CHAPTER 1 – The Escape

Xragdollkiller (3:01:05): after that, make sure to head east
Marionettextears (3:01:14): I got it
Xragdollkiller (3:01:31): are you sure? should we go over it again?
Xragdollkiller (3:04:05): claire?
Marionettextears (3:06:18): sorry, I thought he was coming… no, I got it, promise
Xragdollkiller (3:06:36): when do you want to do this?
Marionettextears (3:07:01): tonight
Marionettextears (3:07:04): I have to
Xragdollkiller (3:08:36): alright, I made the call
Xragdollkiller (3:08:43): when will you be leaving?
Marionettextears (3:08:56): as soon as you sign off
Marionettextears (3:09:01): where can I find you?
Xragdollkiller (3:09:11): just make it to the city line and you’ll be safe
Marionettextears (3:09:23): okay, god I’m so scared…
Xragdollkiller (3:09:30): claire, just run
Xragdollkiller (3:09:34): run like hell
Xragdollkiller signed off at 3:09:38 AM.


Claire sat staring at the illuminating screen of her laptop.

She bit down hard on her bottom lip, feeling the anxiety of the night begin to overwhelm her.
As if jolted, she quickly shut the lid of the laptop and slipped it into an awaiting messenger bag as her bare feet met the cold wooden floor.

After slinging the strap of the bag over her shoulder, she tiptoed towards the uncovered window of her bedroom.

The window was old with rusted hinges, and Claire cringed as she slowly eased open the panes, trying to keep their whining creak low.

She glanced briefly at her bedroom door, or more specifically the shadow on the bottom of the door that paced back and forth like a pendulum in a clock.

It reminded her of the control he tried to keep over her, and she clenched her teeth in disgust.

The gaze was slight, but every second she was trapped in this house, she felt as though she lost a piece of herself.

Turning back towards the window, she sucked in a breath as she prepared to face the moonlight.

She swallowed heavily, raising her hands near her face to get a good, last look at her skin.

It was smooth, pale, and creamy like porcelain.

Like porcelain, Claire seethed at the thought, making her move toward the window once again.

As soon as the moon’s light hit her, she felt empowered by it, and it sickened her.

Tugging up the hood of her grey sweater, Claire placed her bare foot against the pane before launching herself out of the room and descending two stories to the grassy meadow below in one fluid movement.

It was unnatural that any person should be able to jump from a second-story window and land as graceful as a ballerina, and even though Claire was surprised she could despise herself any more than she already did, these unnatural gifts she now had would be useful in her escape.

Now in the damp meadow, she was crouched like a lioness, using the high blades of the grass to shield her from what she knew was out there.

Lining the hills of the beautiful landscaping surrounding the mansion were her keepers, and they would not hesitate to recapture her, and undoubtedly return Claire to her Hell.

Crawl to the gate, he had told her, and she wasted no time making her way through the wet grass, crawling like a four-legged spider in speedy, inhuman movements.

Once she was far into the fields behind the mansion, she began to see the outline of her prison; the fifteen foot metal fence.

Excited, her movements became frantic as she raced in her odd position towards it, but in her eagerness she nearly forgot the plan.

A shadow that loomed along the fence quickly brought her back to reality and halted her hastiness.

There, a rotted-looking Ventriloquist stood as guard, blocking her path to the wood just beyond the fence.

Use the cocktail, Claire’s memory supplied to her, and before her thought was finished, her hand already had a grip on the bottle of alcohol in her messenger bag.

She felt like a soldier as she slipped a ripped piece of her bed sheet into the now opened bottle, tugging a disposable lighter from her jean pocket.

Lighting the bed sheet with one flicker of the lighter, she hefted it as hard as she could, watching it soar through the air like a meteor.

She had purposely aimed towards the Ventriloquist, and was satisfied when she heard the loud breaking of glass, and the roar of the fire that ignited.

