Metal clanged against metal, rust grinding and making a once smooth surface feel like sand paper and fire against soft, pale skin. It was dark, the only light being a dim torch that sat in an old metal holder on the brick wall. The air was moist and cold, copying the stone floor which was covered in liquids, rocks and broken pieces of metal. It wasn't hard to tell what was going on, cries of agony and tears reverberating throughout the empty prison.

"P-pl-lease," It came out as a blood filled cough, but the plea was there, earning another crack of a whip and scream, chains rattling from the attempts of escape of their victim.

"Quiet down, you'll wake the village with noises like that," Deep, sweet, sickening, the voice made the victim want to gag further. A clammy hand came to the prisoners face, lifting it up so they could gaze into ice-white eyes. It was something that would be considered beautiful, but they were tainted, scarred with the blood lust and greed that filled the heartless beast.

The prisoner jerked their head away in a disrespectful fashion, debating on whether to try and bite their captor's fingers or snarl out an insult, blood dripping to the floor. A frown came upon the attackers lips, but was soon replaced with a slight glee and enjoyment, the whip raising.

"With an attitude like that, I'll enjoy having your family next," The cracks and snaps filled the air once more, tears mixing with coppery blood, those chains just rattling away until they came to a slow and dreadful stop.

"I can't believe this," the mutter wasn't meant for anyone's ears and no one picked up on it, rain pelting the sidewalks. It was a slightly gloomy day in a usually bustling city, today was a bit less 'bustling' though as everyone was at home. There was a thunderstorm approaching, so no one wanted to be caught in that.

Though one man was persistent on getting his groceries, a tall, stocky man with a somewhat maroon shade of hair and brighter red eyes. He wore a pitch black coat, scarf wrapped thickly around his neck, holding an umbrella above his head to keep him dry. He was grumpy, the bus,of course, had left without him, so he had to wait another thirty minutes for it to come back.

He hadn't driven because he expected there to be no where to park, but the streets were almost empty aside from a few lingering people like himself. The man sighed once more,turning from his place at the bus stop and striding off to go find something to occupy himself, seeing as standing quietly in the rain for half an hour would be boring as hell.

Stalking up the street, heavy foot steps making a squish with every step from the wet ground, the man window shopping. He wasn't exactly aiming to buy anything, so he let his mind wander as he walked.

He lived alone, he had never had any interest in marriage or having kids and his sisters and servants had left not long ago, slightly to his dismay. He'd never admit that; he was a great man, a man that descended from royals, he wouldn't be 'sad' over being 'lonely'. The idea disgusted him.

He indeed got lonely though. Its a natural thing, not talking to anyone, sitting quietly at night with no one around, it was almost hurtful to the man, who was oblivious to it. Though when he realized he wasn't walking anymore, he blinked at the store he was caught staring at.

An old, practically empty toy store. From the condition of the rickety sign and the cobwebs that hung from the ceiling tiles inside, it was obvious the place was well over fifty years old. Though a chirpy old man sat at the counter and a few toys were still hanging around the shop, a few on display.

Something had caught his eye, obviously, if it was enough to make him stop in his daze. The old man inside paid him no mind, so he let his eyes wander.

Nothing new in there, of course, the toys looked just as old as the store. Spin-tops, dolls, toy cars of pure metal and other little remnants of the past. Though a shelf of little dolls dragged the man's attention.

They each sat in a small box that were a little larger than a tissue box. The dolls were clearly made of porcelain and fabric, looking to have been hand made delicately with every stitch. The dolls were styled after a kingdom of sorts, some dolls wearing butler outfits, chefs, a few knights, king and a queen and a single maid.

The man faintly wondered why there would only be one maid. Maybe the others were bought? It was a very pretty little doll, so they would probably go quick. He let his mind drag on for a moment on whether he should buy it or not, the sign said only 300 rubbles, a little less than ten dollars Canadian.

Finally he decided to get it. It would look pretty on a shelf or something, so why not?

He hesitantly strode to the door, opening it. A bell chimed and the old man glanced up from his news paper before continuing his business. Of course, the visitor was quite pleased that he wasn't being bombarded with greetings or anything, just pulling down his umbrella.

Heading to the shelf, he glanced around at the other figures, the man brushing them off soon enough as it wasn't what he came for. He picked up the boxed maid and looked it over.

No labels, no pictures, nothing. Strange, someone with such a talent would at least want some credit if their doll was being sold. He hummed lightly in thought before brushing that off as well and heading to the counter.

The old man perked up as he saw the Russian coming over, a smile coming to his scruffy face. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I just want this," The man replied, voice thick with a Russian accent, setting the box one the counter. "how much?"

"Just what the sign says, taxes already added," hummed the elder, picking up the box and inspecting it.

"Lovely choice, we only ever got one of these. Thought I'd never sell her," He chuckled, voice soft but a bit sore sounding, the other not replying as the old man typed in a few numbers in the cash register, the machine dinging and the drawer sliding out.

