I stood in the midst of the doll room looking about, scanning the faces of all the china dolls. I noticed that china dolls have an eerie essence about them, especially when collected and kept in a large shadowed room. I suppose I should be grateful to have inherited this home belonging to a doctor. It's just strange though, all these dolls ornately dressed and kept in a room, gathered like an audience or jury to judge ones guilts.
There have been rumors about him, the doctor. Some called him an angel and some have claimed he was the devil himself. Me, I guess I'm unable to judge him as I never had the chance to meet him and was given this home in his last will and testament. Why, I'm unsure of and really I have wondered if this is perhaps a dream. Sitting here now writing though, with all their eyes upon me it feels much more like a nightmare.
Kenichi rested his chin on his hand and scanned the room once again. The other hand held a pen poised over a journal where he had just been making a new entry in his journal. He laid the pen down and stood, making his way to the side of the room where all the dolls sat watching him.
"So.... I suppose you have been watching me these last few days. Do I pass the test?" He said in a tone much like a lawyer before a jury. The dolls said nothing, their vacant eyes staring into a distant abyss. Kenichi felt unnerved by that constant stare. Enough so that he had an unvoluntary chill move across his body. He touched one of the dolls soft hair lightly. "Just a doll..." he said shaking his head and walked away toward the desk where he had been writing. He closed the journal and shut the light out, exhausted from the day of unpacking his artwork supplies.
Kenichi turned toward the doorway and then headed up the stairs to the master bedroom. Tomorrow he would start a new project. He decided he would bring his easel into the doll room and begin to make a rough sketch for a mural of them. He considered what a haunting painting it would make for the next exhibit.
Once in bed he sat reading over some old fragments of paper that had been left in a storage room by the good doctor. His eyes scanned the paper lazily, and heavy with sleep.
'I want Tsuzuki, I must have him as my own. If it were not for the boy I would have won him already. But I will bide my time and seduce him to my side.'
Kenichi stared at the writing which had been watersoaked and illegible after that point. It was no use trying to read further. He took off his glasses and pulled his auburn locks away from his face as he lay back farther into the pillow which he adjusted. He reached out and turned off the lamp next to the bed and pulled the covers a little higher, feeling a chill in the air. There was a moment where it seemed that he was somewhere between dreaming and wakefulness when he could have sworn that he saw a fluid form of a man walk past the end of the bed to stand next to him, and then he fell asleep.
Note: All characters with acception to those of my own making
(such as Kenichi) belong to the creator of Yami no Matsuei.
There have been rumors about him, the doctor. Some called him an angel and some have claimed he was the devil himself. Me, I guess I'm unable to judge him as I never had the chance to meet him and was given this home in his last will and testament. Why, I'm unsure of and really I have wondered if this is perhaps a dream. Sitting here now writing though, with all their eyes upon me it feels much more like a nightmare.
Kenichi rested his chin on his hand and scanned the room once again. The other hand held a pen poised over a journal where he had just been making a new entry in his journal. He laid the pen down and stood, making his way to the side of the room where all the dolls sat watching him.
"So.... I suppose you have been watching me these last few days. Do I pass the test?" He said in a tone much like a lawyer before a jury. The dolls said nothing, their vacant eyes staring into a distant abyss. Kenichi felt unnerved by that constant stare. Enough so that he had an unvoluntary chill move across his body. He touched one of the dolls soft hair lightly. "Just a doll..." he said shaking his head and walked away toward the desk where he had been writing. He closed the journal and shut the light out, exhausted from the day of unpacking his artwork supplies.
Kenichi turned toward the doorway and then headed up the stairs to the master bedroom. Tomorrow he would start a new project. He decided he would bring his easel into the doll room and begin to make a rough sketch for a mural of them. He considered what a haunting painting it would make for the next exhibit.
Once in bed he sat reading over some old fragments of paper that had been left in a storage room by the good doctor. His eyes scanned the paper lazily, and heavy with sleep.
'I want Tsuzuki, I must have him as my own. If it were not for the boy I would have won him already. But I will bide my time and seduce him to my side.'
Kenichi stared at the writing which had been watersoaked and illegible after that point. It was no use trying to read further. He took off his glasses and pulled his auburn locks away from his face as he lay back farther into the pillow which he adjusted. He reached out and turned off the lamp next to the bed and pulled the covers a little higher, feeling a chill in the air. There was a moment where it seemed that he was somewhere between dreaming and wakefulness when he could have sworn that he saw a fluid form of a man walk past the end of the bed to stand next to him, and then he fell asleep.
Note: All characters with acception to those of my own making
(such as Kenichi) belong to the creator of Yami no Matsuei.