She was gone.

He cried. He sobbed. He screamed.

He screamed and screamed, tears streaming down his face. He yelled every mean, hurtful, threatening thing that he could think of down the hall, hoping that bitch doctor would hear him. When he was done he cried again.

He didn't know what to do. He thought he was going to die from the pain and fear alone. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't stand to look at the little girl that he'd brought to that horrible place. He also couldn't stand to look away. She just smiled at him. Little Ib, so brave and smart, still after all that, still trapped with him. Her eyes stared right ahead but they were so lifeless, glossed over like painted red glass. He hated to see them, hated to scream and not see the slightest flinch in their depths, knowing she was completely gone.

He was trapped and he needed her and she was gone.

He rocked himself, sobbing into his knees, clutching his arms to try to protect himself from the cold, trying to curl in away from the pain. He was so cold.

He cried and screamed until his throat felt raw and his sounds dissolved into hiccups. His eyes burned and his head throbbed. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't do anything. He was a failure. He let her die. He was the reason she was dead.

The candle dimmed, the wick on it's last breath. It flickered as he rubbed his face, clammy with tears. He knew the weak light would plunge him into an unescapable darkness, but he was too broken to care. He just wanted Ib to come back.

When the light finally suffocated, the dark was almost a reprieve from the sight of the girl he loved. He curled up on the icy floor, now trying to hide from the darkness that surrounded him.

Ib had never been afraid of the dark.

He didn't cry much longer, broken and weak, he didn't notice when he drifted off to sleep.

… … … … …

The second day, Garry dissolved into panic.

He was thirsty. His throat was dry and he'd cried so hard the day before. Hunger clawed, starting at his side and trailing over his abdomen. He was still exhausted. He'd only slept until the hunger and thirst had gotten the best of him. He wondered if that was how that bitch doctor planned to kill him.

Turning towards Ib, he thought it was better then he deserved.

It was the same day, although he was already beginning to lost track of time in the completely dark room, when a new candle appeared down the hall.

Garry scowled as Aya stopped at the table across from his cell. "You're a lier. A murdering bitch!" He yelled, flinching as Ib came back into view. She was just a doll but it hurt to look at her.

Aya ignored him pointedly, putting a plate and cup of food and water near his cell. He lunged, trying to grab her through the bars. He didn't know what he'd do if he caught her. He'd always been a non-aggressive person but… He wanted her to hurt! He wanted revenge for what she did to Ib; for whatever she was planning to do to him.

She was too quick, pulling back out of reach. So he smacked the plate, knocking everything over, snarling at her. "Fuck you! You killed her!"

The women didn't respond. She picked up the plate, empty glass and old candle, and walked away.

It didn't take long before he regretted it. He was so thirsty. But he couldn't. He would die there just to spite her! He wouldn't take anything from her!

The next day, he wasn't as strong. He woke up out of a fitful sleep to a new candle and a glass of water. He couldn't resist, but he hurled it down the hall as best he could, heard it shatter, hoped she stepped in it. The food he avoided for as long as he could manage before he lost his will power and took a bite. It was fish. He wondered if she'd found his car. He wondered if it was the fish he'd caught with Ib.

He nibbled on it for a while, before he started to feel sick and got rid of it. What was he doing? He looked at Ib. He thought of how scared she must have been, what that witch must have done to her.

His stomach twisted and he ran to the corner, throwing it up, sobbing again.

It was another two days before Aya returned.

… … … … …

Garry didn't answer when the doctor greeted him. He wondered how long it had been. Maybe a couple of weeks. Maybe a couple of months. Days? Did it matter? He was laying on the stone, facing the wall, wishing he was anywhere else. He didn't have the energy to yell at her anymore.

Behind him, he could hear her placing his food by the cell. He'd lost all strength to not eat. Sometimes he got sick, but more often he could keep it down. He felt horrible, but maybe she would forgive him his weakness. She had always been the strong one.