The customer fished out a few rubbles and handed it to the man, earning a kind smile as the shop owner put the money away and bagged up the doll.

"Here you go, take care now," the elder hummed as he passed the customer the bag and reclined back in his seat, the other just humming as he turned and left the store. He was still urged to look in the bag, but kept himself composed in public per usual, the plastic hanging by his side along with his other groceries.

Upon arrival to the bus stop, he was pleased to see the old vehicle making its way down the road. Once it lurched to a stop, the man boarded, flashing his bus pass to the driver, Vladmire Braginsky printed next to his photo.

Vladmire, or better known as Vlad, quietly took his seat at the back of the bus, wishing not to be disturbed. He was alone on the bus, and wished not to speak to the driver, so he kept as far away as possible.

After the ride, Vlad headed along until he reached his home. It was a soft cream colored house, two stories high and looking to be some what fancy. He arrived at the door and unlocked it, slipping inside.

The house gave off a cold atmosphere, literally, feeling as if it were just as cold as outside. The floors were hard wood and most of the rooms were in sight from the front door, there being a nicely furnished living room, kitchen, dinning room, stair landing and a few closets.

Vlad took off his boots and put away his umbrella, setting down his bags and putting the rest of outside attire away. He soon scooped up his bags once more and trotted into the kitchen.

Feeling somewhat curious about seeing the doll outside of the box, he put things away quickly before heading out to the living room with the box in his hands.

He sat down on a soft cushioned couch, looking a tad old but matched the surrounding area, cherry wood shelves and an old tv sitting in the corner. A large picture window was to the right of the couch, covered by drapes.

Once more, Vlad held the box in his hands, turning it about. He looked for anything, any kind of tag or sign of a sticker. There was nothing, Vlad frowning a bit. He took his fingers to the top of the box, opening it up and reaching inside.

He pulled out the doll, fingers around the waist of the figure. It was around the size of your average teddy bear, made of smooth porcelain and fabric. It was a young girl, looking to be no older than twenty, having very pale skin with little dots of orange and brown as freckles across her cheeks, having sparkling mulberry eyes and thin wire and glass glasses settled on her nose, held in place with a thin thread in her hair.

Her hair was very wavy, being dirty blond, tied back in a slightly messy bun nestled down by her neck. Even if it was in a bun, it was clear the girl had quite a lot of hair, one curl even standing away from the didn't seem out of place though, suiting the glass figure.

Finally, she wore a pitch black maids dress, the dress flowing down to her mid thigh in length. The top had a bow tie around her neck under the collar and sleeves cut off near the elbows. Continuing down, there was a apron that was tied around her waist, the bottom of the dress having the same kind of white lace as the top part. She wore black low-heeled shoes along with thigh high ivory socks.

Vlad just stared, holding her in his hands. Such detail, it was a bit... creepy. It felt like she was watching him, the glass eyes a bit too realistic for his liking. Though on the other hand, the doll also gave him a feeling of... felicity, almost tugging a smile on his lips, but the forever-scowl stayed in place, just lightening his gaze.

Vlad was soon searching for a tag, even the usual 'made in china' would be better than nothing. He's not sure why such a minor thing would eat at him so much, but he didn't dwell on the why and acted on impulse.

To his surprise and mild delight, there was a softly painted on name under the dress on the lower calve. It was painted in the lightest of browns; Madeline. Vlad examined it for a copy right symbol or a trade mark one, but found nothing of the sort. He settled with this, assuming it was a brand name or the name of the maid.

Soon he stood up, heading along to find a place to put the maid. He soon settled on one of the shelves near the TV, pushing over a picture frame and gently sitting the doll down. She sat propped up perfectly, leaned against the wall with her feet hanging off the shelf.

Vlad hesitantly brought his hand up and felt the fabric of the dress, still admiring the beauty and care put into such a toy. He soon retracted his hand, lingering for a moment before quietly heading off.

Throughout the rest of they day, he did his normal routine, head to his little home office upstairs and do some paper work, followed by heading to the living room and reading. He finished up by making supper for himself, eating and heading off to bed, almost completely forgetting about the doll.

His room was a soft blue, bedding shades of grey and white, having a queen sized bed. He had a few dressers near the end of his bed and a big closet, window having a window seat with the drapes pulled closed to keep the sun out.

Vlad sighed heavily as he took a seat on the bed, having gotten changed into a pair of boxers and t-shirt, scarf folded and hidden away in the bedside table's drawer. He muttered something under his breath, rubbing the nap of his neck.

It was Friday, he still had two more days off of work, but he still felt stressed. At least he didn't have to deal with a certain nasty co-worker, an American who couldn't keep his big, fat mouth shut. He just shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the thoughts before laying down, reaching out and turning off the bedside lamp, the room swallowed up in darkness once more.

A/N:ahahah yeah I know its not very exciting but don't worry it'll pick up owo/) Don't be too rough if ya judge, its my first fanfic here w''

-to be continued-