eye unless a black light was shone on it.
"A watchful eye of the doll is smart in times of danger."
"What?" I questioned out loud. Re-reading the statement sparked another wave of panic throughout me. "Danger," I ask. What danger am I in? I understand that my employment comes with flaws such as this, however, I had always been careful of my surroundings. I made sure no one saw me. I never took up a partner for fear of anyone knowing who I am. I am someone who flies under the radar of everyone, even my victims.
It began to feel like the walls were closing in on me. Every corner there was the possibility of the eye of a stranger who infiltrated my home. My lungs failed me as I began to choke on the air. The world around me faded from light to dark in the unsteady rhythm of my heartbeat. Finally, I fell to the ground in a dreamless slumber.
I woke up in the same position that I fell in. My head throbbing telling me I hit it on my way down. Quickly, I leave my apartment. I gather the necessities including my gun for safety. I was a person with many talents with my weapons, as needed in my industry. However, I rarely chose a gun. I decided today that I would make an exception.
My idea was to finish my latest job and ditch town. I could no longer live in the city where I was being watched. As I drove my car around to my next destination, the place where the first victim lay, I steadily kept the fear of watchful eyes. Every car driving around me was a suspect in my eyes. Every person alongside the road was after me. Every camera at the stop lights was recording for me in specific. "I have to leave," I continued to tell myself, "leave and never return."
I closed and reopened my eyes slowly, "I am an assassin. I target my victims and hunt them down. A simple taste of my own medicine is nothing that should affect me. It is simply the gods collecting the taxes of my sins."
I arrived at the abandoned farmhouse to go investigate the first scene. There may be clues left behind by past investigators that would be useful to me now.
The barn was surrounded by plains for miles. I had lost signal on my phone long ago when traveling to arrive here. My breathing finally relaxed in full. I was alone here, there was no danger in isolation.
———
I had set up the place beautifully. Pictures of my doll hung off of the barn walls. My plan was to lead them here and show them all of the work I had done. I would tell tales of the victims who would scream, "I am the red silk" for hours on end to fill my need for them. I would tell how I craved to hold the porcelain arms of the doll down while I fed on their life. My blade was slick with poison and hungry for blood.
Murdering the government kid was the best decision of my life. It led my doll in my direction at last. I had been watching them for months, sneaking into their home after watching them put the code in a few times. Usually, they would cover it with their hand, but if they were tired enough it was simply no hard task to see the code, '4159'. Four simple numbers that had once kept us apart, simply useless against the eyes of god that I have.
I would place sleeping medicine in their pre-made dinners so I could enter the next night with ease. I started just walking in to admire them while they slept for a second, careful as to not give myself away. But not long after did I begin stealing items like clothes and small accessories for my growing collection. Those too were strung on the walls and on shelves to showcase my doll. The place was perfect. At last, it was time to welcome them.
I heard a car pull up to the barn and my body went rigid. "Who is that?" I pondered. This place was perfect, it was off the nearest road by miles. It was completely isolated. Who could have found me?
Walking over to a hole in the wall I investigate who could be there. Oh. Oh. It was my doll. How filled with glee I am now. This was it. It was proof that our souls were connected, that we were meant to be near each other. It was proof that it was not just I who longed to be closer, who felt the pull of attraction between us both. It was time to put my plan to fruition. While sooner than expected, it was not unwelcome. It made my job easier.
———
I walked into the barn without hesitating. I had left my gun in my car as I did not think it would be of use. How idiotic. Unaware of the car to my right, hidden in the bushes. Unaware of the danger lurking behind the thick wooden door. Unaware that pulling the door open would set my fate in stone. A fate that was so gruesome and cruel that miles of people would be in distress. A doll I was, and a doll I would become.
Entering the building, each step a letter in a signature on a contract. The contract required the life and soul of a person who has committed many atrocities in their time. And a sinful person was I. Taking the lives of others with no regard for the emotions of death felt all around me, me. I lost myself in my lust for death, and in that lust, I found my own death.
