not a person

not a person



"Please, let me die." The doll pleaded. There, standing in the doorway of the hut, leaning against the frame, her form covered in a simple but elegant flowery dress. "I know why all sorts of dolls come to you, but I simply want to die." Her pose struck comfort, if anything.

"You don't seem to be in distress," the Witch responded. "I'm not. It's been long time since I got out. I've been out in sunlight for decades." That term, "In sunlight". Doll-blanks in processing sometimes refer to getting out of the doll-makers mansion as that.

"You don't look like you're that old, either. What's going on?" The doll lifted her dress, revealing her perfectly sculpted figure with no shame. On her left thigh, several loops of engravings, cut in her flesh; on her right thigh, a tattoo of the moon cycles.

But otherwise, her form was unblemished. Pristine, and beautiful. "I was a custom commission for a rich boy," the doll said. "His academy crush. They paid off my family to make me." The doll pointed at her left thigh. "But the boy was a sadist, you see."

"The order was rushed, and they thought, since I was bound to be attracted to pain, imbued by amplifiers and curses,", her nimble fingers tracing the healed scar pattern, "I would simply be too broken to do much." "And then," The doll pointed at her right thigh.

"they made sure that I can't die." "And since you broke out, you've been stuck with all those memories?" The witches eyes wandered up from the scar, sliding along the dolls' curved body, tracing the dips of her hips and waist muscles in the sunlight.

"No, not particularly. I mean, it was bad for a while." The dolls eyes caught the Witches. She grasped the dress with her other hand, and kept it lifted. "But by now I'm used to it. I've sorta already dealt with that." "Impressive," the Witch said, her eyes sliding back down.

"Thank you." The doll smiled. It's rare to see a doll smile like That. Coy, playful and shiny, yet confident. A bit cocky. "The boy soon learned that he did not so much want to hurt me, as be hurt as me. He wanted to be me, not to have me."

The Witch kept looking at her sunlit dolls' body, standing there, weight shifted on one leg, accepting the turn of her hip. It was indulgent, but it felt proper to look here, being offered such a sight. "He'd dress in my clothes, and try to be me." Plus, she was hot as fuck.

"I guess that didn't work out for him," the Witch said. "Nope. It's hard to match me." The doll laughed, giddy. "He ended his own life. Oh, how his family hated me. They cut me, burned me, chopped me up into little pieces, feed me to the dogs." The dolls expression changed.

Maybe she wasn't so much over this as she said. She looked down, swallowed, and looked back up. "But I kept coming back. And each time, they thought I was cursed. That I had..." Her voice trembled. "Somehow killed their boy. That it was my fault."

Her eyes sparkled with young tears bathed in warm summer beams of light. The witch stood up, and walked over, step by step on the creaking floor. She took the dolls hands in her own, and put them down, along with the dress. "They really took it out on me. That was Personal."

The Witch hugged the doll, and the doll cried on her shoulder. "I'm still mostly known as the cursed one..." she said between wails. "But that sells, too, in it's own way." The Witch her close and patted her hair. "But nobody ever really cares about me... I'm a cursed doll..."

"Well, you found me, and I care about you now. And I know more than a thing or two about curses." The witch pulled back, and lowered the high collar on her robe. A noose-patterned scar was left in her neck. "They thought I was cursed too, doll." The witch said. "Many times."

The doll fell over on the Witches body, who in turn caught her. "I just want to die," she whimpered. "I can't even enjoy love or comfort. My body wants to be broken, not loved." The doll spoke between sobs. "Or maybe that is love. I don't know. How do you love..."

"One day at a time." The Witch said. "One day at a time with care." "So, you can't get around this magic?" The doll pulled away from the witch. "Not even you?" Her voice shook with fear. "Of course I can. I can kill you if I want to."

"Fuck their magic," the Witch snarled, with her teeth pressed together. She spat on the floor. "I would break their lives -- fuck the magic. But the magic too." "You can do whatever with me, if you help me." A sense of relief washed over the dolls face. "I'm used to it."

"Oh yeah?" The Witch had lost her gentle composure. "Yes. Whatever you want. I'll be back every time, until you set me free, darling." The dolls expression shifted to a blank pleasant smile, and she brushed the back of her fingers against the Witches' cheek.

The Witch grabbed her hand, and twisted it away. "Then we'll show them what the cursed ones can do." The Witch stood up straight. "But for now, enjoy the sunlight and life. I have a few things that may sate your lust without the terror and..." The Witch looked her in the eyes.

".. without this. This is your time first." The doll tilted hed head, tears splitting her face into three parts, now drying in the summer warmth. "Just kill me." She said. "I don't want to fight." "No fighting now," the Witch said, walking back to her little table.

"Sometimes the proper way to be cursed is to just live your life." She sat down. "In the sunlight. And enjoy it. Oh, they Hate that. Trust me." "Yeah..." The doll wiped her tears. "Indulge me," the Witch said coyly. "And if you still want to die after, I'll indulge you."

"But for now... care for some tea?" Her eyes wandered on the flower motif repeated on the dolls' dress. What else could she do but sit down and take a sip? Such a warm welcome, after all. "Okay. Just indulge me a bit too." The doll obliged and sat down.

"Of course, ~darling~."The which cackled a little. "This is your place too." She stood up, and walked over to the stove, where the tea kettle was still waving wafts of lander tea into the air. "Show me your magic." The doll smiled. "We have all the time," the Witch responded.

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