The dishes made a dull sound. Aya had switched to wooden plates and cups after Garry had taken a glass shard and slit his wrist. It had hurt; the type of sharp dulling pain he'd always been afraid of. Yet, the blood flowing down his arm and pooling over the stone was the most satisfying feeling. He'd smiled. He'd grinned like a madman. He'd been filled with hope as he became lightheaded, slumping back against the walls. Fuck that bitch; he won.

But she was a doctor. He'd woken up in his cell, cuts stitched up. He rubbed his wrist, feeling hungry and weak. She wouldn't even give him a fork anymore.

Aya replaced his candle, humming a melody he had begun to recognize. Something she sang when she was in a good mood. "Some policemen came by today."

Garry almost sat up, the thought of cops inspiring a foolish optimism, before he relaxed back into the floor feeling stupid. She waited for a response, still humming along.

"They came in. I made them tea." She laughed, "They weren't interested in looking around. Not that they would have found anything. I'm very careful." Garry rubbed his arms, trying to escape the cold that had imprinted itself on his bones. "They were looking for a girl. Said she'd been kidnapped."

Garry winced. Her parents would think that. They must be so worried…

"They found the kidnappers car half a state away, but they had a tip, someone had seen the car heading up this mountain some weeks ago." She laughed slightly. "I do hope they find her."

Garry curled in a little anger swelling in his chest. Why couldn't she just go away? What did she want?

There was more silence, then "What about you, Ib? What do you think about-?"

Garry pushed himself up, glaring at her through the darkness. "Shut up! Don't say her name! Don't talk to her!"

Aya smiled at him warmly and Garry scowled curling back into himself. He'd played right into her hand. Aya began humming again, her dress swishing along, as she took the old candle and head back down the hallway.

… … … … …

He fleet like an animal in a cage. Trapped. Kept. Ill-nourished and weak. Some days he would scream until his throat was raw, others he would sit still, counting the seconds until his next scarce meal, dying of thirst.

Somedays he would start hearing things; seeing them. People screaming. His parents. Strange music, broken and trembling. Mary calling his name. Once he found himself screaming in the corner, thinking Ib had turned to him, blood poring from her eyes and neck.

Sometimes he curled up close to the bars and whispered stories to her, just to have a reason to talk, just to hear a voice that didn't hurt him.

One day Aya had been cleaning up the food he'd dumped on the floor too close to his cell. She'd thought he was sleeping. He grabbed her dress, pulled her against the bar, wrapped his arm around her neck. The thrill that filled him when she started to choke almost scared him. He demanded the key without loosening his grip, but he underestimated her strength and overestimated his own. She stuck him with something sharp, digging it deep into his arm until he screamed and she was able to escape.

"Bitch! Evil- Slut! Whore! Cunt!" He snarled out the words with as much anger and hatred as he could. He hated her so fucking much, he didn't care what he said! "I hope you die! I hope I get to kill you!"

Schooling her expression, the witch brushed off her dress, took Ib and stormed away, leaving him alone in the dying light.

Garry sank down into the corner, thinking about his failure. He was relived that he didn't have to look at the immortalized corpse of little Ib. Her eyes were so empty. Still, he couldn't help but worry. What if Aya destroyed her? She'd already murdered her and turned her body into a doll. Would it be beyond her to brutalize Ib's remains just to punish him?

He paced around his cell, just barely kept upright by his fear. He didn't think he could handle it if Aya returned with just her head- or a pile of limbs-! If his body still wasted food, he would have gotten sick again.

He ended up back at the bars, screaming "Don't hurt her!" down the hallway. Within a few hours he was crying his apology, begging her to come back, promising never to do it again.

Aya brought her back in one perfect piece and Garry cried with relief.

… … … … …

Ib wasn't his only punishment.

When he became too weak to move Aya began feeding him everyday. When he was good, or at least not misbehaving, his food was normal. Bad behavior lead to food laced with something. He knew there was something wrong with it when his hallucinations became worse. His nightmare stared to come to life before him. There was fire, paint, knives and saws. Blood everywhere. He hated those days.

Other days bad behavior meant no food at all. She wanted him to talk to her. It was hard to disobey her but he tried. When he said something she didn't like she would bring him something he couldn't bring himself to eat. Meat crawling with maggots, small animals with broken limbs, still living but unable to escape. Cups filled with blood from an unknown source.

