From the very start, their autonomy was violently stripped bare. They were taken and held down and beaten to submission-enslaved and collared and owned. Years upon years drag, time wasted in the confinement of normalized abuse. They solemnly accepted that they'd rot away; their leg broken and long since stopped hurting, the infection slowly eating away their very own bones. It was too late for hope. It was too late for a miracle. Until it really isn't. (In which you get hit by a car, punch someone in the face, and self-sign yourself as a caretaker to two aliens.)

You didn't like the ocean. The water felt like it would burn (and it does). Your lungs would give out sooner than others and you didn't even know how to swim! You never asked for this trip, never asked to be here. Yet, here you are, stuck all alone and waiting for rescue that probably would never come. Or, well, not really alone. The burning gaze of something in the water wouldn't leave yours.

//The unmoving smile on its face seemed sharp with its scarlet shining eyes that swam in black. Painted in the sharp color of blood made the blues and blacks stand out and lord- It was beautiful.// In a set of mental instability urges, one criminal seeks revenge on who left them to rot, two Daycare Attendants seek to find a killer behind a mask, and three kids are seeking justice after being murdered. All of which are housed under the same roof and all looking for the same person. When does the line blur with a heartless figure to help and love an unlovable machine?

There is no moral to your story, no happy or unhappy ending--no monody written or sung. Your life was taken away for nothing. So your punishment is to walk this filthy earth, bloodlust your new companion for decades to come. Sharp fangs glint in the late-night glimmering stars. The salty water of the sea circles you like an embrace--you are like a shark smelling for blood. And you find blood. Ribbons of red sifting through the ocean. The ship's engine roars. The siren caught in the clutches of a net turns and twists, its expressions that of an animal desperate for escape, but its eyes are far too sentient, two burning stars in a void. It locks its gaze with yours, and you are met with a half-second decision.

A night out to hunt bad people with your favorite haunted doll. So many cuddles and kisses and all the mushy stuff happen. The shenanigans of having a tiny haunted doll. (I am open for requests!)