Claire peeked up of her hiding spot and when she heard the agonizing scream of the doll, her pastel eyes on the flame-engulfed Ventriloquist as he flailed wildly in an attempt to put the flames out.

Now! She thought, and like the lioness she imitated, Claire launched from her crouched position and took off in a sprint towards the black fence.

Without breaking stride, she leapt in her run and captured the slick bars in her hands, and like a chameleon, she began climbing her way up the bars with ease and speed.

She was only a few feet up the fence when she felt something grasp onto her ankle.

Startled and off balance, she lost her footing and clung desperately with her arms, managing a glance downward at whatever grasped her ankle.

It was the Ventriloquist, still engulfed in fire; the skin melting right off his face and exposing the porcelain skeleton beneath.

Claire gasped as he pulled hard on her ankle, her hands sliding down the wet fence a few inches as her fingers began to tire.

With a smooth swing of her free leg, she kicked the forearm of the Ventriloquist, successfully snapping the weakened porcelain bone, but searing her bare foot in the process.

The Ventriloquist was on the ground, rolling back and forth as he tried to put out the flames on his clothing.

Now free of his grasp, Claire took advantage of his distraction and finished climbing up the fence, tiredly swinging her body over the peak and dropping heavily down onto the other side.

She fell the fifteen feet, keeping enough strength in her body to land straight, but before she knew it, an arm shot through the fence, grasping her around the neck and slamming her back against the bars.

The Ventriloquist, still smoking and wreaking of burnt flesh, kept her in a choke hold as she kicked and tried to struggle out of his firm grip.

Faster than she would’ve thought, blackness began eating away at the corner of her eyes and she felt unconsciousness swirling around her.

No, I can’t go back! Claire’s mind screamed, knowing she only had seconds to get out of the grip.

She began to slam her elbows hard into the Ventriloquist’s chest, successfully weakening his grasp but not freeing her.

As she continued with the sharp stabbing of her elbows, she accidentally bumped something hard on his waistband.

A gun! She thought almost without thinking, and swiftly reached back and pulled it free from his body.

In a mere second of surprise, he gasped as she lifted the muzzle up beneath his chin, pulling down the trigger and shattering his porcelain skull into a hundred fragments.

The Ventriloquist finally went down, his body now in portions of white porcelain beneath the mesh of burnt clothes, and Claire sucked in a deep breath, falling forward onto her hands and knees, grasping the gun firmly still.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight as her lungs burned for air and her foot stung from being seared by the flames.

The white mist of the Ventriloquist floated up and out of the heap, swiftly flying back towards the mansion in an eerie white globe.

No! He’ll send reinforcements! Claire thought, remembering as much from her training in the mansion, and without sparing another second she rose to her feet as she secured her bag, taking off in the fastest sprint her legs could take her.

She jumped and dived over branches and fallen logs of the woods, reminding herself of running eastward.

Run like hell, he had said, and Claire took his words to heart, becoming a blur of speed as she raced deeper into the wood and further from the mansion.

Trees went by, whipping her skin and leaving sharp, stinging flesh wounds all over her forehead and cheeks, but Claire hardly noticed them.

Please, god, I’m almost there! Claire’s mind now pleaded.

“Oh, Claaaaire!” a raspy voice taunted from the woods behind her, and without faltering her pace, she managed to make out yet another Ventriloquist leaping from tree to tree only yards behind her.

“Come back, Claire!” came another voice, female this time, and Claire almost became blinded by the tears that began forming in her eyes.

I can’t escape a Ventriloquist and Marionette, she thought in panic, her clutch on the gun tightening as she continued to run.

“Come home with us!” taunted one of the dolls, and she was forced to stop in her fast pace as the Marionette appeared in front of her.

She was tall, with freakishly thin slits for eyes that were sunken into black pits.

“No!” cried Claire, raising her gun and firing at the Marionette rapidly.