She would serve him things to hurt him or make him ill. The cold became almost unbearable when he laid on the stones feverish and trembling. Whenever the candle flickered out, he was left in complete darkness, unable to see anything around him.

Once she'd released rats and dogs into the halls. He didn't notice until something crawled over him. He screamed. Something snarled. He lunged away from the bars as something barked and attacked the bars. His hands landed on a rat that bit him and he cried, screamed, trying to hide, pretending they weren't there as they crawled over his bare feet and brushed his legs.

He learned that Aya took other prisoners. He quickly learned not to talk to them. Aya didn't like it when he talked to them. When he'd heard the other voice screaming in the dark he'd almost cried. 'Help me! Someone!' He'd called her. Her name was Anna. She was scared. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd heard another persons voice.

She wanted him to help her. He just wanted to talk. He was knew he scared her. He told her he'd been there for a long time. He told her what she did to Ib. She cried. She told him about her family, who she hadn't seen in a long time. She told him about her sickness. He would have helped her. He told her it would be hard, but Aya hadn't killed him yet, maybe she would be ok.

He woke to her screaming. Aya had her strapped to a table outside his cell. She smiled, swinging her knife. Garry screamed. Anna screamed. Aya made the first cut.

Garry cried in the corner. Anna kept screaming.

"I hate to waste such a pretty face…" Aya purred. Anna screamed again. She begged him to help. He kept his eyes closed and rocked himself.

He didn't want to talk to the others any more. He promised not to talk to the others anymore. But she wanted him to see her pretty dolls.

… … … … …

The humming alerted him to her presence. He scrambled to the bars. A new light appeared and Aya was there replacing his candle. Garry waited silently, just waited.

"Good morning." She said.

"Is it morning?" He asked. The women laughed. He watched the food, clutching his side, brushing his long hair back so he could see better.

"How are you?"

"Starving."

She smiled widely. "I've got food. I can make that all better." She placed the plate in front of him on the ground. He attacked it, eating quickly. "How is Ib?"

Garry looked at the still girl in her chair. "She talked again. She doesn't like the basement. She thinks it's cold."

Aya frowned and Garry flinched. When Aya frowned, he was punished. His heart started pounding. "Sorry!" He squeaked. "Sorry! T-Thank you. For the food. It's delicious."

Aya froze before a twisted smile broke across her face, but Garry felt safe. She took his dishes and walked off.

He worried, panicked, but sat in the darkness, talking to Ib and playing with the shadows. That night she brought him a hot stew, with vegetables and meat and a blanket. For the first time he was ably to get warm again. He laughed, feeling happy for the first time since he took Ib fishing. Even her soft gaze didn't stir his guilt and he thought she was smiling for him. He felt asleep, warm, full, and finally free of the cold stone.

… … … … …

The rewards didn't tame him instantly. He continued to act out, but it never took long before he started talking to her again, wanting to be 'good'. He received things to finally clean his cell and a book to read. It wasn't a good book, but it was pure relief in those long hours upon hours upon hours of nothing. After time, she chained him up, for his own safety, and gave him a bath. He was uncomfortable in front of her, but the hot water made him cry. He scrubbed himself down until his skin felt raw and clean and Aya washed the oils out of his hair. He even got a towel. When he dried off, she gave him clean clothes and a tie to pull back his hair.

He thanked her profusely for the nice treatment.

As his meals became better and more frequent, his withered body started holding substance again, his sunken eyes began to fill out and his strength began to return. As his strength returned, his sanity fled. It wasn't long before he became content, trapped in his little cell with his book and his Ib. She was always there for him. And Aya… Aya took care of him.

He didn't even notice he'd lost his mind.

Aya did. She hummed as she walked down the hall, smiling brightly when Garry scrambled to the bars. "Good morning Aya!" He called, returning her warm look.

Aya sat down beside his cell, knowing she was perfectly safe. He looked well. He was clean, fit and well-fed. She kept him well. The only sign of his two year imprisonment was his abnormally pale complexion and his wide-eyed child-like stare.

