The Doll Collector

The Doll Collector

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing10m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Jun 21, 2011
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Fiction
Horror
Obsession, beauty, and being a hypocrite seemed to be different to me. But meeting a lady who meet these three couldn't get any more scarier. It's been five days as I've been locked up in this cell. My only companion were the mice that scurries along the wall and my friend who was also in a frightening situation. My legs are chained up and the only distance I can reach up to is about half of the dark cell. As the light comes in through the door, a young lady who tricked me comes in with a box of tools. She walks between the gap my friend and I formed and smiles. "The doll that's next in line I see, will next come with me to play. Who is next, who is next, let's count to ten and there she is."
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  • INSATIABLE

They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.

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