Doll

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(Edited)

It seemed like a joke how she tried to recreate that fated morning.

A cup of coffee right beside her; she enjoys her morning java a lot - strong, creamy yet not too sugary. Yes, he remembers this bit about her along with many others. For example, she waits a while before taking a sip of her coffee, letting it cool a bit. Just as he remembers she doesn't like to sit facing the sun; the bright light irritates her. And the fact there's something so calming and peaceful about her when she sits a bit far from the sun facing her back with a book in her hand and her glasses perched on her nose. She often rocks the lounge chair that she sits on and it's exactly the same chair every time - not a rocking chair but a regular one; she tilts it back and forth balancing it with her feet. The coffee on top of the table isn't unfamiliar. He had found her this way a few times and every time he just took his time gazing at her; he always found her presence soothing. But today it was different.

Something is wrong with this recreation.


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Everything is placed exactly where it was. She too remembers quite vividly their first encounter and she knows exactly what she's doing. She was in black attire almost exactly similar to that day. One thing that he remembers quite fondly is her presence - bright and calming, no dark attire could diminish that vibrant aura. Today, her aura screamed malice, dark, and something ominous - her dark attire was dull in comparison to her dark aura. She is her but not herself; someone else's presence in her body - A million thoughts circling his mind. He took a step closer.

It was a sight so unpleasant to any normal human being.

She was rocking the chair lightly while reading the book; her coffee was not slightly cooler, just as she prefers. The difference between the first time and this time is the alarming fact that a man is lying on his stomach, on the ground, in front of her feet - bound, taped, and unconscious. A small wick is hanging from his taped mouth. He could see two syringes on the table but chose to ignore them. The unconscious man was lying too close to her, too close to his comfort. And she, without a care in the world tilted her chair lightly, sipping on that coffee and not a single time did it hurt the poor man. But the man looks familiar; it was the man that was assigned to guard her.

He knew the man and she knew him too.

His doll is in the mood to play; a game he's too familiar with but never wanted his "toy" as a participant - "toys" are to be played with, not become playmates. Wondering when she grew a brain and guts, he couldn't help but frown. He was aware of some of the things that the man lying down had done to her. He was aware of the man's treatment of her when she stepped inside his world. He knows about the wounds the man gave her. And he is also aware, that he, himself, had subjected her to torture that nothing can measure up to - the scars of which are still littered in her body, marred her soul. She looks up from her book and smiles at him - a devious smile that shocked him. Her tears and wails were a comfort to him; her smiles looked good on her but not this smile. This, whatever this is, can or is going wrong; any plan that he had for her is about to foil. Is this some sort of retaliation - he thought.

She: Hello Master, you're here already?! Would you like some coffee?

She sounded jovial, content even and he was too speechless to reply to her as he had never seen her like this before. He is too familiar with all things evil, he has done plenty that would question anyone's sanity but the sight in front of him and the woman, his doll, in question here is something he's seeing for the first time. No, no, his doll is supposed to be exactly as he wanted and e didn't want this.

He: Umm, Doll??? Why is there a guard near your feet?

He eyed the man on the floor and then looked up at her, hoping for an explanation for all this.

She: Umm... Well, I was bored!!! So, I thought why not play with him (pointing to the guard). Are you mad at me, My Love?

My Love - she poured so much venom into those words like she's about to shove all that venom down his throat. He stared in disbelief. This wasn't his Doll; his Doll was too kind for this world. He broke his Doll; reshaped and remade her to his wishes - but the one in front of him isn't her.

Doll wants to be a playmate.



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12 comments
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The heck! I want moreee :3 What happen next :vv

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what do you mean by what happens next!!! I haven't thought of the next lol

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Think about it fast :v the clock is ticking for ya :vv

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So this peaceful, beautiful, calm person was just a doll! If she wants to play why not? Maybe she's beginning to have human attributes.

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Doll is also an endearment just like sweetheart or darling... that's an actual woman

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Oh! It never occurred to me that it could be a pet name. Thanks for the correction but how did he break her and reshape her to his wishes? That was what confused me.

Anyways! Lovely writing.

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(Edited)

There are many ways to break a person and torture is one of the pick... the story is sort of psychologically challenging... although it is mostly implied here... and he actually is her torturer and the torture he did which he referred to as the games he play with her... and now she wants to play too

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I totally understand better now. Don't know what I was thinking not to understand that. Thanks for the explanation. You're just a great writer who knows how to be esoteric sometimes.

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This is a regular arrange marriage in south asia.

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Oh my goodness your view is far diabolical than mine 🤣

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