by Myles, Eden
I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to know. I only wanted to leave this place.
The Doctor grabbed my wrist and pulled me up. His face was strained with worry and his eyes wild. “We have to hurry, Livia. We have to get out of here before he recovers.”
“Are you…?” I swallowed, looking upon the struggling vampire clawing at the floor of the tower. “Should we kill him?”
He swallowed, looked uncertain. I knew he had counted Rothschild among his friends once. It made his decision to end Rothschild’s life far too difficult for him, I realized.
I grabbed his hand. “Let’s just run.”
He nodded. Together we hurried toward the door, and escape from Blackstone Hall.
* * *
Chapter XVI
Together we rushed out of the wizard’s tower and into the courtyard. Llorona had followed us down and was chasing our heels. I called to her, but my voice was cut short by the terrible sight directly ahead of us. Dr. Von Holtz pulled us up short before Olivia’s broken body bleeding all over the cobblestones.
I looked upon the pitiful creature, a sob catching in my throat. If only Rothschild had been more gentle, more patient…
“Oh gods, we can’t leave her here like this, Doctor.”
“There’s no way we can take her with us, Livia.” He pointed up at a window in the tower. “Look.”
A large, evil-looking, batlike creature had flown through the window and was circling the tower, listing unsteadily and dripping blood onto the stones below. It was Rothschild, I just knew it, and he was injured and angry.
Some of the guardsmen atop the battlements shouted and pointed our way. Rothschild was controlling them. I knew that too.
I bent down to touch Olivia’s hair. “I’m so sorry…”
“We’ll have to hurry,” the Doctor said, and together, hand in hand, we took off posthaste across the huge courtyard, heading toward the bailey that led to the portcullis and escape. My heart hurt from our loss, and the only thing that kept my spirits from plummeting was knowing that Llorona was trailing after us.
If we could just get to outside the castle, we’d be facing only the bridge to the village below, and from there, we’d be able to meet up with Franz and the coach. I knew if we could reach the coach, we’d be all right. Rothschild only had the night. By sunup he would need to return to Blackstone Hall or risk being destroyed in the first light of morning, and that was only a few short hours away.
We made it to the garden before disaster struck.
The long stone pathway cut between an ocean of ripe red tulips, but as the two of clattered over the stones, the wounded bat drew near, circled overhead, and slowly something happened to the tulips. They seemed to sway and grow taller. Some slithered on their hairy green stems across the stones like snakes. One tripped me up, but Dr. Von Holtz caught me, steadied me, and then were running again, toward the garden gate only a few hundred feet away.
We made it to within fifty feet or so before the enchanted tulips slithered like a writhing net across the stones. We had no choice but to race over them—there was no other escape—but as we did, several crept up the Doctor’s legs and pulled him down to his knees. I went down with him, panting hard, my hands and knees bruised by the impact.
My lover looked over at me even as the vines wound tight around his legs. “You’ll have to go on, Livia,” he panted, sounding surprisingly calm despite our dire circumstance.
“I’m not leaving without you!” I choked. I ripped my dress getting to my garter beneath. From there I took the small, very sharp hunting knife I had strapped on after my chambermaids had left me and started stabbing at the vines quickly twining around the Doctor’s legs and waist.
The Doctor looked surprised.
I cut and stabbed efficiently, with skill I was only now remembering. Black fluid poured from the vines, splattering my white dress and face. “I came prepared for anything,” I told him.
“You really are a warrior.”
I smiled even as the vines began to retract. The bat far above us let out a screech of protect, but I ignored it even as I helped Dr. Von Holtz to his feet. Our hands locked together, we rushed the last few yards out of the garden and onto the stone pavilion that led to the portcullis.
A muscular, heavily armed guard stepped out in front of us. “Halt!” he barked, raising his sword threateningly.
We were so close!
With a cry, I threw myself at him. He hadn’t expected such a bold assault, and the suddenness took him off guard, which is what I’d wanted. I slipped past him and came around, grabbing the man from behind, an arm thrown around his neck, another around his waist. He choked and flailed. My weigh threw him off balance so he went sprawling to the ground, my hold still solid around him.
The moment we were down, I raised my elbow, and sent it with a crunch into the side of his helmet. He grunted from the impact and went still in my arms. I grabbed at his sword and stood up. And just in time as three more guards jumped out!
I was stuck with a quandary. I knew I could take one, maybe two, but not three. Even I had my limits. But we needed to get past them to the gate!
I turned to Dr. Von Holtz, but I saw already he was reaching for something under his tailcoat. He pulled out a long, corked test tube full of an evil green substance, looked at me, and said, “Hold your breath,” before smashing it on the stones in front of us.
I gulped air in the last seconds as noxious green fumes drifted up from the broken vial of glass. The three guards choked and went down hard, all out cold from the mysterious substance.
