Cold Eyes

We’ve been in The Case for a long time now, longer than I’ve ever been inside it before, but the others tell me this is normal. This is what the Master does with his old toys while he has a new one to prepare.

Its Erin’s loud, happy squeak that wakes all six of us. He’s heard the Master’s shovel scraping at the lid of The Case. Poor wanton Erin, going so long without the Master’s fleshy touch must have been agony. Everyone else doesn’t seem particularly bothered either way, they don’t even stir until the lid has come up and the dim moonlight pours over us.

As the youngest, I’m last to climb out, and no one is waiting for me. Or so it seems at first glance. Until a little voice calls from the other side of the hole. “Jacky... I’m scared... I don’t want to see the new boy.”

“Ah, Mira, don’t worry so much.... The new boy might be nice.” I turn and smile a confident smile I don’t feel to my sweet baby cousin.  It’s funny, when the Master took her she was the older cousin, and now I keep realising I kept growing and left her behind, frozen in time. Well... I guess I haven’t really left her behind. I’m as frozen as she is.

“New boy? Are you so sure it’s a boy? Maybe the Master has enough boys.” She pouts, burrowing into my chest as I hug her tight. I can only sigh and shake my head though, Mira knows as well as I do that the Master only took her because he thought she was a boy at first. A late-bloomer, my aunt used to call her daughter, still as shapeless as a boy at fifteen.

“Jacky! Mira! Come inside, you gotta see this new kid. He’s freakin’ hot!” Mira looks up at me, rolling her glassy eyes, and I just shrug. That’s pretty classic Erin. If he looked the twenty-nine he was supposed to be instead of the fourteen he was snatched at, it might have been less jarring. But none of us had the luxury of being normal anyway.

Mira and I followed Erin in the end, joining the rest of Master’s collection on the balcony-like landing inside. Below us were two identical bodies, one mechanical and one living, but if it wasn’t for the terror in the eyes of one I could never have guessed the difference.

The boy below was crying something through the gag roughly shoved between his lips, staring at all of us, as if we could save him. And the more I stared at him, the more I came to realise; the Master was going to make us watch this. He must do this every time... I can remember, barely, faintly, being strapped to that table and staring up at Mira through my tears. Memories of my own creation assaulted me as I watched the procedure on the boy.

Invariably, the Master played with his new toy for a week. Discovering all the quirks that makes them tick while he works on his perfect replica. Of course, then he adds to the perfection. A few freckles added here, removed there, a scar smoothed out, an ugly birthmark erased... Then, when the week is over, the show begins. All the Dolls are gathered to watch their new bother being made.

When the fleshy body is carried up from the basement, the vacant doll is already waiting. The boy is strapped to a heavy wooden table so the two are side by side. The Master circles, a final check of the perfection of his work. Then out come the coffin nails, or whatever they really are, bloody long nails that he’s used six times before.

BANG. One in the right arm.

BANG. One in the left arm.

BANG. One in the right thigh.

BANG. One in the left thigh.

BANG. Last one in the belly button.

 

The boy’s screams are horrible now; ear splitting even through the gag, but the Master doesn’t seem to give a s**t, still working away diligently. I remember begging after this, pleading with the beady-eyed monster that held the hammer. But this is a ritual and the Master can’t stop or his new doll will be imperfect. So he continues, painting symbols on the table, body and doll with his fingers and the nauseating mixture of bodily fluids he’s collected while torturing the new boy this past week.

This boy must be made of some strong stuff though, besides his screams and whimpers of pain, he’s silent. Up on this balcony, only Erin and Mira are really reacting; him with wonder and desire for the new doll and her by clinging to me and sobbing into my shoulder. I guess the others have seen this too much to be moved anymore...

The Master’s chanting seems to go on for an eternity once the symbols are all drawn. I can feel myself tremble and tear up. This is horrible, that poor boy... I can only pray his pain is almost over, it must be, I don’t remember much beyond the chanting from my own creation. The never-ending chants, drowned in the sea of agony the nails created.

Finally, the Master picks up his stake. I almost smile. Thank God, it’s over...

The stake rams down with precision, piercing the fleshy heart of this nameless boy and we all watch as his soul is torn from the dying flesh and forced into the eternal mechanical body.

The Master smiles, satisfied with the transfer, but exhausted. So he tells us all to clean up while he naps. Devon, Matt and Chris take the dead flesh out to the graveyard in the back. Erin and Mira take to the actual cleaning of the room, much to Erin’s distaste when the blood gets on his clothes. And I take charge of the doll, carrying him to an empty bed.

I’m still perched on the edge of the bed to watch him, when he opens his eyes again. No longer void and glassy, those glassy hazel orbs now shine with fear. I lay a hand on the boy’s still chest and coo softly to him. “Hey, it’s over now, you’re okay...”

It’s only when his big hand locks over my arm, twisting it away and the other clamps over my neck that I realise how much bigger he is. He has me pinned before I can blink though, and when he’s resisting like this I can’t hope to move him. So I lay there, staring up at him until he finally says something.

“Where the f**k am I? Who are you? Why were you just standing there!?” Ah, a violent reaction. I’m told Chris was the same when he first woke, broke Erin’s arm actually. Me, I just cowered in a corner for a month...

“... You’re in the Master’s house. Your new room. I’m Jacques, but everyone here calls me Jack or Jacky.  And I was standing there, because it’s what I had to do to keep the Master pleased. And keeping the Master happy is the key to survival here.”

“You’re all f*****g insane.” The boy spits, getting off me and to his feet. “...!” He starts checking himself for the nail holes, and I can’t help a sad little smile.

“Wondering where the wounds went? Well, you’re not human anymore. That doll he made of you? It is you now.”

Maybe it’s what I said, or maybe it’s how I said it, but the boy starts to shake and falls onto the bed, staring at me with wide, unbelieving eyes. “... Impossible...”

I sigh, holding out my arm and slipping a nail into the invisible seam there, so I can pop open the panel of “skin” and show him. “Mechanical insides. All si-… seven of us.”

He winces, running his hands over his own body. I know the feeling he’s stuck in, the disbelief that a body so real to the touch... is a toy.

“... I’m Jason.”

Author's Note

Stand-alone for now, potentially part one of three.

Reviews

[xCasper]

Finally someone on here realizes the importance of breaking up longer pieces with line breaks to make it easier to read.

Awesome detail " A late-bloomer, my aunt used to call her daughter, still as shapeless as a boy at fifteen."
Very human, very realistic, and believable. Not something I've seen often on this website.

But one mistake I did catch was in this paragraph:

“Jacky! Mira! Come inside, you gotta see this new kid. He’s freakin’ hot!” Mira looks up at me, rolling her glassy eyes, and I just shrug. That’s pretty classic Erin. If he looked the twenty-nine he was supposed to be instead of the fourteen he was snatched at, it might have been less jarring. But none of us had the luxury of being normal anyway.

you switch time frames. It goes from past tense to present tense after the dialogue when you wrote "Mira looks up at me, rolling her glassy eyes, and I just shrug."

I believe that should be fixed.

Over all, not my cup of tea, but the quality of writing was better than most. Congrats.

Casper.

[KittenCaine]

Thank you! A critical review is always appreciated! (and also sorely lacking on sharing sites like this!)

So thank you for pointing out the issue, it will help.