POSTED: 10/16/00
REVISED: 04/14/01
AUTHOR: Jay / carboxylated@yahoo.com
ARCHIVE: Gundam Wing Addiction (Tyr), Desolation Angels (Ashura, if
she wants it)
[Full fiction index @ http://www.geocities.com/fenris_wolf0]
Disclaimer: Mobile Suit Gundam Wing is not mine, but belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and Sunrise. ;_; The characters and timeline have been borrowed for my own fiendish fangirl ends.
Title: The Dollhouse
Category: Yaoi, AU, horror.
Timeline: AU (Alternate Universe)
Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 13+5
Rating/Warning: R. Violence and more than your daily recommended use
of madness.
Feedback: Craved, desired, wanted, coveted, yearned for, wished for,
and longed for. C&C will be repaid with dancing G-boys, my endless
adoration, as well as a nice slice of karma.
/... .../ = thoughts
His dreams were fitful once again, and he finally awoke with a loud gasp, eyes roaming to take in his surroundings. Relaxing fractionally, Duo rose, tucking a loose robe around him, his body somehow impelled to leave his room. His fingers brushed the doorknob, and he hesitated. As his mind contemplated returning to the warm bed, his hands turned, and he found himself on the other side of the door.
"Up late?" Heero's voice resonated through the halls. Duo turned with a small start and stared at the spectrally pale skin and swept hair of the boy facing him, who only queried again with his eyes.
Masking his irritation, Duo merely nodded. Heero raised a lit candle and motioned for Duo to follow him. As they began to walk, side-by-side, he asked casually, "How do you find Bedlam now?"
"I find it... monstrous," Duo said quietly. "Terrifying. I'll be glad to leave it."
Their eyes met. Duo's dropped first.
"It's a pity," Heero commented. "It's terribly lonely here."
"What do you mean?" Duo asked stiffly. "You've got Quatre... Treize..."
Heero snorted. "Neither of which fit my tastes for companionable sport. Quatre is usually absorbed in music or..." Here, he chuckled. "Or busy instructing our dear Trowa-- no doubt in the finer points of service." A feral smile crossed his face as they stopped by Quatre's bedroom. Raising a cautionary finger to his lips, Heero then opened the door with a swift turn-click.
Moonlight fell over the massive bed, illuminating the mahogany frame and white linen. It was empty.
Duo couldn't resist a smirk.
"My dear cousin evidently finds his own quarters... too expansive for his tastes." Heero closed the door, and they continued walking. "And Treize... well, I'm sure the reasons are all too obvious why Treize and I are not extraordinarily close, despite some similar aspects of our personality." He paused to give Duo a slight smile. "Ruthlessness, for one. But one I choose not to indulge frequently," Heero added. "It is rather... graceless."
"Heero?" Duo asked, uncertain. "Where are we going?"
"The basement level," came the calm answer. Duo froze, but Heero's hand had crept to seize his wrist, and now he pulled him on inexorably. "I think there's something you ought to see."
His protests died in his throat. Heero's hand was cold, clammy, and somehow distant, as if it were not really real. The halls were dim and obscured, passing too as if they were only a dream. Only the steady, suddenly loud noise of his heart told him he was awake.
Slowly, they descended a final flight of stairs. A heavy steel door barred their way, but it proved to be unlocked as Heero entered, pulling Duo in after him. Setting down the candle, he clapped his hands. The lights went on, and Duo gasped.
It was a long hallway that stretched down to a single room as far as he could see. On his right and left branched off numerous cells, their doors shut tightly, keeping whatever demons that inhabited them free from the light that currently lit the walls up and their horrific artistry.
