Red Discord

Chapter 5

There were seven total people, Kassy counted, all seated at the dining room table. Seven older women who looked like the came straight out of the 1900s she thought to herself as she examined the people who stared right back at her. All eyes were on the woman who slowly made her way to the table, with her bloodied garb and reddened face, she stood out like a sore thumb. Her vision was blurred and distorted and her head pounded with every step or small noise she heard as she continued to walk forward toward the small crowd of people. She stood next to her mother, looking down at her with glazed eyes. “Where’s my brother?”

The women looked at each other. As if they had some silent agreement worked in those seconds, Barbara’s calm and motherly voice spoke, “Why, my dear Kassy, James is upstairs in his room sleeping for the day. He told me he hadn’t been sleeping well the past week and couldn’t make it to diner. You know how those artists are.” 

Kassy snapped. “You’re fucking crazy, you old hag!” she screamed, thrashing her arms about. “I just checked before I came here; you have nothing on me.” 

“On the contrary, my dear daughter, you’re nothing but a walking zombie as you are.” Her face darkened and her voice deepened in warning. “Please behave well in front of our guests.” She clicked her fingers.

A second later, a large man in a black suit appeared behind Kassy, grabbing her arms from behind. He was all talk man with muscles that stuck out everywhere, a professional weightlifter sort of guy, with a eyes that looked ready to kill at any moment. He drug her off to her room, her kicking and screaming having no effect on the man whatsoever. She is thrown back into her room by the man, who then proceeded to lock the door. Kassie pounded on the door with all her might, but not a soul can hear her, not her pounding or her utter sobbing. The only thing it was doing was making her hands extremely red with pain.

There was a sudden stare from behind her. Some eyes were watching her intently, too intently for her liking. Her back straightened with a chill. Behind her was only a few small doll that were alined neatly on a table underneath the window seal. It was a handmade doll with curly blond hair, blue marble eyes, and a cute, little bonnet with a matching dress and shoes. The doll reminded her of her childhood when she would stay home and play with dolls much like this one when her friends were all too busy to play. With the memories floating inside her head and a curled lip, Kassy gently picked up the doll, moving her hair and unwrinkling the dress. Her face started to drop as she continued to feel the doll. It was like she was touching the skin of another human, not the cold plastic skin of a doll. She examined the doll up and down. Her face became paler and paler with the realization that the doll was becoming more and more human like: the skin soft and tender, the hair frizzy and dry, but still soft to the touch. Kassie took her nail and scratched the dolls hand. It turned white then faded into the pale color it was originally. The doll wasn’t made of plastics and glass and metal; no, this doll was far more intricate, for it was made of human parts. Kassy fell her her knees with a wail, her eyes burning from the tears, her throat on fire from the yelling and screaming.

.

The women were still seated in the dining room with a less than welcoming atmosphere, much like when you put two starving animals together in a caged room.

“And what do we do with the boy now?” asked one woman. “If we don’t do anything the girl will surely find him sooner or later.”

“Then all we have to do is convince her that the boy died in the explosion as well,” another one chimed in. “We all saw what she looked liked like when she came down here—she wasn’t anything more than a walking zombie, and it’s much too literal in her case.”

“Or we could just decide on who gets the boy right now,” one of the older ones said, a women around her mid-seventies, at the earliest.

“She’ll find out if we do anything funny here, though.”

“Then,” another again said, “there’s no other choice; he must go.”

“No.” Barbara placed her hands in front of her on the table and folded them, looking up into the women's eye with supreme authority. “James, my only son, will be used to make the most exquisite doll we have ever made, the most exquisite doll the world has ever seen. After all, he is my son. My blood runs through his veins. No man would better fit this role, don’t you agree, ladies?”

It was then that the butler walked into the room. All mouths shut as he bent down to whisper something into Barbara’s ear. 

“She fainted?” Barbara asked, shocked. “What a useless girl. I guess there’s no helping it. Bring her to her my room.” 

The butler bowed. “My apologies for taking your time, Madame.” He turned around to leave, but Barbara tugged on his sleeve, stopping him dead in his tracks. 

“If you are to bring her to my room, you must be careful that she doesn’t find 'that.’ Do you understand? You must hide it well. There should be no suspicion about it.” 

“Yes, Madame.” He nodded his head, a sign he understood what she meant, and walked back up to the room that he had locked Kassy in. 

She had collapsed on the floor by the window, the doll’s headless body by her hand and its body thrown to the side wall by her bed. Her right eye was limp and kept flickering. It was like carrying a dead body, was the man’s thought at looking at her, except it was worse. Still, he picked her up, like a feather, and carried her off down the corridor to the last room in the hallway. It had a large, purple double door, an eye catching entrance anywhere. Inside continued with the purple theme—the room was in the shape of an octagon with a small balcony off to the left side, along with much larger bathroom which was placed where the bedroom on the left side should have been—, this time adding some black to mix the colors. Only a vase on the side dresser provided any color in the room. Kassy was set on the bed. The drapes over the bed were pulled after the man had tucked her in. He walked over to the rightmost dresser and pushed down the four flowers that stuck out of the vase. After the flowers were pushed down, he left the room.