Standard disclaimers apply.
The Doctor's Dolls
Mrs. Rusalki
It's already too late for you to understand but understand it, you must and that's what I'm telling you now. It is true that as long as you let me own you I could never be yours. You give so easily, love too freely and hold me so dearly. Maybe I have loved you once upon a time but our common school of thought -- that is, we only want what we haven't got -- sunders us indefinitely. A comrade, a fox, a merchant of flesh and spirits, a doll with the longest, most beautiful and human-like hair. You are Mibu Oriya and you are mine.
We're dreamers and liars, the lot of us. I'm sorry for dragging you, my sweetest, to the bitterest river and not save you from drowning. And as your face blurs beneath my waters, your eyes ask, 'How could you love he who time and again spurns you?' You are an intelligent one for answering your own question. There is no one quite like you. Your protection equals a cavalcade of steel-clad hellions.
Don't accuse me of the sorrow you're feeling and the emptiness you keep on tunneling. This responsibility lies in your hands as invisible dirt clings under your nails for selling soul and pleasure that aren't yours. I'm not evil, my dear fellow, just ensorcelled with beauty and immeasurably ambitious. I do not owe you any explanation but here I am, wanting for you to understand. Maybe I do love you and it is this love which I should have used to keep us apart to preserve you. If that is the case, then the premise that follows is that I didn't love you enough.
Can't you see the whole picture? The child of ice and hellfire is the very same one holding a magnificent doll of red and flowers and steel and yet he reaches out a hand to the one in the window that is not for sale.
'Yes, mister, please that one with purple eyes and scars,' the child says.
'I'm afraid that it's not for sale. It's broken beyond repair,' the man who stays in the shadows answers. The man eyes the doll in the boy's hands. It's perfect and it offers gifts that no one else can yield. How could anyone want more? I also ask myself that. How could I want more?
There is a broken doll as I recall. I could never want him and that's why I broke him in pieces, with scars, irreparable and wanting for an owner. Yet he's so attached to me that even death could neither end nor mend him. It could happen to you for staying too close. But isn't that what you want? To infinity and beyond, with your porcelain lips slightly parted with desire, as I decapitate you.
You see, everything you have you offer me. That is your mistake, my friend. Letting yourself to be irrevocably mine, mine to give, to hurt, to love and not to.
Resist me and you tempt me. Hate me and I'll want you. Even for me, you never did any of these things.
END