Each length of the walls-- and most of the floor-- was covered in scrawls and drawings. Dark ink and dried red, crisscrossing designs seemed to illustrate the possible insanity of the human psyche, decorating what was once a pristine white. There were grim pictures of winged creatures, their teeth snapping through their lips. There were even loopy flowers and pictures of a lopsided sun, fanged moons and row upon row of meticulously drawn headstones, names printed in tiny blocks across cramped spaces; there were screaming mouths licked with flames, demons and devils, phantoms and spirits... But it was the writing that chilled him, as his eyes ran over the letters. "As I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to eat," "Hail mary good god jesus Christ hear me," "I've been bad so bad so bad," "blue lights killing lights,"; all of them in a ceaseless mantra, a song of almost lyrical genius, with a streak of madness that seemed to strike Duo as each new phrase was revealed to him in the bright light of the hall.
It was chaos, the veritable bedlam that was the house's name.
"The institution closed down when the inmates escaped," Heero said quietly. "They escaped... but they never went outside of the manor; they stayed inside and wrote these things..." He looked away for a moment before meeting Duo's eyes. "It's blood, you know."
"Blood?"
"The doctors," he replied calmly. "They killed the doctors."
There was a sharp intake of breath as Duo surveyed the scene around him again, unable to tear his eyes away. "This is atrocious," he murmured.
"There's more," Heero said, picking a careful path around the images on the floor and heading towards the room at the end. Duo stared for a moment-- he could have sworn that he'd seen a sudden flash of blue light emanating from the dark room, but that would have been impossible-- but he followed anyway. Heero was peering through the glass, and he made room for his companion. Duo raised himself up on his toes, staring into the room.
He couldn't scream.
It remained firmly lodged in his throat, despite the fact that he needed to scream at the sickening, impossible sight. Even as the blue lights played over his face and hurt his eyes-- he couldn't scream.
Treize was leaning over the figure of a little girl.
/Mariemeia.../
The wheelchair was nowhere to be seen.
Her face was darkened; he couldn't see anything beyond their figures, but he could hear somewhere the click and whirl of machines, he could see the dancing blue lights, her jerking body held in place by heavy restraints, and-- just barely-- the outline of a plush infant mouth, opening wide in a voiceless scream.
And Treize, his expression almost beatific, marveling over her as the lights danced and her body jerked.
The air smelled like burning flesh. He thought he could choke on the stench.
Treize leaned over, and his hands caressed her face, expression tender.
Even when he leaned back-- adjusting the knobs on some equipment, checking
against some scrawled notes-- his expression of crazed adoration and--
longing?-- never changed. The child was screaming-- he couldn't hear it--
and the smell of sulfur...
A voice tickled the back of his head.
/I've been so bad./
/I'll be so better./
/I--/
The voice shifted into a chorus, a choir of rumbling.
/We killed the Dollmakers./
She was dying.
/Our truths are our truths./
/Father, please--/
/We'll grind their bones to make our bread./
He still couldn't see her face.
/Please./
"Do you see, Duo?" a voice whispered.
He turned to look, mind half-registering the fact that the voice was not Heero's.
Mariemeia Khushrenada stared at him with hollow eyes. "Do you see now, Duo?" she asked, almost pleading, spreading her hands wide. "Do you see?"
The scream that had been locked in his throat finally tore loose.
"Duo!"
His mind was fuzzy. All he could remember was the echo of his screams. With the realization of what had happened, his eyes snapped open to see the anxious face of Quatre Winner.
Duo scrambled up; his hands touched soft blankets.
He was in his bed.
/Was it a dream...?/
He turned to see that the entire household was assembled by his bed. Quatre looked at his face, the question clear.
"We... we..." his voice faltered, then strengthened. "We found you down in the cells, Duo." He hesitated. "You'd screamed so loud, you woke the entire household. We had to get the keys to get you out of there."
"Heero..." Duo mumbled. "He lead me down there."
Quatre and Heero exchanged looks.
"Impossible," Heero stated. "Quatre will tell you that I was upstairs. I ran down with him to get you."
Duo looked at the faces around him, uncomprehending. "I... Heero..."
"It must have been a dream," Heero said gently.
Duo lay back down, emotionally drained. "You had to get the keys?" he asked softly.
The faces hovering over him became more uncertain.
