Chapter One: Mr. Fox & Little Dove

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever. It was like one endless black hole and, as much as I hated it, it seemed fitting enough. Time didn't seem to exist here. Hour after hour passed and yet I remained frozen in place, barely making myself go through the motions of living. I hated that feeling. I despised it. The feeling of hopelessness. Just on the brink of giving up.

On life.

On revenge.

On happiness.

The darkness purged my soul and left me feeling empty and alone, just like this hallway. And the very worst part of it all was I didn't seem to mind it anymore. I'd become immune to it. No, immune was the wrong word. I'd become numb.

I steadily dragged one foot after another letting a low hum roll off my chest. I continued swaying to the soft beat of my lull trying my best to convey my sorrow with song and dance. A rogue tear touched my cheek. My heart ached. Why was I here?

"Little Dove! Little Dove!" The voice seemed to flutter through the air with the grace and agility of an elegant butterfly. My skin crawled as my body and mind registered whom the muttering belonged to. I stopped breathing. "Little Dove! Little Dove!"

I turned on my heels. My bare feet squished with the moistness of the dirt from the dingy tunnel. Filth splattered and splotched against my open flesh, of which I had no idea. But I ignored it. My spirits were long past the realm of broken.

"Little Dove! Little Dove! Come out of hiding! Daddy has a new toy for you!"

I waited, listening to his voice warp and reverberate off each of the stone walls lining the tight tunnel. It grew louder and louder until it was practically on top of me. I gripped at a strand of hair and twisted it around my finger. Patience wasn't my strong suits, but I had learned how to keep it from showing.

"Little Dove! Little Dove!" He called. I opened my eyes. He was there, standing inches away from my face. I couldn't find it in me to smile. "Look what I have for you."

I glanced at his hands. Clasped tightly in his fists he held a silver collar. I'd seen the other prisoners wearing it. They looked like dogs to me. Trapped in a twisted zoo. My stomach dropped. I stared at him wide-eyed.

"Why?" I choked. My throat felt dry as cotton. Tears brimmed in my eyes and blurred my vision. His clever little smirk remained unfazed. I felt sick. "Mr. Fox, I don't understand. You promised you'd protect me."

"Yes, my child. But this is much more fun. Won't you try it on for me?"

I hesitated. For the first time in a long time, an emotion stirred inside of me. I felt it twisting and turning around my gut, seeping in through my bloodstream and tingling from the tips of my fingers to the bottom of my toes. I desperately wanted to run.

"No." My voice was firm. His smile slipped.

"What did you say?"
"I said no!" I screamed. "You don't own me! I'm not your toy!"

Without giving it a second thought, I slapped the overly glorified piece of metal out of his hands. The ring hit the ground with a high-pitched ping before rolling safely to the wall. I balled my hands into tight fists and brought myself eye-level to him balancing on my tiptoes to glare. He frowned.

"It's just for appearance." He said coolly, but even so, I could hear the lies behind his words. "You'll be completely safe; I swear it on my life. The other prisoners are starting to ask questions. They're wondering why you get to roam around here freely. You can't be my dirty little secret for much longer."

I felt uneasy at his words. He tangled his hand into mine. I arched my brows up.

"I love you." I whispered. "I love you because I have to. But you, as a person, make me sick to my stomach. I could care less if you live or die. You're no fox. You're a-a-a weasel!"

"Feisty tonight, are we?" His smirk returned. He gripped my hand tighter. Slowly he pulled me back in the direction of the fallen collar. He crouched to its level taking me with him. I couldn't help but notice how fascinated he was with the object, how much he seemed to treasure it as he smiled at his reflection. I pursed my lips. I'd never come so close to hating anyone in my entire life. "You want to find the one who killed your family, do you not? That was the first thing you ever told me, isn't it little Dove? You'd be the first to break into Deadman Wonderland and demand to stay. That's the name of the game, isn't it? Or have you forgotten our deal? I'm trying to help you. Let me help you."

My hand fell slack in his. I lowered my head. He pulled us both to our feet, holding the collar in his hands as if it were a newborn. I wanted to cry in frustration, but fear struck me first. I stood perfectly still as he fastened the bulky device to my neck. I felt it clip into place, needles dug through my neck and clasped to my veins. I retorted. Stumbling back in pain. Mr. Fox gleamed in triumph. I continued to glare.

"This isn't funny!" I hissed. He shrugged.

"It fits perfectly." He hummed. "Now, then. There is the matter of the whereabouts you'll be staying."

I straightened my back. "What do you mean?" I growled. He fixed his glasses to a point on his nose. I was really beginning to hate that face of his.

"You can't stay in my office forever. It's much too comfortable. You'll be transferred to G."

"G?"

I'd been here for nearly a month and not once had I heard anything about a "G Block". There had to be a reason he'd kept it hidden from me for so long, but try as I might, I couldn't quite see his angle. I was wrong to ever call him "Mr. Fox". The more I got to know him, the more of a weasel he became to me.

"Yes, G Block." He said examining his nails. "It just might be more fitting for you, my little Dove."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" I complained. "Why a Dove?"