A rock made fast contact with my head, surely bringing severe injury. My limp body fell against the hard concrete of the abandoned barn floor. I never saw it coming. I never saw my own demise. Perhaps this is my karma. The gods were truly collecting a debt, a debt that grew mountains. Mountains with snow adorned the top. Under the mountains were ground with so much pressure, pain, and sorrow. But no one cared for the ground, they only ever saw the beautiful mountain. They only ever saw my accomplishments.
———
My mouth was watering so much it seeped from the sides. I finally had them in my grasp. I carefully placed them on the table, using straps to hold down the porcelain figure. Careful details went into this step: preparation. I want my doll to be as comfortable as they can be right now for in not too short of time, they would be in pain. It hurt me to hurt them, but the beauty of the outcome outweighed our pain. I know they will truly shine under the bright stage lights. They will be perfectly limp as I control their limbs and create a beautiful story. I would tell tales of their kills. How they so brutally tricked their victims into a false sense of security before twisting their necks. How they severed the lives of so many short for money. It was beautiful to me how they would do something so cruel for money. The lives of so many scarred for one to live peacefully. We are one and the same, my doll and I. We are meant to be.
As they begin to come to I begin my work. Raking my rough hands up and down their arm, taking grip at the shoulder and their arm. I pulled up and down with great speed and strength, the beautiful cry of a doll letting me know I was completing my task. Their shoulder was now disconnected from their body. Perfect. I continued my practice in a steady rhythm, excited for the final show.
I pointed out each artifact that I had stolen. How close I was to them without them being aware. How many times I could have killed them in their bliss to my existence? The mistakes the assassin made led them to me. I showed them each picture that I had taken of them in private. Some of them had been when they were sleeping, some of them had been in public, and some of them showed my doll doing atrocious acts. They thought they had been so careful, yet I was more so careful. I triumphed against all odds and scored the best prize: the life of my lover.
With each passing moment, I could feel us growing closer. I could feel our souls connecting in a way I had never felt before with my victims. This was my showcase of true love. No matter how much they object and scream I would continue to show them how much I love them. True love is endless pain, is it not?
I knew they would be the perfect doll, so frail and fragile, yet so strong at the same time. The ropes will wrap around their body perfectly, constricting groves in their skin. Oh, how sensitive the body is. With every crack and pop, you can see the sweat pour off of the skin, you can see how the muscles tear in objection but submission when I pull at the body. The blood flows beautifully in an attempt to keep the body safe. How stressed the body must be in this much pain.
The assassin, who once stood strong, was writing in pain under me. Begging for mercy that fell on empty ears. "Not for much longer," I calmed them. "Soon you will be beautiful."
What I do is art. This is why the gods submit to me and envy my ability. I am a professional in my field. I mean look at me, I am creating a true masterpiece. A human marionette doll.
The once strong frame that held my doll up was pliant against my arms. I had fully dislocated every limb, finally finishing my preparation. It took 3 terribly long hours. My poor doll was so tired from the pain that their eyes could hardly stay open. It was almost laughable how hard the body attempted to thrive in these circumstances. One would hope the body would simply give out in this pain, however, the body chooses to continue to stay alive.
Picking up the limp doll, I bring them to the back of the barn where I have ropes set in place for the show. Carefully, I wrap a rope around each arm, each leg, and one around the torso. I strung each rope on a high piece of wood on the ceiling, connecting the ends of the ropes to a device to control their body. It was coming together.
Finally, the last step: carving. I bring out my blade which is dripping with poison. This is where the ending comes in, the climax of the story. I begin to laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more. I was just so happy to see all of my hard work pay off.
Walking over to the pliant form and I can see the fear build into their system. Pain is one thing, but a knife is a certain death. How does it feel, doll, to have your life taken from you without your control? How does the fear feel as it begins to control you? How is your breathing while your heart begins to race as the adrenaline kicks in? What are your thoughts at the last moment?
"Please, I am begging you. Please let me go." A small voice said to me. Their throat was clearly worn from the earlier screaming and begging. I smiled at them, and they looked hopeful. I continued to smile as I drew the blade closer to them, "Now, now my doll. You are going to be beautiful you know. People will tell tales of your beauty far and wide after you leave. You see, death is the most beautiful act that can happen in our lives. In death, we become a masterpiece."
