fandom one shots.

My Japanese Doll. (clear bad end)

I can't remember much of anything anymore. I can't remember shapes...colours...the faces of my family and friends. The only thing I remember is the first few days here. Ironic how I can't forget the only things I can remember.

When clear came for me I thought my world had been plucked out of monotone white into colour. Before he had arrived I thought i had reached my limits of torture and temperament. But I was wrong, i can't begin to describe how wrong I was.

In that bed with the relentless poking and proding and machines, when Clear arrived I thought it was all over. He had saved me, after helping me out of that room and into his arms. He carried me so gently saying over and over again that 'everything was fine now Oaba-san' 'You will be mine forever Oaba-san' at the time I thought nothing much of it all. I was just glad to see my old friend and the colour he brought with him. But something wasn't right.

He carried me for a long time. Most of the time he stared at me whispering my name with strong dominant eyes. I noticed that though we where traveling we never once left the building. I craved fresh air, I craved colour, I craved food and wind and rain and sun and my grandmother and my friends. There was so many things I wanted to do so many people and things I wanted to see.... How foolish I was.

When we stopped, I looked around and all I could see was a long grey stretch of corridor, If I wasn't mistaken we where underground, from the building I was just captive in. I tried to get out of his embrace but he held me tighter, fingers digging into my flesh bruisingly. Strangled noises escaped my throat and echoed off the tightly compressed walls, but he didn't apologise or loosen his grip instead he looked deep in my eyes with that dominant stare a glint of approval in his smile as he said "dolls can't walk by themselves Oaba-san"

It was then I began to feel fear. Something defiantly wasn't right with Clear, he seemed a lot more asertive and possessive...dangerous...this wassnt how he remembered his friend. He started walking again and we quickly came to this small caged room. It was three walls and a large thick steal bars all along the front where the cage door sat open. It was a bit bigger than a prison cell, although the only thing it possessed was a bed, however the bed didn't have a matrice or even blankets. Just a square green pillow, same colour as Clears scarf. It looked like a shelf almost.

He delicately placed me down onto the pillow. I tried to stand up to stretch but before I could get to my feet I was forced back down. "Stay aoba-san you have to stay still" it was then I noticed the chained that where on the wall cascading down to the bed were not supports for it but separates for me. Clear firmly held my arms as he placed the tight leather on my wrists and crushed my knees as he put them around my ankles. Then he weaved his cold rough hand through my hair and yanked it back as he placed a large leather bond chain to my neck. The whole time I squealed and shouted at him to stop, I tried to appeal to his good nature by explaining to him he didn't have to do this. But the entire time all I got was "you're so cute oaba-san" "I love how adorable you're being oaba-san" "I can't let you go we are going to be together forever. I'm going to make you my doll oba-san. All mine"

At the time I had no idea what he meant. I thought and thought but I couldn't of possibly fathomed the real outcome. The things he has done to me...The things he has repeatedly told me...I really have became his doll.

The first few days weren't as bad as I thought they would be. Clear would come in for almost the whole day, sometimes all the way into the night - when he did that he wouldn't let me sleep. "Dolls don't sleep, you can't sleep Oaba-san you have to stay up with me. Together forever Oaba-san"

He striped me from my clothes and would touch me all over. I hated it. The feel of his cold hand sent shoved all through me, Everywhere he touched felt dirty and slimey. After a while I gave up telling him to stop. The more in discomfort I was the more he liked it, I didn't stop purely out of not wanting to give him satisfaction but also because I had grown tiered however it made my stomach sink and throat feel stiff how he enjoyed my not making any sound more so.