"All will be revealed in due time." His voice hung in the air like a dark cloud. My heart skipped a beat. Something about him seemed more off than usual, but I couldn't place it. It was all just feeling with no proof. Instinct. I blinked twice. The first time, I saw Mom's smile. The second, Dad's stout frame. I held my breath, waking to the hideous reality. Mr. Fox was practically on top of me. I didn't have time to scream, within seconds a moist cloth covered my mouth and nose. As I inhaled, I felt my body shutting down. Blackness swallowed me whole. I didn't stand a chance.

"Hello?" I screamed. The panic was clear in my voice. I frantically searched the room violently whipping my body in every which way to examine the seriousness of the situation. "Hello?"

I groggily rubbed my head pleased that besides being relocated, I hadn't been otherwise touched. I let my body relax as my memories slowly started to return. Frustration licked at my body. That psychopath locked me in here for an imaginary crime. I had to play by his rules now. Despite my better judgment, I had trusted him. Look where that'd gotten me.

I puffed out steam rolling off what appeared to be a bed. From what I could tell, I was stuck in a cell-like room with plain white walls and dingy gray carpeting. It was nicer than what I'd expected, but still, it wasn't ideal. This place, "G-Block", had no personality. It was barren.

Lifeless.

A wasteland.

I rolled my eyes bringing myself back to my feet. The carpet was rough and itchy as I drug my feet from one side of the room to the other. As I inspected the room, I found it was more like a motel than a prison. There was a small full bathroom equipped with toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, and a bar of soap. A closet full of a few of my favorite outfits, and a blank dresser with a note resting dully on the edge. I scooped the note up and carefully read over the neat Japanese characters.

"Little Dove,

Please enjoy the rest of your stay here in the Carnival of Corpse! This is a standard Deadman's room, just like everyone else's in G-Block. Feel free to decorate it to your satisfaction.

Love,

Mr. Fox"

I scrunched the note up in my hand and tossed it into the wastebasket. How was I supposed to decorate the room to my liking? I had no currency to buy anything with, and from what I could tell, Mr. Fox had no way for me to make any casts.

I rubbed my neck. Disappointment started sinking in as my hands grazed the metallic collar. Why was I so stupid? Why risk my life over the past? It wasn't like me.

I shook my head pulling at the drawers of the dresser. I yanked open the top first. My heart dropped.

"How? Why?" I gasped. It was stocked full of cast cards. I cleared my throat picking up a single card to further investigate. It appeared real. I scooted the cards around. At the very bottom rested another note.

"Don't forget to buy some candy! Your life depends on it!

- Mr. Fox"

"My life?" I mouthed. I scraped my mind for an answer. I vaguely remembered someone mentioning the collars were specifically designed to inject poison into imamates on death row and that the antidote was in the form of bad tasting candy. Did he really equip me with a working collar? I placed the card back in the drawer and tossed the second note with the first. This was ridiculous. I was mad that I wasted a month doing nothing and now I was scared for my life. If I didn't ration, I would die. I missed the freedom I so willingly gave up.

"What are you doing? Are you playing a game?" Someone asked. The voice sounded childish but aged all at once. I spun on the balls of my feet coming face to face with an upside-down albino girl. She was beautiful. There was no denying it. With her long bone-straight snow-white hair and matching pale completion, she reminded me of an angel. That said; it was hard for me to tell her skin apart from her tight fitted bodysuit she was sporting. But her very presence and child-like wonder comforted me in a way I couldn't fully comprehend. Before I knew what was happening, I was smiling. I inched closer. She stared at me wide-eyed still hanging upside-down from the air vent.

"A game?" I asked. My voice softened. I could feel my mood completely changing. I rocked back on my heels. "Well, not at the moment. But I do love games! What'd you have in mind?"

"Hide-n-seek?" She asked innocently. "Hide-n-seek! Hide-n-seek! Shiro loves hide-n-seek!"

"Shiro? What a beautiful name." I hummed tilting my head to look at her properly. She giggled bringing both of her hands over her mouth.

"You speak funny!" She laughed. My smile expanded. She had to be at least fifteen, but mentally she couldn't be older than ten. I wanted more than anything to protect her. I don't know how, but I understood that she had been through something traumatic to lock her in this mentality. She'd been falsely accused, like me.

"It's called an accent." I informed her. "I'm not from around here."

"Shiro lived here her whole life!" She told me. A small smile parted across her lips. "What's your name?"

"Naomi." I whispered. It felt weird, having a name. For the past week I'd been 'Dove', and now I had a name. A real name. She giggled.

"Naomi! Shiro likes Naomi! Let's play! Let's play!"

"I'm going to count to ten. My bed is base. No hiding in the air vent, understand?" She nodded. I giggled pulling my hands over my eyes. "One…two…three…four…" My voice trailed on. I heard her hit the floor with a light thud and gently scurry away. Her energy was utterly intoxicating. It was nice. Nice to finally have a friend in this God-forsaken place. "Six…seven...eight…nine…" I paused giving her enough time to adjust. "Ten! Ready or not hear I come!"