Tears begin to shed as more pleas drip from their chapped lips as I brought the blade to their skin, sinking in. I carved the phrase that build their foundation, what the people knew them by, "Red Silk." This would show respect to the gods. Unlike the gods, who take without respect for the people, I would do the opposite. That is all the gods do: take and take and take. I would be the change the world needed.
The gods stole someone very precious to me, my lost lover. They had always been so kind, so strong too. We fit together perfectly. We never argued or had large disagreements. We were perfect. But the gods saw their beauty and the gods wanted my lover to themselves, so they stole them. The gods controlled my body and forced divine judgment upon my lover through me. How it hurt to see my lifeless lover in my arms. How I wailed at their last breath. This would surely please the gods. I could finally rest in peace knowing that the gods were satisfied with what they took from me. With my sacrifice, the gods would finally know what they had done. As my doll's soul rises, I shall object myself to the same fate and hide behind its beauty. As the gods come to take another of my lovers I would come from my hiding and end them. Then I would be on my rightful throne as the leader of life. I could truly decide who lives and who dies. I could finally do what is impossible on mortal Earth, bring someone back.
Through the chorus of screams I worked, through choked tears of the pain that my lover had done, I continue my job. I had to bring them back.
Once the carving was complete it was time for the show.
———
My throat was so raw and dry from the screams I emitted in hopes of freedom. No one knew I was here because I never built close connections with people. No one would come to save me. There was no hope in screaming, as it fell on empty ears. However, I could not hold back the will to get free.
My body throbbed numbingly from the pain. The blood began to pour from my open wound, and as it did the wound burned. My vision began to fade out and back in, however it was peaceful. The aching of my body began to lessen as my vision became harder to focus on. Finally, my body was numb.
The ropes around my limbs constricted and pulled my limp body up to a standing position. The man started to sway my body around in dancing motions. I appeared to be playing the part of a marionette doll. Was I prettier this way? Was the way my body was fully pliant to any motion beautiful to the gods?
The horror of the situation now finally began to settle with my soul. I was going to die. These moments were truly my last. Once the adrenaline wears off of my body I will begin to feel the excruciating pain again. It was nauseating hearing the sounds of my flesh rip and tear from the bone as he dislocated all of my limbs.
This man had been stalking me for months before I knew of his existence. He was eerily like me in that way. The way I used to lure in my victims without them knowing of my existence. I would use natural charm and my body. All he needed was strategy and he could lure in victims like a spider with insects. Hiding their web in the open for a stupid insect to get stuck in. Once you were stuck, there was no return.
He had stolen items of clothing, trash I had thrown out, and small items around the house. He watched me every move for months without end, yet I never even got the feeling I was being watched. This man is a true assassin. I am nothing compared to him.
Perhaps it is fate that I die here. That I die in the way my victims did, without knowledge beforehand or control over my passing. It was a fitting end for such a sinful person as I.
My once throbbing vision became fully black. My numb limbs became a fully numb body. I could no longer feel the air enter and exit my lungs. I could no longer feel my erratic and unsteady heartbeat throughout my chest in a futile attempt to save my life.
I have found peace in death. At last will my head is silent.
———
My doll had fallen it seems. Now it was time for the final act. The final step is bringing them back. Oh, how excited I was to finally hold them in my arms once again. How it would feel to hold them in my arms yet again as we bask away in the sun. We would make conversation with no intended purpose minus the pure enjoyment we gathered from being near the other person.
I raised the body higher, so as to appeal to the gods in the sky. They would be looking down now. The gods are seeing what I am capable of. Taking a hand on my trusted blade, I stab through my chest in full, slicing a major artery in my heart. I began to laugh and sing songs of joy with interrupting moments of coughing up blood. The pain I did not mind, for I knew the pain would bring me true happiness once more. Finally, I too found my peace in death. My body fell limp against the hard, concrete floor.
I found no angels on the other side. Somehow, I found something truly frightening.