"How are you today?"

He handed her a picture, his smile not faltering. "I drew a picture."

It was a drawing of herself, him and Ib standing outside, enjoying the sun. It was well done, considering how depleted his crayon box was. She would cherish it, like she did with everything he made her. Garry grinned wider, going on about the other picture he'd drawn, this time for Ib, and the new book she'd given him. Aya listened encouraging, for a few minutes before reaching out to touch his hand. He stopped instantly, waiting like a well trained puppy.

"Garry." She said softly, lifting his hand and threading their fingers together. "Would you like to come out?"

He looked startled, then nervous. "I… I don't know. Can I? Could I leave the basement? Could I go outside?"

She took a moment, testing him. "I think, we could probably do that."

His whole face lit up. "Outside! That would be wonderful!" He looked back at the young girl in her chair, beside his makeshift bed. "Ib! Aya says we can go outside! Oh! Aya, Aya! Ib… she can come with me, can't she?"

"Of course," She said with a laugh, standing up and taking a key out of her pocket. "I'd never leave Ib down here all on her own. She's your most precious doll."

Garry scooped up Ib gently, always careful not to hurt her. Aya had allowed him to keep her in his cell half-way through his second year. Not that he knew. It felt like he'd been there an eternity. When the cage door swung open, he paused before it. He was nervous. What if this was a trick? What if the world had changed? What if he'd changed?

Aya held out her hand. "Garry?"

Carefully he stepped past the bars and let her touch his arm comfortingly. "Are you sure this is ok?"

"Yes. When am I wrong?" She took her candle and started right off. Garry stayed right on her heels, afraid of being left in the dark. The hall was as he remembered it.

They passed through the operating room. There was a form underneath the cloth, but he thought nothing of it admiring the way things had changed. It had been so long since he'd seen anything other than the things in his cell. She led him down the doll hall and he smiled, greeting them like they might be friends of Ibs.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Garry's breath left him at his first glimpse of sunlight through the window above.

"Oh god-" He gasped, carefully clutching the girl he was holding.

Aya looked at him sadly. "Oh Garry… I hate that I had to keep you down here so long." She took his arm carefully, guiding him. "Come on…"

Upstairs, the warmth of the house filled him. The light pored through the windows to cover every warm wooden surface. The air was heavy and he choked on his own excitement.

Aya opened the backdoor and moved to let him out.

The sun on his face, the blue sky, the green trees, it was all so bright it hurt his eyes but he burst out laughing. "Amazing! It's so beautiful!" He found a sunny place to lay Ib where she could enjoy the sun, then threw himself on the grass and rolled around joyfully.

He ran as fast as he could around the edge of the field, climbing up in one of the trees in the yard and spent some time just jumping up and down until he was tired. When he was finished, he ran up the stairs to where Aya was watching from the doorway.

"This is amazing, Aya, thank you! This is even better then I remember."

Aya smiled and closed her eyes, tilting her head back.

Garry smiled and gave her a kiss, like she expected.

"I'm glad you're happy." She took his hands. "Now, I don't want to upset you, but when night comes you and Ib will go back downstairs." She watched the hurt and fear cover his face.

"Did I do something wrong? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean too! Can't we stay? I promise I'll be good."

"Hey now, shh… It's nothing you did. I'll bring you up in the morning. If you're a good boy, I'll let you sleep upstairs with me, ok? And you'll never have to go back in that cell again."

"Never!?" He asked excitedly.

She kissed his forehead. "Well, as long as your good. Go on and play with Ib. I'll make us some lunch." Gary nodded, running back to the field, while Aya went to the kitchen.

All around him was open space, edged by trees, and Ib's body right where he'd left her. Deep, deep down, some part of him thought about grabbing Ib and running her home. Maybe they would believe him about Aya. Maybe they would catch her. Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they would blame him. Maybe he would be locked up again, but he would escape and Ib would return home, receive a proper burial.

Another part of him didn't think about leaving.