"I don't know how you got in there," Quatre admitted. "It was locked. Perhaps..." His voice trailed off, offering no explanation.
Duo blinked and then stared at Treize. "The lines? Are they functional?"
"No," Treize replied, face drawn and weary. "Still out, I'm afraid."
"I want to leave," the lying boy said slowly and carefully. "I'd... I'd like to leave, now."
"You can't," Quatre sighed. Trowa nodded his silent assent and then spoke up.
"Perhaps Wufei and I can fetch you breakfast, Master Duo?"
Duo nodded, too tired to reprimand the boy for the unnecessary formality.
"You must have been sleepwalking," Heero commented. "It's quite remarkable.
We found a candle by the door, too." His dark eyes met Duo's violet gaze.
"Absolutely extraordinary."
The sun was high in the sky, but Duo hadn't left his bed. He simply deemed it unsafe. His fretful mind worried over the communication lines, which Quatre promised would be restored soon.
Someone knocked on the door. Assuming it was Trowa with his lunch, Duo raised his voice: "Come in."
Heero entered, bearing a tray.
"Lamb," he said. "With sautéed vegetables. And red wine. I'm not sure what kind, though."
Duo stared as the tray was carefully set down, and Heero sat in a nearby chair. "Well? Eat."
Raising his fork and knife reluctantly, Duo began eating. The food was excellent, but his mind was elsewhere.
"Are you lonely?" he asked, eventually.
Heero raised one eyebrow, and shrugged noncommittally. "The Yuy family is... not known for their companionability," he replied.
"Are you lonely, though?" Duo pressed.
"Occasionally," he admitted, shifting uncomfortably in the velvet-lined chair, his hands draped along the arms.
"Is that why you want me to stay?"
Heero was silent as he considered the question. For his answer, he merely gave Duo an inscrutable look.
Duo sighed softly and took a sip of his wine. Without warning, Heero sat up swiftly and plucked the glass from Duo's hands. Setting it aside, he leaned forward and captured Duo's lips in a bruising kiss, one hand stroking his chin, the other trailing through the masses of chestnut hair.
Straightening after a prolonged moment, their mouths reluctantly parted, and Duo watched the blue-eyed boy with a new gleam in his eye.
"What was that for?" He cocked his head, curious.
Heero swiped his tongue across his lips and grinned wolfishly. "The wine," he said. "Château Greysac Médoc. Excellent vintage."
With that, he left.
Duo stared at the half-emptied glass that sat on the bed stand. Raising
his fingers to his lips, he touched them briefly before shaking his head,
bemused and strangely-- sated. Closing his eyes, he slept. This time, no
dreams or phantom visions bothered his slumber.
"Uncle?"
Treize turned his head and nodded at his blond nephew, who crept closer to him. Wufei inclined his head respectfully, but kept a firm grip on the handles of the wheelchair.
"Uncle," Quatre spoke again. "You look tired."
"The events of the previous nights have left me... somewhat deprived of my habitual rest," he answered, somewhat carelessly. He turned his gaze away, ignoring the patient sigh that emitted from Quatre's lips.
To his surprise, Wufei spoke up. "Master Quatre is right, sir." They were mellow tones, although somewhat strained. "A little rest would agree with you."
"I am resting," Treize replied, a little irritated. He made a grand, sweeping gesture. "This is the only place I can rest," he said bitterly, ignoring the hurt look in Quatre's eyes at the double meaning.
"Uncle..." he sighed and followed Treize's gaze. "Uncle, this is not healthy-- to dwell like this. It was... tragic, and I will not dispute your right to grief, but... uncle, it's been so long..."
"This is the only place I can rest," Treize repeated.
Quatre sighed, but he sat down. The three of them gazed over the surface of the placid lake, rippling in the light wind.
Near the bottom, wisps of silk danced in a weaving ballet.
End Part 4
Jay <-- responsible for the madness and torture; won't you feed me?
Jay
Please send comments to: carboxylated@yahoo.com