Page 5 of The Doll Factory
So exceptional.
Time to go to sleep.When you wake, you’ll be ready.
CHAPTER2
THE DOLL
“What is your name?”
An intense fog clouds my thoughts as I swim through the ether of the unknown.Flying through clouds like I’m on an airplane with pink horizons in the distance.If only I could reach it, everything would feel right as rain.
“What is your name?”
A strange disharmonious chord wallows like a whale deep beneath the ocean’s surface, bouncing off coral rocks and shark heads slinking by my torso.One bite and I’m gone, sinking to the trenches beyond gravity.
“What is your name?”
Breathe.Straight and thin.Through my lungs and out.“Mm.Member.”
It’s me.I’m the creature causing that sound and the knowledge of that, that I am anentity,makes my eyes snap open and everything in me wishes I hadn’t allowed that freedom to exist.
“I don’t remember!”Violent retches tear up my throat as I startle awake, unable to move effectively.My limbs tied in suspended harnesses hung from the ceiling.Even when I tug and jostle and sway, my body moves like a boat through the tsunami of air.
When my vision settles in my brain, a silent and still seizure captures the breath in my ribs.I’m surrounded by girls still as statues, their heads lolling about in various positions, as if held on only by shards of skin.Big orbs float where their human eyes once were.Now replaced with glass toys that dangle in spaces whenever I shift my movements.
“Where are you?”
One of the life-sized dolls opens its mouth in a robotic manner like a marionette as a voice comes through, but it doesn’t seem to protrude from the lifelike creature itself, but somewhere else in this strange room.
“Where are you?”
Tears flow freely down my cheeks, splashing onto my bare breasts.I shiver, realizing how very naked, exposed, and alone I am.And when I sniffle, a harsh smell of astringent, chemicals, and something pleasantly meaty like bacon filters through.
Now, I’m sobbing with whimpers.These aren’t just girls… they’redeadgirls.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know!”
Into the blue hue of light in the room cuts a sharp band of white as a door is thrown open and I try to swing out of its path.Black shadows haunt the doorway until they merge as one figure, who strolls into the frigid space to stand in front of me.
Oversized clear frames focus in my vision and behind them, kind brown eyes, a heavy black mustache, and rich umber skin, wrinkled with a broad smile.
“Hello, Doll.You need another dose.”
A hiccup escapes as I pause my cries.The man wears a long blue lab coat that wafts around my face as he unbinds my arms, which fall to my sides as if they weigh more than the Earth itself.After loosening my legs, my body is tossed onto a metal cart like a pile of mashed potatoes at a cafeteria line.
Part of me wonders where the image of such a food would come from, but I can almost taste it so vividly, my mouth waters.“Doll.”I repeat, because I don’t know what else to say.
Screeches cut through the atmosphere like knives as the man wheels my transportation through a glaring hall, then another.And a series of white halls until I can roll over onto my side and purge everything that has settled in my belly onto the floor beneath me.
It looks like mashed potatoes.
“Mr.Corbund, the vials are not ready.They still need to be chilled for another thirty minutes.”A harsh, disgruntled voice greets us as my new friend pauses his steps outside of a white door, almost indistinguishable from the surrounding structure.
“Thank you, Miss Watson.I will proceed with the injections.”
“But Dr.Miles says–”