The Doctor looked over them all with satisfaction.
“You too are a warrior,” I said, and he laughed.
We raced under the portcullis and out the front gate. The bridge was just ahead, only a hundred feet or so, but we were close enough to the crevice that surrounded Blackstone Hall that the wind tore at us. I stopped and stared down at the huge, gaping maw of darkness that led to some unimaginable fate. From what I understood, the crevice went down over five hundred feet or more. The both of us slowed immediately and huddled to keep away from the edge.
But just as we began to cross, the giant bat-creature swept down and blurred into the form of Lord Rothschild. He materialized so suddenly, I almost ran right into him.
His hand snatched at my throat, quick like the claws of a white cat, but I dodged at the last moment and tumbled to the rocky ground, twisted around, and thrust out my stolen sword in defense. But he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was sneering at Dr. Von Holtz. “How dare you steal my bride and abuse my hospitality, Doctor!”
“She’s not your bride,” he growled in return. “How dare you try and force that poor girl into marrying you…!” His voice was cut off when Rothschild grabbed at his neckcloth and lifted him easily off his feet.
“I am lord here,” Rothschild hissed. “My will is all. And for you disloyalty and impetuousness, I shall make you intimate with the bottom of this abyss!”
He jerked Dr. Von Holtz forward, ready to fling him out over the crevice, but I’d found my feet and I rammed the sword into the small of his back. He dropped the Doctor to the rock-strewn ground and screeched as if I’d set him on fire. Then, whipping around, my sword still sticking out of his back, he swiped at me once more.
I fell back onto the ground, much too close to the edge of the bridge. I scrambled backward in my tattered wedding gown, wincing as rocks ripped at the flesh of my hands.
“You will be mine, Olivia!” he roared and lunged at me. “You will be my Olivia!”
I twisted at the last moment and kicked out at the same time, landing my kick in his breadbasket, as I had been trained to do so many years ago. Rothschild’s claws caught the side of my face, tangled in my hair briefly, but it wasn’t enough to save him as he slid over the edge of the bridge. His long fingernails scrabbled madly at the loose stones. His eyes filled with malice and dark light, and his teeth were fully extended in his rage, but the wind was far too stron
g, even for him. He could not resist it.
With an animal-like cry, he was ripped from the edge and sucked into the darkness. I heard his cry for a long, long time. It tapered away into silence in the screaming void of the wind.
Eventually I crept to the edge and looked down, but the darkness was too deep and the night too black to see anything.
“Livia!”
I turned and saw Dr. Von Holtz standing over me. I reached for his hand and he pulled me up, touched my face. I winced at the pain. “He cut you,” he said.
“It’s all right,” I assured him. “I’m fine, Doctor.” I slid a hand up the back of his neck, leaned up to hiss him. He kissed me back as if he wanted to consume me. I knew in that moment that it was all worth it, everything. Anything, just to be with him.
Suddenly his eyes filled with terror. I drew back and was going to ask him what was wrong when he twisted around with me in his arms, hugging me close.
I heard the distinct sounds of several bowmen letting their quarrels fly. There must have been a half dozen of them at the edge of the bridge, and they were far too close to miss. Each quarrel sank into the Doctor’s back like a fierce punch, driving him forward a little at a time so that finally, when he fell, he was almost on top of me, shielding me.
“Livia…” he managed in a soft, pained voice.
I stared at the shafts of wood protruding from his back, mute with horror, with outrage.
We were so close. It wasn’t fair…
At the end of the bridge, the bowmen were starting forward, marching cautiously toward us. Some were priming their next quarrel already.
Someone was screaming. I supposed it was me.
“Livia…” the Doctor gasped out in an almost moan. “Liv…run!”
“I won’t leave you!” I screeched at him. I grabbed at his shoulders, tried to drag him to his feet, but he was all dead weight, and the stones beneath him were slick and pained with his blood. My footing slipped and I fell back down, with his head in my lap. “Oh gods…Doctor…please don’t die!”
He lifted his arm and pushed me forward. “R-run…” he managed to get out. “Liv…ia…love…”
“I love you too,” I said in the moments before his body stopped moving.
The bowmen were coming, struggling to aim their compound bows and still weather the strong winds from the crevice without being sucked down into it like their master. How I was torn. I wanted to throw myself over the Doctor—my creator’s—body, protect it at all costs, but I knew he was gone. My Doctor was dead. My creator was destroyed. He’d died protecting me, to save me.
I had to think like the warrior I was. I had to think like he would think.
I withdrew my hunting knife and sliced a lock of his hair. I held it close. Then, the warrior that I was, I forced myself to my feet and fled into the night. A hail of quarrels followed me, but all missed their mark. I ran on.
