A car was parked beyond the gates, a black Mercedes left behind to wait for its master.
"Doll House" was the declaration in the language known to all as the White Man's tongue. It was sitting on top of the door, always there to remind them whoever who walks upon these floors the title of the house.
They first stepped up on the front porch, the younger one knocked on the door producing the sound of a tap on the wooden entrance. But not producing the sound of footsteps to welcome them on their first visit.
"You're… We're wasting you're time here, idiot" said the older sibling.
"Shut up, it won't kill you to wait" the other said, his knocking a bit rapid by this time trying to coax a living soul inside the house to hear their call. The result was still the same, no one came to open the door.
"Let's go home, this is useless"
Even the excited brother took the offer and turned away from the door. But it was the sound of a small creak that told them to stop their tracks and turn back. It was like in all the horror movies they both saw as kids, but none of them dared letting the thought pass their head. The younger felt the chills of the evening breeze take effect on his poor spine. Whilst his aniki just shrugged his shoulder, pushing the boy inside the house to finish what the other started.
They wall down the hall, the only light that guided them around was the one spilling on the floor from the windows that were many and big.
The waxed moon hung like a pendant, cast away by a young maiden to an ocean of lifeless stars. It floated on the surface of the still skies, captured on by the frames of the window as they entered the mysterious mansion that has acquired a name of its own on the lips of every socialite in their circle.
There was a mannequin positioned right over at the first hall. It was without a head, without two legs and no two arms. But there were the round breast made of plastic, all covered in white bandages that have reached years from the time it was first laid. Splintered wings of angel mimicry were attached to the back, a small wire from the ceiling held the weird object from falling on the visitors.
Bells announced their arrival as the group found themselves in a bare room. A few hints of stains claimed the walls as they stared once in at the place they have gotten themselves into. Marbled floor shone beneath there shoes, reflecting a faint silhouette of their bodies. There were only two of them; raven haired was the one who walked ahead while the one who was not far behind carried a head of golden tresses.
They have heard of this place before, a mystical place planted in the middle of the twenty first century. Everyone with the right amount of money came here for services that were quite unimaginable especially in this modern time and day. Pictures of death on the wall dotted the room, not at all filling the room but making it gloomier to a certain degree.
A woman lying in the black and white floors, her dress an inkblot in a psychiatrist's pad as the blood in dark made its form on the barren floor.
A bloody head hanging by a single thread attached to the top with a hook like a fish caught in a trap. His eyes were covered in blindfold, hiding away the secret of his departed form.
A picture that could easily be identified as the burning fire from the Holocaust was part of the small gallery as they walked on to the end of the room. Another blond was waiting for them at that table over there. His hands covered in purple silk gloves a coat with fur lining running down his chest area. There was a simple hat that boats nothing but its simplicity, sat on top of his hair as he lead his glove covered over papers with words that hold great importance.
The tapping of black shoes took away his cerulean eyes from the documents he busied himself with. His eyes held with so much secret but they didn't show off any signs of surprise as he saw the two men walk on to his direction. His fingers made a small tent, his elbows rested on the top of the table; a picture of a perfect and organized man was presented to them. A smile caressed his face, that added to his silent but confident image while he waited for the gap between them grow smaller and smaller.
"Good evening, gentlemen, whatever brings you at this very hour in my small shop?"
"We are so sorry to have come this late… I had to find aniki" he rolled his eyes at the other's direction.
"I have no interest in all this hocus pocus of yours" amber eyes were already nearing to sleep, but a resistance of some sort was fueling him, keeping him awake for a few minutes more. "You could've picked someone else to nanny you through this…"
"Aniki, you're the only one I know…"
"Hush, gentlemen" the blond sitting by his desk, listening to the start of an argument, raised his delicate hands, "I wish not to hear any bickering and I know that two of you might in quite of a hurry to leave my establishment. I think it be wise if we start transactions immediately so that you can depart as soon as you can
"And before that, of course, I am Seguchi Tohma owner of Doll House" the whole time, his calm composure never left him. His gentle smile never left his beautiful face. "And who would you two be?"
"I am Uesugi Tatsuha and this is my brother, Eiri Yuki" the now named Tatsuha said, bowing a bit to show formality.
"Brothers? With different last names?" the blond pointed out the beam on his lips a knowing one, "Well, I am not in the position to ask about that"
"Saves time that way" Yuki said, pulling out a pack cigarettes from his pocket, "Hurry up brat, I have to finish writing a novel"
"Well, what is it that you want, Uesugi-san?" Tohma leaned back on his chair, "Or more specifically, who is it that you want?"
(SPACE HERE)
A/N: I'm ending it here because I'm dead tired and I'm sleepy. Yeah, whatever… I didn't beta or reread it like I usually do… so bear with the crappy grammar and missing word. I just wanted to post this because the idea is so sweet.