Just one comment for this chapter. The dolls that were in the prologue will be discussed in detail here, and I don't know if it will be boring or not. If it is, I apologize, but it is important for the story.

…

The house stood silently, almost eagerly, as the moving van pulled up. A small blue car followed it. A man got out of the van and went to the back to start unpacking. A woman from the car helped him, but she didn't help long before yelling at the car.

"Alfred, Matthew, don't just sit there, come help!"

Two boys got out of the car. One, a tall, sandy-blonde with clear blue eyes, held a cardboard box. He went right into the house without stopping at the van, obviously not happy. The second boy was a little shorter, and his hair was longer. His violet eyes flicked nervously from the door to the van before he crept over to help unload. The woman sighed in annoyance.

"Thank you, Matthew. I don't know what's gotten into him." She shook her head, as if the other boy had committed some disgraceful crime.

Though he didn't want to upset her, Matthew spoke up for his brother. "Well…you know Al didn't want to move. He had a lot of friends back at home. He'll settle in, I'm sure…"

His mother sniffed disdainfully. "Alfred should know it's his fault we had to move. If he hadn't made such a fool of himself, we could have stayed without humiliation."

The man from the moving van spoke up. "Honey, he was just out a little after curfew. It was bad luck a cop drove by and saw him."

"Bad luck is every good family's downfall! That, and rotten kids."

Matthew quietly left before their fight escalated, which it always did. he searched for his brother, and found him sitting at the top of a staircase leading to a door that had been boarded up. Alfred was curiously studying the door, and did not hear Matthew approach until they were nearly side-by-side. He gestured to the door.

"Why do you think it's blocked off?" he asked. Matthew shrugged.

"I don't know. I heard Papa talking to some guy, and he said the family before us had a son who went missing, and he liked to go up to the attic a lot."

"I'm gonna find a way in," Alfred decided, and left no room for arguments. Matthew didn't try, only giving a tired sigh; sometimes his brother could be a bit much. Occasionally, he wondered how they were so different, even though they're twins. He still loved Alfred, though, no matter what.

Alfred had already turned his attention back to the door, running his fingers along the edge of one board. Matthew opened his mouth to try and fill the silence, but yelling and a slamming door echoed through the house, silencing him before he made a sound.

…

The attic door would not leave Alfred's mind, and he constantly wondered about it. He didn't know why he wanted to go in. There was just something pulling him to the door and the attic beyond.

About four months after they'd moved in, Alfred and Matthew were in the backyard, playing catch with a baseball. Things had been tense between Alfred and their mother, and he needed to blow off some steam. He threw the ball with more force than was necessary, and accidentally hit his brother on the head. Matthew staggered back a couple steps, holding his head with one hand. Alfred rushed to him, scared that he'd seriously hurt Matthew. He assured Alfred he was fine, and Alfred calmed down slightly. They were facing the house now, so when he looked up he saw an attic window. At least, he assumed it was, considering he didn't recognize the deep blue curtains, or the man peeking through them –

Wait a minute. He blinked, and the man was gone. The curtains still swayed, though. Ignoring Matthew worriedly questioning him, he ran to the small shed he knew his dad kept tools in, and grabbed a hammer; the boards were held there by nails, so maybe he could pull them out. With the hammer in tow, he ran inside – and right into his mother. She looked like she was going to snap at him before she saw the hammer. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"What do you think you're doing with that?" She didn't give him a chance to answer. "You're going to ruin the house, aren't you? You've never liked it here, and now you're acting out!"

Again, he was given no chance to respond, but this time it was because his father walked in. He silently cursed.

"What's with all the yelling?" his father asked. His mother gestured to him, and the hammer he still held.

"He's going to trash the house!"

"I'm sure that's not it. He probably has a project to do or something."

He could see his mother begin to seethe, and made his escape before the fight began. As he'd been doing more and more frequently, he sat at the top of the attic stairs, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes, the forgotten hammer in his lap. A strange creak-bang sound made him open his eyes again, and he gasped at what he saw.

A small part of the attic door, boards and all, had swung open on invisible hinges. He could barely see the attic behind it from where he was sitting. That strange pull he'd been feeling since they moved in strengthened tenfold, and he unconsciously leaned forward, utterly captivated. He jumped when a voice called out to him.

"Hello, Alfred," it purred with a distinct British accent. "It took you long enough to get here. Why don't you come inside?"