Honestly, he knew he couldn't do it. Aya would catch them. Maybe she'd hurt Ib and he would definitely have to go back into his cell, maybe forever that time.

No. He was happy.

He was happy.

… … … … …

Aya screamed, her voice rooting down through the stone till it reached the doll hall, where Garry sat patently, shaking, but silent. He was sitting behind Ib, carefully combing her hair and separating it into parts. He was going to do some braiding. The screaming continued, as it had been since Aya sent him down there.

He didn't mind the dolls that sat around him, the remains of other patents like Ib. It had been almost a year since she'd let him out and he was well adjusted. He was used to the dolls, he helped Aya take care of them sometimes. He would hide in the bedroom when new patents came. He was good and Aya rewarded him for it.

The screaming did nothing for his nerves, but he wasn't surprised. He could hear the screaming of new patents from the bedroom sometimes, so it only made since that he heard the screams of the young women right above him. He couldn't hear the women talking to him, but he did know that he was happy when the screams stopped.

Still he waited. Aya had told him it would be hours before he could come back up. He had a lunch. He felt guilty not sharing the delicious leftovers Aya had packed him with Ib, but he knew she couldn't eat anymore. He had his book, something fun. He loved to read, since he wasn't allowed to go anywhere anymore. It was fine, he was used to being stuck in the dark just waiting for his loving Aya to let him come out.

When the bell hanging in the hall rang, the sun was almost set. Garry had to carry Ib, with her hair done up in exciting braids, in one hand and his lantern in the other, to the bedroom upstairs. He was careful, incase the nurse was still there and it was a mistake, but no one else seemed to be in the house.

He peaked into the room. "Aya?" He called gently. Aya was sitting up on their bed, supported by pillows. In her arms was a small pink bundle. "Did you finish having your baby?"

Aya looked at him, her humming stopping in a way that made him shrink back, thinking she was mad. Her hair was plastered to her face, and her eyes were dark. "Our baby." She corrected sharply, then made a sharp hand motion, calling him over.

Garry stepped into the room and placed the lantern on the side table, moving little-by-little until he was at her side. "Our baby." He repeated, a little confused. It was so hard to understand certain things after his imprisonment. But it didn't matter. There was a baby now.

Aya held out the baby so he could see. She touched the little purple tuffs of hair on the newborns soft head. It was much darker then his, probably because of her hair, but it was purple. The babes round face stayed still, unawakened by the noise or touch. "Look, she even has your hair color."

"It's a girl?" Garry asked, surprised. She had been so sure.

"Unfortunately." Aya's voice indicated that she agreed with something he wasn't thinking. "But it's fine. I know you've always wanted a daughter."

"My daughter…" He repeated slowly. "Look, Ib… You have a sister!" He held her up to see the baby better. "I bet you want to hold her, but we'd better not do that."

"Would you like to hold her?" Aya asked, lifting the child towards him slightly.

Garry stepped back, pulling Ib closer to himself, almost like a shield. "No! No, that's ok." Aya shrugged, going back to humming her song. "…What's her name?"

Aya paused again, softer the second time. "Oh… I didn't think of any girl names." She sighed. "How about Maria?"

Garry frowned, thinking of Aya's precious doll downstairs. "She doesn't look like Maria."

Aya observed her. "No. You're right, she doesn't. She doesn't look like my mother either. How about yours?" Garry shook his head. "Nobody? I suppose we need a new name." She reached for the book that was on her side table and flipped it open. "Ellen. How about Ellen?"

Garry hesitated for a moment that took too long before he shrugged. "Um, do you like it?"

She simply nodded, the moment quick but dispassionate. "Yes. It's a pretty name."

"Then I like it!" Garry hugged the girl in his arms tightly. "It starts with a vowel. Just like you and Ib,"

Aya smiled warmly as the baby began to stir. "Yes it does." She touched the babies face softly. "Hello baby Ellen."

An: Eeeeeeee~! And there you go! Aya and Garry are Ellens father. Now, I came up with this story last year, and I've been working on it since; I only learned about The Witches House backstory… three days ago… So this is based only on the game.