Mike's Doll
Mantineus-I know I should be writing more for "Mr. Levin", but I got inspired by the music video "Walking On Air" by Kerli. But lyrics weren't really used for song and what not….Also, I use Latin twice in here. Thought it might give Mike some more class. Translations at the end.
Disclaimer-I own nothing.
.o0o.
Gwen opened her eyes, blinking the sleepiness from her blurry eyes. First thing she noticed was that the sun beat her to rise; something for which she does not do. The next thing she noticed was the canopy over her head, which then led her to feel the mattress. It was soft, but it was clear that instead of wood, plastic was used to make the frame.
Shooting up she takes in this strange place. A fake, plastic drawer with a fake lamp resting upon it and a door frame with no door leading into a hallway.
A clicking sound resounded through the whole 'house, bracing herself with one of the canopy's posts, the wall to her right opened, revealing the smiling face of Mike Morningstar cast to enormous size.
"Ah, my doll has awakened." He said, a giant limb reached for her, grasping her around her abdomen, picking her up.
Gwen pressed down against his hand, trying to pop out of the Incubus' grasp, but to no avail. Summoning her manna into an orb of energy, she aimed for his head. Throwing it, she saw to her horror that it was, in comparison to Mike, the size of a marble, and upon touching him, faded.
"That tickles," Mike said chuckling. "Like static electricity."
Gwen started to form another when Mike stopped her. "Ah ah ah, Look down, Gwen. If you make me lose my grip-though being an animated doll, you'll still feel pain."
"What's the meaning of this, Morningstar?" Gwen shouted, her rage evident from her glowing eyes and tense body.
"Just setting things right with myself." Mike said forlorn, his eyes glazed over, his optical interest something behind her. "Ut comforto meus volatile memoria.(1)"
Gwen could barely hear the mumbled Latin. Sadly, her Latin was not as advanced as Mike's seemed to be. Sighing, she relaxed in his grip since nothing else could be done about this predicament at the current moment.
"Cheer up, Gwendolyn." Mike spoke, voice like velvet. "How about a tea party, we can talk like the friends we used to be."
"Are you serious?" Gwen snapped. "Why would I ever want to have tea with you?"
"It'll be relaxing, of course." Mike commented. "We'll be like prince and princess."
"And if I refuse?"
"You'll see."
Running away never occurred to her. Considering her size, he could catch her easily. And if her powers are one third what they were-if not more so-then she might hover slightly and fly at the speed of a snail.
'But I don't really know that,' She thought. 'Worth a shot.'
Mike brought them downstairs to the dining room of his mansion. Gwen gasped upon seeing the room. It used to look elegant with an air of superior dining experiences. Now, with busted and cracked windows. Drapes, tattered, billowing in the wind; she did not expect the damage to just about everything except the table, which had a smaller table with an ornate chair, much like the one Alice sat on when she drank tea with the Mad Hatter; the only lights were candles and the moon.
Mike placed her beside her chair, letting her go, she tried to give herself a running start, but the incubus caught her with deft hand, placing her back where she started and placed a shackle around her left ankle and the other end of the long chain he attached that shackle to the table leg.
"Now you can't leave." He says with that far away smile he's been having, like he's stuck in a memory, as he pulls out the chair. Groaning, Gwen sits down. "I'll be right back with the tea and biscuits,"
Gwen yanked on her shackle, but to no avail; she tries her powers, but the energy beam fails at its attack. She acquiesces, for now, as the sound of wheels come into range.
Mike pushes a cart across the room, tea kettle and cups-one normal, the other doll size, with the delicious biscuits one has with their tea. Mike gently poured a good drop of tea into her small cup and a good helping into his own, handing her the tea before placing quarter of a biscuit on a saucer and handing it to Gwen.
.o0o.
Young Michael sat cowering on his bed. It was past his bedtime by over an hour, a fact he knew painfully well, but sleep would not claim him until the light from downstairs turns off and her footsteps go to her bedroom instead.
The light did go off downstairs, and he sat on pins and needles as her footsteps came up the steps, high heels clacking on the floor in such authority that he was made even more frightened.
Which only grew when he heard them drawing nearer to his door.
'Pleaseleavemealone!' He chanted, eyes clasped closed as the mantra continued in his head. His door opened and a soft, deceptively sweet voice laced in loving cyanide.
