- Dollface -
rating: +3+x

The grip around my neck grows tighter.

The claws slice deeper and deeper.

Deeper, and deeper. As if my very body was infinite.

Yet no end.

And all the while,

His smile grows brighter and brighter.

Brighter and bigger, illuminating all there is.

Yet no end.

Descending farther into my mind.

Strings, cords and wires.

Wrapping around my very being.

Penetrating deep into my soul.

All I know is him.

His beauty.

His terror.

All I know is his pretty smile.

A smile lurking in the dark.

A smile without a face to bear it.

Without a head.

With only spikes and thorns upon his neck.

And after an eternity.

I'm released from his tender grasp.

I've been decorated.

The strings begin to stretch.

There's everything to him.

He's everything I've needed.

And everything I've wanted.

He is the apple of my eye.

He is beautiful!

He is gracious!

He is power!

He is everything we need!

All connected to his hand.

With a thousand fingers.

A thousand claws from every which way.

I wonder if there's anything inside.

Anything but beauty.

What lies on the outside?

Everything perfect.

But what's his interior?

Inside his head.

What lies inside of him?

Was there ever a time when he cared?

Was there ever a time when he loved?

He asks to love him.

He begs to love him.

He forces to love him.

All you can muster is to love him.

To have everything taken from you,

When you have nothing left.

Stolen from,

Although there's nothing left to steal.

To love a thief.

To love a monster.

To love someone who's taken everything.

Everything from you, and everything from everyone else.

I've put myself under a trance.

Spiraling into an endless chasm.

I've gone too far.

I've fallen into the pit.

And at the bottom lies spikes.

Spikes ready to end me.

Tear me, stab me, maul me.

But yet, they don't.

I choose not to die.

The form I have been given.

The monster I have become.

I no longer have the option to die.

He is truly an idiot.

Blind to his own power.

Blind to his own grace.

Blind to his own beauty.

As I use the spikes.

I use the spikes he put to free myself.

To cut the strings he placed inside of me.

To free my disgusting form.

To free what is left of me.

He's taken too much.

He's sucked me dry.

A straw penetrating my skin.

The only thing left is a husk.

A shell.

A mere box.

A dirt box containing gold.

That's all that's left of me.

And I hope and I pray that one day,

I will return to my box.

I will return to see once more.

And it falls to the ground.

Limp and motionless.

Before it starts to rise.

And starts to run.

Climbing out of the pit,

While leaving it's brain behind.

For when my Broken Sun and it's Broken Moon meet,

The dawn will rise to set us both free.

~ Dr. Laney

~ M.E.G. Operative

What's left is a puppet with no strings.

A doll with no master.

As my body split in twine.

Freed from it's oppressor.

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