A Doll is posed over a whimpering mess of a Plaything holding a cigarette it doesn't even have lungs to smoke in its articulated porcelain fingers. It takes aim for The Thing's clavicle, just above it's breast. And snuffs the cherry out on singed flesh. The Thing cries and attempts to pull away. But it's trapped by a bulky silver prong collar on a tight leash. The Doll remains steady and unrelenting, keeping the cigarette fused to The Thing's chest for an eternity. Its black silk dress getting covered in the drool and tears from The Thing as it cries.

A crowd of faceless people walk by as this helpless thing writhes around on the ground. Some stop to watch, others let out a giggle, but most move on as if the two aren't even there at all.

Until one Innocent Girl steps up. Heart racing, but she's unable to stand by as such a weak creature gets treated like this. "I,,, I don't know if you should be doing that."

"Doing what, darling?" The Doll tilts its head to one side. "Giving it what it asked for? It knows what to say when its too much."

"I mean,,, does she,,, can she even think about that?" Her confidence melts away, leaving her a quivering mess. She glances at The Thing, clinging to The Doll's boots, dazed and glassy-eyed.

"First," The Doll flicks the lifeless cigarette on the ground and watches its toy lunge for it. "'It' is not a 'she.' Second, it sounds like someone needs a lesson on how to keep to herself." Its painted face shows no emotion, but excitement seeps into its voice through that unmoving mouth.

In one motion it's within inches from The Girl's face. So close she can see the small cracks in the porcelain. The places where the white paint has been touched up. Each paint stroke detailing its eyelashes. "Do you need a lesson, darling?"

Her eyes dart around the space. Wide open, plenty of bystanders. But no one would care. She can't quite seem to even make out any doors for her escape.

"N,,no,,," she speaks so quiet she can barely hear herself. But that unmistakable seed of excitement mirroring The Doll's finds itself planted within her voice.

"No isn't good enough. My little pet here says 'no' all the time but I know she still wants it." The Doll pulls on the leash. Hard. Metal chain wrapped around its hand so taut, it would have cut off circulation if The Doll had any blood moving through its body. The strain on the leash drives the prongs deeper into the warm flesh of The Thing sat whimpering at its heels. "Which is why we need safewords, isn't that right pet?" The Doll turns its head to the side. Full attention to The Girl. "You do know what a safeword is, right?"

"Ummm,,, I think so,,, like 'pineapple' or something silly when people do weird sex stuff." It's a nervous, trembling sort of voice, but in it creeps a strange smile. Her eyes grow wide, drowning in how close she is to such porcelain perfection.

"Yes! Good job, darling!" The sounds of a suppressed laugh came from somewhere, but its face remained unchanged. "We use 'red' here but I'm glad the little one has the right idea. Would you like to try it out?"

Before she has the time to react, icy claws tear into the soft flesh of the back of The Girl's neck. Frozen in shock, she relishes in the hot waves of pain that overwhelm her entire body. Legs limp and unable to move. Mouth hung open as ragged gulps of dry air roll across her chapped lips. Face contorted into a wince as she brings an arm up in protest. Then it falls again to her side. The Doll's talons grip tighter, deeper into her neck.

"No! Stop!" Her voice is hoarse and foreign. Other useless words tumble from her trembling mouth. Spit flying out as she cries. With every passing second, The Doll's nails sink deeper and deeper. It's unending. There has to be blood trailing down her neck by now, but everything is so hot and hazy she really can't tell.

Something cold presses to her ear, for a moment it feels like relief. "I know you know what to say."

The hair on her back raises and her skin becomes somehow even more sensitive. The Doll is all around her. She opens her eyes and sees nothing. Nothing but porcelain and blood.

*I know you know what to say* It reverberates through her entire being. She hurls every word she can think of at The Doll, but its grip gets stronger. The way it's said with such certainty for something that's so impossible and out of reach.

*I know you know what to say* It's a purr in her ear. Taunting her with the relief of a cold compress against her flushed skin.

But she doesn't. The sharp pain in her neck is like The Doll has taken root inside her. Nested within her skin and has taken over.

The pain spreads. Her head is pounding. Legs could give out at any moment. And all she can see is her limp body dangling from The Doll. Becoming one of the adornments on her hands, no more than just another ring on a glossy eggshell finger.

*I know you know what to say* Has become a mantra now. The harder she tries to remember, the deeper the roots take place. The more words and meaningless sounds that fall from her lips, the more blood she's positive she's losing. She flails her feet. Her tingling hands have found their way to The Doll's arm, but it remains unmoving. Slick red blood burns against her palms.

Through tunnel vision she can barely see her hands. The metallic scent hits her much sooner than she can really register what she's seeing.

"Red!" It doesn't feel like a word, but a cry. A prayer in a single syllable. Just as fast as it came the pressure was gone. Released, she collapses to the floor, her body throbbing as if to sob without shedding a tear. Only then is she sure of how much blood is trickling down her throat and in between her cleavage.

"Isn't she so pretty and pathetic lying on the floor?" The Doll laughs, tugging on it's Plaything's leash. She gives a small kick to the wounded girl, still reeling and catching her breath.

Arms are quaking under the weight of her failing body. She stares out into the sea of people going about their days as if nothing has changed. As if they haven't just bore witness to a Goddess.