"Mikey," The voice slurred, noticing he was up. "You were waiting for this, too, eh? Like the feel of a real woman playing with you than those preschool hussies."
"Please mother, go to bed."
Juliet Morningstar smirked, running a hand through her long, black hair. She wore a baize turtle neck with grey slacks, her brown eyes piercing into his frightened soul but could only find want and longing.
"Sure, Mikey, I'll 'go to bed'."
Mike knew she was drunk. He tried to stop her in the past, but it did not end how he wanted it to and she'd drink even more. Mike let the tears fall silently onto his head.
"Why are you crying?" She asked, truly confused, but still advanced on him.
How sad it is when beauty-for she was beautiful-turns into a beast.
.o0o.
"Why must the children suffer so, Gwen?" Mike seemed to ask, but he appeared as if it were meant as an internal question that slipped out.
Biting the bullet, she entertained him with a begrudging response, after all, what else had she to do?
"What do you mean?"
"Well, take your cousin, Ben, for example." Mike said. "He saves our planet on a daily basis, yet when he comes out-in more ways than just being a hero(how does it feel to have a gay cousin, by the way?)-the world turns on him. A mere child that the world never thought of until that day…And from that day they mistreated him or used him for their own gains…And all Ben wants is to save them."
"Yeah, but it was his choice from the moment he placed the Omnitrix on his wrist." Gwen stated. "What's your point, Ben doesn't suffer. He has…"
"You and Kevin? No, he suffers alone because it's him that receives the bad press…Not you or Kevin. And those people…"
"What about them?"
"They don't deserve his mercy!" Mike cried out. "Not all of them anyway…"
"What…"
"He couldn't save me."
And with that, Mike quieted, his facial features turning stoic and unreadable which scared the Anodite as he took a sip of his tea.
"Well, maybe if you weren't out to get him he would have." Gwen snapped, remembering that he used to be a zombie himself. "By the way, what happened to you? You look normal now."
"I know of your history with Kevin. Yet…," He did not go on, knowing she got what he was aiming at. "Anyway, the effects are temporary when used against oneself."
But there was something there, Gwen was sure she saw it, but did not push it. With Mike being cryptic as he is, she doubted she'd receive a direct answer anyway.
"But, enough about that. You're probably wondering how you got to be the way you are." Mike said, smirk back in place. "Well, you see, I bumped into an old friend of yours-Charmcaster-and she helped me get what I've always wanted: someone to talk to."
He stood up from his chair and walked over to a broken window and stared up into the crescent moon. He never took his eyes off of it as he spoke.
"And now that I have what I want, may you listen, please." His regal voice cracked, finding it hard to beg. "Monsters are not born but made. My mother made me into what I am, her father before her and most likely his father before that if not mother. And she knew, she told me she knew after one night in which I actually cried before she did anything."
He sighs, slumping over to touch the sides of the window he continues on. Gwen was confused. She never had to deal with something like this before. Usually the bad guy was just that; bad. No human emotion to drive it, no bad experiences to learn about, just defending the planet and its inhabitants from things wanting to destroy them.
"She gave me Tabitha, a beautiful, red headed doll with gemstone colored eyes-not quite your toxicity, but close. Her excuse was her father gave her one to cope and thus using experience, gave me one; her. I didn't think anything of it at the time. She listened and didn't judge when I told her things. We played, too. Like we are now, Gwen, only without the real food."
He turns to face her, eyes haunted and pale.
"Can you blame me for what I've done to those girls? To you? I know to you I'm an Incubus, but to me, I'm merely saving myself from the soul sucking succubae your gender has always been to me!" He laughed, though it sounded hurt. "I hated you all. And I found it amusing that you'd all listen to me! Finally I was in charge! Why shouldn't I find it amusing? Why should I not use my power when your kind took it away from me! I was…"
The sound of glass breaking stopped his speech. The window to his right was now completely devoid of glass as a muscular boy stood there, body completely covered in metallic armor. His blue eyes and tan face the only visible part of his body.
"Darkstar?" The boy said, sounding confused as he dismantled the suit in five seconds. "I thought…"
A quick right hook to his jaw shut him up.
