Dark in the Dollhouse Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Dollmaker

Read chapter 2 of Dark in the Dollhouse by Haspberry on NovelPedia.

A soft, squelching sound of metal slicing open flesh rang out in the dimly lit room. Sometimes, crunching sounds akin to the cutting of charred skin would ring out as well. Evander worked on the body of the half-dead woman. Step by step, he methodically revived her. He operated on her with twelve arms. Two were his, the other ten were arms of wooden appearance with complicated joints that floated and moved as if having wills of their own. They remained connected with Evander with thin, black threads that extended from the back of his neck. The humanoid arms had many tools in their hands ranging from scalpels and forceps all the way to saws, hammers, carving knives and injections with various kinds of fluid in them. They moved with smooth and precise movement. When the black threads would come into contact with one another, they would pass over each other like they were nothing more than illusions. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours as the arms and Evander did their work. Within this time, Evander had remained seated wearing an impassive expression on his face. Unfazed and unbothered, he worked as if he all he was doing was washing dishes after a light meal. He didn't even sweat as he took on the burden of reanimating a nearly burnt out life from the unrelenting clutches of death. After what felt like a hundred hours of doing nothing but surgery, Evander let out deep sigh. The wooden arms around him dissipated into thin air, signalling the end of the operation. "Phew. How troublesome. It'd be far more easier if you were dead. I could've just buried you and occasionally put flowers over your grave. But I guess I have to give it you little miss, you have quite the tenacity," he chuckled and took out a cigarette from the breast pocket of his lab coat. The tip of the cigarette sparked. He took in a smoke and released it, relishing the addicting aroma. It was a specialised medicinal cigarette with mind relaxing capabilities and a calming sensation. It also came with a rich flavour of cocoa. Evander looked down and observed his creation. On the makeshift operating table, there was something which resembled a human. A 'body' half made of flesh and half made of wood. It was a horrid and monstrous creation. Part of her face had an eye, half a mouth and half a forehead. The rest was completely made of wood with very intricate and life-like carvings. Half of her head had real but unruly hair while the other half had thin strips of dyed paper. The rest was no better. Her stomach, right leg, left arm and many other organs and body parts were fully replaced by wood, both inside and out. The left of her chest which had her heart and was made of flesh met the right which was made of wood. The points meeting flesh and wood were bound together by a combination of nails, glue and stitches. She was half human, half marionette. This monstrous creation—one which could make even the most adamant deniers of the Stars pray—lied silent and still. Eyes closed, mouth shut, the creation in front of him showed no signs of being alive. But that was all within expectations. After all, he had yet to imbue life. Evander finished his cigarette. He got up from his seat and stretched his body. Letting out a yawn, he said, "I'm tired. Let's get this over with." He turned his right hand around and stared intently at his palm. Soon enough, a coruscating pinkish light emanated from the creases of his palm. The lines of light which seemed to be embedded inside, stood up one by one. They extended and intertwined, forming a black playing card. The card had a stellar black back with pinkish engravings and embellishments. The front of the card resembled that of an ace, but instead of two A's in the corner, there were N's. And instead of any of the four houses, there were three resplendent pink gears arranged diagonally from largest to smallest. An unbearable pressure pushed down on his shoulders. His knees almost buckled as he felt an innate urge to