Something Strange

Colin (part 6)

He knew Katherine would be tired upon arrival, and that was ideal time to try to take her down. While she was a strong witch and capable of instantly killing Colin, if he worked fast, he was sure he would have a chance against her. Relying on his wind magic he had been honing in secret, Colin prepared an array of weapons that would be launched by his magic when the witch would arrive.

It was not a perfect plan by any means, but it was the best Colin could come up with at the time: he considered it a clever trap that would surely kill the witch.

Of course, it didn't.

When Katherine arrived, Colin launched his attack a second too late, and Katherine was able to bring them all down, almost hurting Colin himself as a result when the knives, axes and other sharp object swung around the room - one window was even broken as a result of this rain of armory.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Katherine screamed and stormed towards the boy, who desperately tried to use his magic to keep the witch away, but failed. The woman took Colin by his shirt collar and lifted him high up against the wall, instantly making him choke.

"All these years!" she screamed at him in a manner more terrifying than Colin had ever heard, and kept shaking the small boy against the wall. "All these years, and this is how you repay me!"

Colin didn't reply. He couldn't, and he didn't know what he would have said had he even been able to form any words from his choking.

"I should have never taught you any magic," the witch finally spoke and let Colin go, making the boy crash down onto the hard, wooden floor. "I knew your core was strong, but I didn't.... I wouldn't have thought..."

Still angry and visibly so, she raised her hand and showed her long, red nails she now pointed at Colin.

"I can't afford to kill you, I don't destroy what I can use," she spoke and grinned, but angrily, full of spite. "But we have to do something about that core."

All of a sudden Colin felt like he was body was on fire, flames eating every inch of his flesh and bone slowly. He screamed, clutching his chest and trying to stand, up but his body didn't cooperate with him, and so he had no other choice but to endure the flames he couldn't see, but which he most certainly could feel all over his body. His vision was twisting and turning, black and white chasing each other across his field of view, and his ears rang so loud he could almost hear the sounds of the netherworld whispering forgotten, ancient words to him.

And when it all was finally over, Colin gasped for air and wanted to vomit, but nothing came out.

"What did you do to me?!" he screamed with a raspy voice full of pain.

"Look for yourself," the witch smiled, revealing her sharp teeth like those belonging to a dog. She then turned around sharply, and without even looking back walked away, locking herself into her workshop.

Colin didn't understand.

The pain was starting to fade now but his vision was still blurry and his head was spinning, as if someone had hit him in the head with a hammer. With pained grunts he stood up, and doing so heard strange, unnatural sounds coming from his body.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Greatly alarmed by this, Colin looked at his hands, and a shriek of terror escaped from him once more.

Where had previously been skin was now something akin to porcelain, smooth, light and unnatural in look, and his joints had been replaced with what he could only describe as doll's round, ball joints. Colin yelped in a mixture of surprise and terror and touched his face, only to realize he could no longer feel proper touch - but what he did feel was enough to tell what had once been skin had now entirely been replaced by the same porcelain smoothness of his hands.

"That hag," he gasped and took a hold of the wall, using it to help himself back up. His legs were weak and wobbly and gave underneath him a few times, but with sheer determination and spite towards the woman who had cursed him he walked over to a mirror.

A doll.

He was a doll; a children's toy.

That's the only way he could understand the way he now looked, to describe to those who couldn't have seen it.

There was still something human in him, the way his face looked; the way it still moved despite not being skin anymore. But his skin now lacked the texture it had once had, and the natural paleness had changed to clearly artificial, painted blush around his eyes, cheeks, nose and lips; redder and glossier than they had ever been, or what any human could naturally achieve.

There was a certain kind of beauty in the precision of these details; the human sort of flaws of his face turned into a perfect symmetry. Perhaps someone would have found the state Colin was now in an improvement, or a blessing, but Colin had never wished for such a thing. Indeed, the state of his appearance was nothing but a curse to him, and once more he felt his head jerking a little, as if about to faint.

Looking at his body and running his almost numb fingers across it while standing in front of the mirror, Colin soon understood the rest of this strange torso was much the same, with careful details that imitated the human body, but were not quite it despite all the details. His joints had been replaced with ball joints all over, hard but light, and he could no longer hear the sound of his heart or feel a pulse around his throat. His body was now artificial, cold and sexless; exactly like that of a mannequin's.

Colin wanted to cry but no tears came out of his glassy eyes ,and so he screamed, he screamed and bounded his hands against the wall, much like he had done upon arriving to this cursed cottage the first time.

And Katherine never said word, never showed her face nor explained him anything. Even after Colin had calmed down and a day would pass, the woman would act like nothing out of ordinary had happened, leaving Colin feel particularly lost and confused of his situation. He soon learned he could no longer eat or drink anything as he couldn't even swallow, and while he could pretend to be asleep, it never was quite like sleeping.

There was no longer physical exhaustion for him, but the mental exhaustion remained, and no amount of resting seemed to take it away.