"It's not polite to intrude onto other people's property." Mike spat, aiming to kick the blonde brute, but he caught it and yanked, making Morningstar land on his back.
"Cooper!" Gwen shouted.
"Gwen?" The blonde said, looking around the room.
Mike took the opportunity to punch him in his temple, which Cooper dodged, stood up, and began grappling with the other blonde.
"I don't understand how you did it, Darkstar." Cooper said. "Unless…"
Blue eyes changed as he checked out the situation. His eyes widened in shock.
"Well, that'll explain why you aren't draining my energy."
"What?" Mike said rather than asked, sounding offended. "Why would I want to absorb energy from you?"
"It'll also explain why you look like your old self." Cooper smirked. "You're not really Darkstar!"
Mike seemed to stop struggling for control, his eyes widened slightly before shrinking to normal size once more. Groaning, he clamped his hands over his temples as his memories assaulted him.
"Here Mikey, for you." His mother said. "My father gave me one and now you're getting one. Family tradition."
Mike combed the hair out of her face with his bare hands, a small whirring sound is heard but he pays little attention to it.
An older, decayed looking Mike grimaces as he speaks to her. "A girl did this to me. Gwendolyn Tennyson." He practically snarls, but softens. "But don't worry, I'm not mad at you for anything. I could never be mad at you, Taby. You're the only girl who understands me."
Mike screams, his head feels as if it's being torn apart. He presses down tighter to his temples as if it would keep in head in one piece.
"What's happening to me?" Pure shock and confusion cover his face as he stares at Gwen. He knew his mind was messed up. There was a big chunk missing and he seemed more volatile than before.
Windows break as Ben, Kevin, and some other guys Mike doesn't know chase after him through the night. They're after his blood this time for messing with Kevin like that. He can see his corpse in Ben's usually innocent eyes.
Mike gasps, his first breath in a good while, looking wildly around him he sees he's safe inside his room. But Tabitha isn't there. Not thinking much of it, he knows of an excellent replacement for her, though why he would search out a replacement instead of trying to find her is beyond him; it doesn't even cross his mind. The only thing that does is Gwen.
The ritual that they perform right outside Gwen's bedroom window after finding Charmcaster. Picking her up in his hand, grasping at her gently as he spirits her away to his house. To the dollhouse she would remain.
Gwen waking up…
Mike stood frozen before his body shifted like the picture on a TV that's on the fritz. He shifts again and he stares at Gwen.
"Why?" Whispers through his lips, a single tear shedding from his eye. "Quare usquequaque me?"(2) He said before he lands, face-first, on the ground where he fades out and in his place is a doll with long, red hair, green eyes surrounded in porcelain flesh dressed in a white, laced dress.
Gwen stares in disbelief from the edge of the table-her bindings not allowing her any further. Cooper finally spies her and is taken aback. Looking as tall as Barbie, his red headed crush was shackled to the unmoving doll table that sat atop the big dining room table.
"Gwen? H-how?"
"Charmcaster," Gwen said. "Fortunately she uses spell books, I should find a remedy as soon as I get home. What's going on, Cooper?"
"From what I can tell, it's like a memory chip; possibly used as a decoy when one's life in endangered or some sap couldn't stand losing a loved one and made this device."
He pulled off a small, visibly broken device from the back of her head just under the scalp where the patch of sewn in hair ends. A faint spark erupted from it, but Cooper paid it little mind as he crushed it under foot, surprising Gwen.
"No use for it," He said calmly, almost frigidly. "Mike's memories were all over it."
Gwen looked down at the table cloth, the look Mike-Tabitha-gave her before dying again still plagued her. She held in her sobs. This went too far; hero work never brought about casualties, the bad guys were sent away for a long time, forever she'd always hope, but sometimes they did come back. And they'd do it all over again. No finality. No death.
"Take me home, Cooper." She sounded cold, bordering on breaking down.
Using a newly made device he broke the shackle off her and held out his palm for her to climb on. He gently lifted his hand up and walked out the front door, but Cooper stopped, both tensed before closing the door.
It was just the wind echoing through the house-and both would leave it out when asked about what happened-and even though it still made them tense, they tried to shake it off as nerves.
The wind never sounds like it's asking why.
The End
1)Latin for 'To comfort my volatile memory.'
2) Latin for 'Why always me?'
