The little girl was found dead on her bed three days after her father returned form his trip across the country. It was shocking, to say the least, when her parents found she would not wake. Eventually the 'experts' decided that she died of a heart attack in her sleep. At the foot of her bed was a smiling doll. It was her father's gift to his precious little angel. It was a boy with golden hair, enchanting purple eyes, and a ruby red smile. It was dressed in a deep scarlet dress, almost the color of fresh blood, with black lace adorning it. He was beautiful, but they hid a dark secret. A mysterious trail of death that followed it across continents and oceans. With every new owner there was a new death and his eyes would get ever so slightly darker.

Two days after she died they threw the doll in their dumpster. They swear that it had been moving. They would leave him in her room over her bed and they would come back and he was sitting on her bed. Or he would be standing on the window and seem to gaze longingly outside. Once they came back and he was right next to the door. They also claimed that he would watch them whenever they went into their lost daughter's room. Finally they had enough, choosing to banish him to the dumpster instead of dealing with the stress and paranoia.

He didn't blame them one bit.

It was strange to be a living doll. To never sleep or age. It was impossible to feel and to be loved, and in his opinion, to love. He knew nothing of feelings. He could not feel the breeze flowing through his hair in his short trips outside. He couldn't feel the warmth of the little girls when they held him closely. He also couldn't feel the anguish others felt when his work was done. He knew not of their happiness and sadness.

His name was Matthew, even though no one had ever called him that besides his maker. He couldn't remember who it was exactly, or how long ago. He only had strange blurry memories of a stern man carefully sculpting every detail of his body. Painting his smile with the slightest of scowls on his face. He had carefully sewn his lovely dress, it was only a dress because he had not yet bothered to learn to make pants. And snow, blindingly white, settled outside the window.

Anyway, now he spent his time wandering from family to family, killing loved ones and generally being despicable to be around. No one ever suspected the beautiful doll, smiling from the top shelf. No one believe the traumatized family when they said there was something wrong with him. They didn't know that he had no choice in the matter. He did it because he had to. It was what he was created for, his only purpose in life. It definitely wasn't because he wanted to. He really wanted...

If he were truly honest with himself he would admit that he wanted to be seen as himself. For someone to notice his personality and not fear him for it. For someone to see him and care for him. But he knew that would never happen. He didn't even believe he had the right to wish for it.

So once again he found himself in a trashcan. This was a fairly normal occurrence for him, just another part of his not-quite-a-life. Thus he had to find another way into someone else's life. If he could he would just stay outside until he was unrecognizable. A strange want, yes, but he had spent most of his time in little girl's bedrooms, one right after another. He would either be awaiting his chance to kill or waiting until he was abandoned again. If he knew about emotions, he would notice exactly how lonely he was and it would drive him mad.

He carefully climbed his way out of the trashcan. He fixed his hair and watched as his dress cleaned itself. Once the red bow in his hair was back to it's usual perfection he picked a direction and started his search for a new family. He walked unseen in the shadows for a good number of streets he happened across a yard-sale. Against his will his little slippered feet brought him up onto one of the tables next to some other toys. Once he sat down he felt an overwhelming sense of right. That has been what has forcing him through the same routine after all these years. The need to do this over and over again was embedded in him since his creation. Eventually someone took notice of him, so he was forced to stay perfectly still. It was also against his will, whenever someone would gaze upon him he would he forced to freeze.

It was a fairly tall man that had wandered over to the table he was perched on. He was different then everyone around him. For one, he was bundled up a lot more. Another was the strange... aura. There was no other way to describe it really. Every one just kind of edged away from him. He looked at the other toys passively before noticing Matthew. There was a slight change deep in his eyes. It was a look he had seen countless times. The man was hooked. He was on his way to a new house. The large man brought up a gloved hand to brush delicately across his cheek. He gently traced his perfect, devil red, smile and brought them down to examine the fabric of his dress. He brought them up for one last brush on the tip of his nose before murmuring to himself.

"You look so sad, Little One." Only Matthew heard him say this. If Matthew had the ability to look confused he would have. That was a rarity, his purpose was very simple after all. Kill, kill, kill. But... no one had ever said that to him before. If anything they commented on his beautiful smile or his eyes that seemed to sparkle. This man was...different.

"You are a boy, da? Then I wonder why you are wearing such a pretty dress. Its a very interesting color." He leaned in to keep his voice down and examine his clothes closer, "The color of blood..." He said this last bit very quietly, absently.

Matthew actually blushed ever so lightly under the stare. The man noticed this and his eyes widened.

Shoot, freaked him out already. He would have been interesting to go home with. He had never actually thought that before. Usually he didn't care who picked him up.

To his surprise he was picked up and brought over to whoever was hosting the yard-sale.

"I would like to buy this doll, da? How much is it?" The man said this... cheerfully. But unhappily... is that possible? It was faked happiness, like sweet sugar venom.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't think that doll is mine... so I can't really sell it to you." He stuttered back in extreme fear.

Matthew stopped paying attention as the two continued to talk. Instead he wondered who was up next. This man's daughter? His sister? His wife? For once he actually felt a twinge of something, deep inside him. He didn't know what it was, it was an entirely foreign feeling. And it scared him.

Eventually the man 'convinced' the other to let him buy Matthew. He carefully put Matthew in the car along with a lamp that he bought.

"I'm Ivan. I hope you like it in my house. It's a little lonely there, but that might change, da?" Ivan smiled at the still surprised Matthew. This... could be interesting.

The trip home was rather short. They arrived at a large house right on the edge of the town. As they drove up the long driveway Matthew stared at his new temporary home. The car came to a stop and he took the time when the man was distracted to fix his hair and put his hands in his lap. When the man looked back over at him he was still as stone with his signature smile in place and in a slightly different pose. He waited with contained glee to see his reaction. Shockingly, it was nothing more then the rise of an eyebrow before climbing out of the car and walking to the trunk to get out the groceries stashed there. While he was gone Matthew's smile slipped into a pout. That was disappointing. The one enjoyable part of his life was messing people, not that it ever lasted long.

Quite suddenly, his door was opened. Ivan was back and it effectively caused him to be unable to smile in time. Instead he was left with the tiny pout still on his lips. The man giggled at the look before picking him up and bringing him inside the house.

Almost immediately upon entering the house, his phone rang. He picked up the phone and had an angry conversation with who ever was on the other line. All the while he looked at Matthew so he was unable to sneak off to be alone for awhile to figure things out. It was a few minutes before he hung up the phone.

"Stupid people at my work can't do anything right." Ivan said sharply before shoving the groceries in their proper place. "Don't break anything."

And with that, he was out the door.