Oh crap… Oh crap, guys, I am so sorry for so many things. I'm sorry for the lack of updates and I'm sorry for the typo in the last chapter. I barely looked at it again and I noticed I put 'daughter' instead of 'granddaughter'. Oh my flipsticks, I am so freakin' sorry D:

"I should've just taken the key instead of you." Garry mumbled bitterly to the doll in his hands. The man had only spent about five minutes with the blue imp and so far he's far beyond annoyed with her. How'd he managed to prioritize a doll over Ib he'll never understand. What's done is done in any case. He set the doll down in a corner, staring at its still smile with a scowl.

"You want to save her, right?" She asked, ignoring Garry's bitter sentiment. "You want to save the red rose, right?" She giggled.

The red rose… That's right, Ib was here and that would mean she'd have her rose too. It struck him hard in the stomach with fear remember how pale she was when her rose was almost stripped of all its petals. If that were to happened again… He didn't dare to approach that thought. All he could do was pray that she'd be safe against Martin.

His gaze grew fixated on the fabricated imp, his glare softening as he sighed tiredly in defeat. "Yes." He simply replied, his fingernails scratching into the darkly colored carpet as he grew tense.

"If you help me, I can show you someone who can help you." The doll's red eyes seemed to glimmer for a moment as she spoke. Her voice remained childish, but sorrow could be hinted in what she said next. "Everyone here hates me. Everyone here hates her."

The man raised a brow at the doll. "Hates who?" He asked.

"Everyone wants her gone. Everyone blames her!" The doll was silenced, allowing tension to hang in air.

Garry stared at her smile, frowning at the doll's words. It seemed anguished, almost at tears. His eyes shifted around the room as he tried to look away from the imp. Then he came to notice something in the yellow room. It was something new to him, a place he was never in. He saw the red threads dangling from the ceiling, frayed as if they were cut. Underneath the threads, he noticed bits of stuffing scattered on the carpet and pieces of ripped fabric of different colors down the corridor. He looked down the hall he ran through after running into the room and finally saw the limp limbs hanging out from the walls. They didn't move nor twitched like they did before. Instead they lied on the floor, fingers sprawled out and broken. He looked back at his old acquaintance. "What do you mean…?" He asked, thinking the damages to the room were connected to the blue fella's tale.

"Mary burned. She burned to ashes. All because of you and that red child!" The imp cried. "But she was freed. Her spirit was freed from that wretched frame!"

"Her spirit?" Garry parroted. "But Guertena-" He stopped himself and remembered that the old artist rarely painted real people. Everyone he had painted were people from his imagination, including the lady in red. "But Guertena would never paint real people."

The doll remained quiet and very still, leaving Garry anxious to listen to more.

"You don't know anything." She answered in a mocking voice. "The books don't know anything!" The doll spat. The more Garry spoke with her, the more she seemed like Mary. Well, the young girl did create her in the first place. "Mary was a good girl! Mary didn't want to do anything wrong! It was that man! It was that bad man!"

"Bad man? Martin?"

The doll sputtered her tongue even though she didn't have one. "Martin does not exist! Martin is a true bastard to the definition!" Pause. "Bad man hurt Mary… He made her do cruel things."

Garry could hear how much the doll's speaking manners had deteriorated, going from snarky remarks to the manners of a small child. Was it that bad? Was Mary really being forced to do things she didn't want to do? Last time, she was willing to hurt him and Ib and take one of their lives. Instead things turned and he took hers. Wouldn't she want revenge after all that? After all, Garry was the one that set her to ashes without question.

"Bad man influenced Mary and kept her trapped here… Garry and Ib free Mary by burning her canvas… But now he took control and forced Mary to do bad things. Mary can't refuse him… She doesn't have a choice…"

Garry continued to listen to the doll's sorrowful cries as she continued to scream in pain for the missing Mary. It made his chest ache with a sharp pain. Regrets began to swirl in his mind as he began to remember everything he saw in that room on that day. He remembered the broken glass crunching under his feet as she chased after them. He remembered the horror on her face as her body began to bloom fiery roses that ate away at what she considered flesh. After that, he decided in a few therapy sessions that he did the right thing. He put Mary out of her lonely misery and ended the pain she was living in for who knows how long.

"I hear her…" The doll whimpered. "She says it hurts… She's scared…" The doll began to move, ripping through her little white dress and then tearing into her blue skin. "Don't cry, please… Don't cry…"

Garry was appalled at the scene he was watching. This doll was ripping herself apart, tearing into her dress and fabric skin in a frenzy of scratches and rips. He reached for the doll, desperate to stop her. Another life shouldn't be lost to this place's influence even if it was just an object of this world. That is what he believed. Sadly, the man was too late. The blue child had torn her belly in two, pulling her stuffing out no matter how much it pained her.

"Stop! Just what the hell are you doing?" Garry cried as he reached for the dodgy imp.

Doll stopped. That smile was still there, obviously forced as she slumped against the wall. Slowly she reached into her stomach, pulling out a thin green stalk that bloomed into golden yellow. "Please… Help me… Help Mary…! Help my mommy…"

The little doll's body fell limp, cradling the yellow rose in her arms as her voice faded into broken sobs.