Almost against his own will, he managed to slip through the small opening in the door on all fours. When he straightened again, fully in the attic, the little door shut. This didn't particularly bother him, as his attention was focused completely on the small man before him.

He was at least a whole head shorter than Alfred – even shorter than Matthew – and had piercing green eyes. He was smiling charmingly.

"Who are you?" Alfred asked, and was taken aback by his own voice. It sounded strange in here, taking on a weird echoing quality that he'd never heard before. It seemed to fit the strange aura around this man.

"Well, most call me the Magician, but you can call me Arthur." Arthur came forward, slowly, and lifted his hand to touch Alfred's face. Alfred was frozen, but couldn't bring up the will to care.

"Yes…I've made a good choice…" Arthur murmured, nodding to himself. Alfred had no idea what he was talking about, but did not question it. Instead, he changed the subject.

"How did you get in here? The door was boarded up, and there's no way you were up here all this time."

Arthur laughed softly. "I told you people call me the Magician. There's a reason for that. You'll find out in due time," he answered mysteriously.

Alfred pretended to understand, when he was still bursting with questions. But suddenly one thought surfaced above the others.

"Mattie!" he cried. "I have to show him this! He'll think this is so cool!"

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "No. Do not tell anyone of this. You are the only one allowed up here, do you understand? It's our secret. Even if you tell someone, they will not be able to enter. I will not allow it."

Surprised, he nodded, and glanced around the room to avoid eye contact. As he did, he noticed things he had not when he first entered. The curtains blocked out most light, and yet he could see clearly. There was a distinct lack of dust on anything, and the room was set up much like a dining room. Most disturbing, though, was a whole line of people sitting along one wall. No, they weren't people, simply life-size dolls. They were very realistic, though. Even the glass marbles they had for eyes seemed alive and pleading for something. But there were stitches visible on their necks, and on the wrists of those that didn't wear gloves. Arthur seemed to notice his scrutiny, and chuckled lightly.

"I made those to look like friends I've had in the past," he informed him. Alfred found that slightly creepy, but sad at the same time. Arthur must be really lonely.

But the smaller blonde did not seem lonely. He went over to the dolls and touched each one as he revealed its origins. First was a strawberry blonde with red eyes in an odd black coat. It also had a small top hat with ribbons coming off it on its head.

"This is Vladimir," he said. "He was my first friend here. Everyone thought he was a vampire because he had red eyes and sharp teeth. That annoyed him a lot. But he liked my magic."

Next was an even smaller blonde that had a little curl coming off the back of its head. This one was wearing a dark blue sailor suit, complete with the hat. The navy eyes seemed bored. "This is Lukas. He liked my magic, as well, and always asked me to show his little brother Emil. I never did, though. There was a boy named Matthias that annoyed him a lot, but I think he loved him. That's what took him away from me."

The next was a tan man with pretty green eyes and an eternal smile. He wore a matador outfit. "This is Antonio. He was such a little ball of sunshine. We played Battleship a lot, and he always lost. Since he was Spanish, he called it his 'armada'. It was cute. He liked a little Italian, though I can't imagine why. The brother was so much friendlier. But that boy didn't seem to want Toni's affections."

Next was an albino man wearing a blue military uniform, complete with an Iron Cross. "Here is Gilbert. He was silly, always claiming he was 'awesome'. His ego was enormous, but he was fun to have around. I wish he didn't have to go."

Last was a man who could be mistaken for a girl. His fair was long and wavy, almost like Matthew's, and his blue eyes were wide and pretty. He wore a long blue shirt with a little matching cape, and red pants. "This is my latest friend. His name is Francis. I think I may have loved him. He loved me. He's pretty, don't you think? His parents didn't think it was healthy for him to visit the attic so much, and they wanted to move. He's the one I miss the most."

Through all of this, Alfred simply stood there and listened. Arthur didn't seem sad, but he obviously missed his friends. Alfred didn't want to leave him like that. Almost without thinking, words tumbled out of his mouth. "I won't leave. You won't miss me, I promise."

Arthur blinked at him, and smiled widely, flinging himself at the teenager. "Oh, Alfred, if only that was true. But I'm glad you don't want to leave me. We'll be very good friends."

And even though this man, this Magician, was still very strange to Alfred, he found he wanted to stay with him. He never wanted to leave this little attic sanctuary, and his newfound friend.

He should have known that things would change, whether he wanted them to or not.