The Marionette was caught off guard by Claire’s weaponry and was struck by bullets, one arm shattering it like glass.

The doll cried out in surprise, and Claire took advantage of the moment to race past her once more.

Claire began firing blindly backward, hearing more deafening shatters of porcelain as she struck the Marionette in the leg, crippling her.

Without looking back, the desperate girl continued to charge forward, seeing an opening in the wood and lights from the buildings in the city.

Panting in both fear and exhaustion, Claire exerted whatever strength and energy she had left to her run, deafening her thoughts.

“Get back here, Claire!” the Ventriloquist growled in his raspy voice, and Claire felt cold hands clamp down on her gun-wielding arm.

The clamp was so strong Claire’s arm was pulled right from her joint, dislocating it and making it lose all its function.

The gun fell from her limp hand, and she gasped as she looked up into the face of the Ventriloquist.

His skin was green, his mouth black, and stitches held his head to his neck.

Struck by both the fear of his appearance and the knowledge of being caught, Claire screamed and swung her working arm, connecting her fist to his jaw.

She heard the porcelain bone shatter beneath his skin and felt the sharp stings of porcelain imbedded in her knuckles.

Claire stumbled backwards and suddenly lost her footing on an unsuspected slope, tumbling wildly down the hill, stirring up dirt and leaves.

By the time she finally settled at the bottom, her leg joint had been popped out of place, her ankle twisted entirely in the opposite direction.

Crying out, Claire sat up swiftly, desperately pulling herself across the dirt ground and out onto the asphalt road, dragging her useless leg behind her.

Terrified, she heard two heavy thumps just behind her.

Claire began preparing herself to be recaptured by the dolls, curling up into a defeated ball on the road.

It was the longest minute of her life as it remained silent, shocked that she was still free of cold, clutching hands.

With the last of her courage, Claire peeked out from her ball back at the hill, eyeing the Marionette and Ventriloquist standing side-by-side just on the edge of the asphalt.

“Well? What’re you waiting for? She can’t run anymore, go get her,” the crippled Marionette urged the male doll, whose frown was deep.

“Are you insane? You know whose territory this is!” the Ventriloquist exclaimed to her, and the Marionette scoffed, swinging what was left of her broken arm.

“Well, it’s not like I can grab her! She’s only a few feet away, just snatch her up real fast!” urged the irritated Marionette, gesturing at Claire.

Claire watched as the Ventriloquist pondered the order, and she began wondering what he had meant by whose territory this was.

Whoever’s it was, the male doll took a chance, stepping out onto the asphalt road, reaching for Claire with his rotting hand.

The next thing to occur happened so fast, Claire had to blink twice to believe her eyes.

Just as the Ventriloquist stepped out onto the asphalt, a giant, dark beast erupted from wood and snatched up the male doll, disappearing with him onto the other side of the dark road.

That was the last Claire saw of him, only hearing his terrified shriek echo up and down the asphalt road before there was silence.

The crippled Marionette’s smoky eyes became wide with fear and she quickly took several steps backward, seemingly unaware of her wounded leg now.

Claire and the Marionette were frozen in shock, both stunned by fear as they stared into the bushes that the beast had disappeared into with the Ventriloquist in its grasp.

There was only a brief pause of silence before a figure seemingly dropped from the sky just before Claire, landing with a light thud of boots as it settled on the road.

It was a human-like figure, completely clad in black clothing, and it raised a rather large gun at the Marionette in a swift movement.

Before she could react, the figure fired a single bullet that shattered the Marionette’s body into a million porcelain pieces, strewing her all up and down the slope of the hill.

Claire gasped, swallowing heavily as she stared at the dark figure before her.

It was only a second before it turned towards her, and she made out that it was a male by the broadness of his shoulders.

Frighteningly, she knew he was looking at her, but his face was entirely covered by a large gas mask strapped to his head, his dark hair wild and astray.

“You made it,” came a deep, filtered voice from the mask.