Chapter 50

Disclaimer: I do not own Toy Story. I would like to thank those that have taken time to read, alert, favourite, or review this story. It means a lot:)

Call her what you must - it wouldn't make a difference anyway - or call her what you desire; Katrielle Hay was a merciless woman (or parasite, which ever you prefer). She was colder than a misty world full to the brim with freshly made ice; and there certainly was no stop to her doings within sight.

Nothing got in the way as she progressed further and further towards to her own final stand, where she would then make the transformation final; where she would send the souls of Jessica Jane and Woodrow Pride for good, before discarding of their continuous prison completely. And if something did get in the way, she would be able to obliterate the brief dilemma instantly. No-one would ever go through more than one hundred years of practising the forbidden procedures of Black Magic without gaining some sort of inner power in the process.

And Katrielle Hay had gained much, much more than that through her own years of practice. Oh yes, her power was so great that's its own value was simply beyond imagination. Beyond normal limit. And, not only had she gained the power herself, she had gained it in another host that had once been completely normal. Well...as normal as you could be when you had been created from the sources of Black Magic. And not only had her own daughter been an abomination to nature, but now she could be considered the abomination; especially when she remained inside the host.

She could literally do anything with hosts' and souls', this was what she specialized in after all. And if she wanted to move a soul from one particular host to another (whether the other host be empty or currently in use), all she needed was the hosts themselves and a soul to take advantage of. And when you're a controller of inner atoms, you can literally move the soul from one host to the other by just concentrating.

So this was how she had been able to move the souls of Jane and Pride into the vacant rag dolls.

During the years she had waited, she had given the two well enough warnings to prepare themselves for what was to come. She had placed the rag dolls on the wooden perches that had been angled out of the ground, and she had even warned them herself through mental connection - and she continued to do so. Heck, it had been obvious enough. The fire, of which the two had taken part in setting, had avoided two of those wooden poles, whilst it completely obliterated the other two, therefore turning the smaller rag dolls (one in the shape of a male and the other in shape of a female) into nothing more than ashes that had long since been swept away by the winds that occasionally overruled the neighbourhood. And she made it even clearer by having the remaining dolls larger than the other two (the shapes of the bodies included) and this hadn't been because Woodrow and Jessica had been obviously taller and bigger than Peter and Pertranda, but it had been to indicate that the two would be 'older' when the rag doll's would be put to a use.

Yes, she had given them enough warning. But if they were going to choose to ignore those warnings, then it'd be their own damn fault if they were hurty during the process of their lives' continuing on.

So, in truth, she probably wasn't that merciless after all. She had warned them, when she could've just caught them by surprise; but they chose to ignore these warnings. So then let it be if they did!

Katrielle Hay could only hope that the ignorance wouldn't rub off on herself and her husband when the transformation was complete. And, maybe after this she could bring her daughter back once and for all?

However, Hay had planned on sending both Jessica and Pride into complete exile when the procedure was completed, and then she would destroy their prision completely, making them forever lost within the depths of nothing.

But little did she realize exactly whose soul would be conjoined with one of the souls' she was about to permanently trap.

By now, Woody's consciousness was deeply buried into the state of a dreamless slumber. For the moment, he saw nothing. But little did he understand that it wouldn't remain this way for long; yes, it wouldn't remain this way for long at all.

However, for now, he was trapped within this state for an amount of time that seemed unclear. In fact, everything seemed unclear to him at this moment; as though everything he knew and everything he could understand was no more than a simple hazy blur as if he was breathing on a window that had been supported before his mind by forces greater than he could ever imagine - fate maybe? He wasn't sure (either way, he had non idea of the real meaning of fate or what the 'Fates' were in the first place to begin with) - as he unsuccessfully attempted to make sense of it all. However, this was one thing he could not do. How can you make sense of something that was as clear as a hazy blur in the middle of the night? You couldn't; this was the honest answer.

On the contrary, it would also be impossible to condence the metaphorical slide of glass that hung before his mind: There was no waty he could either inahale or exhale in his state. It was no more than an impossibility. In fact, he could only see the darkness and hear the silence as he drifted further into nothing. Feeling (or engage in using) any of his other sense was out of the question where he was. He could not smell; he could not touch; and he certainly could not taste. So here were three of his natural senses gone. He could only hear the silence and watch the darkness; that was all.

However, it could be possible that he had that extra sixth sense within his inner will somewhere, maybe even buried within the mass of incomprehesible thoughts that remained in his mind? And it may have been thi9s way because he was certainly able to sense something. Danger maybe?

Woody wasn't sure whether this would be true or not and he was aware of the fact that he had no proof to prove his instinct. But he sure could sense it for sure. It was almost as if he had been here before. Well...in this state of mind before... The state of mind where he wasn't really anywhere at all; almost as though he wasn't even in a body - a host (but Woody didn't understand the separate terms of hosts and souls yet) - but instead remained in the world that lay between life and death.

Wait...? Was he dying? Was this really what death was like? Since he felt no pain in the slightest. In fact, he didn't feel anything other than his own mental emotions conflicting against one another to form a hazy blur at that moment of time. Sure, he could feel them. But he felt no pain. And didn't you feel pain when you died? Even if you died of old age you'd feel pain as your body literally shut down on itself - just like Katrielle Hay should've been through many, many years before (but Woody didn't even remember this for now - but even this wouldn't last for long).

But what if he already was dead? What if he was drifting towards the afterlife? Actually, what was the afterlife? Woody didn't know this in the slightest.

Ever since he could remember, Woody never believed in a God, or a higher power, at all really. And why should he? What has this 'God' ever done for himself, apart from make his life miserable? Absolutely nothing, that's what this 'God' did for him. And, even though Woody wasn't actually sure how this happened, he knew he believed in no higher power. Maybe he was just waiting for a sign before he found himself believing in something (meaning he was agnostic), or maybe he was a pure atheist.

Or maybe he wasn't even dying at all? Maybe he was just being isolated from the rest of the world by some unknown cause. Yes, this seemed reasonable enough for Woodrow Pride to believe.

However, he did not remain in this state for long. As he was then almost completely absorbed into a visual trance he had absolutely no control over in the slightest.

Jessie's hands were shaking vigorously as she she lifted the knife above everything she could simply understand. Her hands were clenched so tightly against the wooden hilt of the knife that her knuckles were now paper white. Her whole body continued to viciously throttle from side to side as she clenched her eyelids shut, bracing herself for what was to come.

And she knew it was most likely death. It was whether it would be slow or painful that was one of the questions that should've loomed over her like a light anchor that had just the right weight to drag her further into the freezing waters, but light enough for her to break through the surface and gasp for vital air if she tried hard enough. However, it was this question she ignored completely.

It was whether it would work or not that was the question. If she didn't do it right...then who knows what would happen when she herself dies, but doesn't manage to kill 'her'.

Her hands continued to shake as she inwardly battled the force from taking over completely, trying to avoid from opening her eyes. This would mean she'd only see Woody's body sprawled on the ground. And she didn't think she'd be able to handle this...

The blood was slowly dripping from her wrist to her forearms, from when she had unsuccessfully had tried to remove the parasite from her body. But she ignored this.

So, in one swift motion, the shining blade pierced her upper chest and she screamed in pain.

Gasping, Woody shot up from his deep slumber.

But when he awoke, he wasn't in that state anymore. He was somewhere much, much different.

A/N Story's moving on a bit more now:)

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