* * *
Chapter XVII
6 Months Later
The laboratory at Ravenwood, the estate where Dr. Von Holtz grew up, was vast and modern, even by today’s standards. I was always so impressed by it on stepping into the room in the morning. Unlike the lab at Blackstone Hall, this one was bright and cheery, full of sunshine from the east-facing windows. The machines and experimental devices scattered about were untarnished and well preserved, the glass apparatuses spotless, the floors always swept clean, the thousands of books neatly arranged on their shelves.
Franz was very meticulous about caring for his former master’s lab.
“Good morning, Llorona,” I said to the owl where she rested on her perch near the giant bookcases. Llorona stirred, turned her head around, and gave me a slow, bleary blink of her big yellow eyes. I leaned down to touch her soft white feathers and kissed her on the head. She warbled in response.
“You’re in a cheery mood this morning,” I told her. “But then, it’s quite a special morning, isn’t it?”
She warbled in response to that as well, as if agreeing with me.
I smiled, the first time in too long, and moved past her to my work bench. My beakers, flasks and crucibles were all in order, my research papers neatly stacked in my journal. Franz was very good about tidying up the lab after a long day of work for me. Sometimes I worked so long into the night I literally fell asleep at my work bench.
It had been a long six months.
I picked up my glasses and put them on. I turned toward the Device in one corner.
It was larger than the one at Blackstone Hall, older, a prototype, but it worked just as well as the one the Doctor had built for Rothschild’s ill-fated attempt to bring back his bride. The only real difference between them was the glass compartment built into it for the subject was laid out horizontally instead of vertically.
I stepped up to the glass and saw the Devices was glowing and humming appropriately. I checked my readings and confirmed that the subject was complete.
My heart started knocking with anticipation in my chest and my hands shook slightly as I slid back the compartment glass. I looked down at my lover’s dear face. He was coated with a shining, birthing mucus, but he was still my creator. My all. “Doctor,” I said. “Dr. Tristan Von Holtz. Can you hear me? Can you understand me?”
He breathed steadily in and out, in and out. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell. Then a finger twitched.
I touched his face and he opened his eyes suddenly.
“Doctor,” I said with hope. “Do you know who I am?”
At first I saw confusion. Then his eyes cleared and became fierce and bright and blue. He reached up to touch my cheek with his wet fingers.
“Livia. My pleasure doll,” he said.
* * *
THE DOLLHOUSE SOCIETY: ISABELLE
by Eden Myles
“Izzy Pop, you still looking for part time work on the weekend?” my best friend Stefan Janovich asked, stopping me in the hallway of my dorm by putting his hand on my arm. I looked at it and he quickly yanked it away.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. He knew how little I liked being touched by anybody, even my gay best guy friend. He ran his hand nervously through his tousled yet stylishly spiked blond hair and grinned, saying, “You said something the other day…”
“Yeah,” I interrupted. “I did. And yeah, I’m still interested.” I smiled to try and make up for reacting so badly, but it felt fakey. I’d never been a very good liar. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Stefan; touching just set me off, no matter who was doing it. When I went to concerts with my friends, I avoided the mosh pits like the plague. “What do you have for me?”
He handed me a scrap of paper torn from his notebook. “It’s a housecleaning position. I mean, not glamorous or anything, but it pays really well, and I know…you know, you can use the cash.”
I gaped as I threaded my way around the students in the corridor, Stefan tagging after. “This is a pretty exclusive neighborhood, Stef.”
“Yeah, well, the guy’s pretty exclusive.” He gestured up and down his handsome face with a hand as we walked toward my dorm room. “Dr. Michaels is the surgeon who fixed my face pro bono back when.”
“Oh,” I said, catching on. “Yeah, I think I remember him.”
I had vague memories of a tall, cold-faced doctor swiftly passing me in the halls when I was going to visit Stefan in the hospital.
Stef and I had grown up together, but when he was thirteen, he and his mom were in a terrible car crash. They both made it, thankfully, but the windshield shattered and Stefan’s face was cut up pretty badly. It took seven surgeries by Dr. Dorian Michaels, the top plastic surgeon in the city, to restore his natural good looks, but despite all the pain and recovery time, Stefan had been a real trooper through it all.
“I remember you said you couldn’t stop fantasying about him.”
He grinned at that. “He’s pretty hot. But I think he’s a little out of my league.”
“Too old. Too rich,” I guessed.
Stef
an laughed. We were both so poor!
“He gay?”
“I wouldn’t send you to him if he wasn’t,” he said.
“You just want me to fix you up.”
He laughed again. “Maybe.”
“Aww, poor Stef, always the bridesmaid, never the bride,” I said as I reached my room. Stefan always had a lot of boyfriends, but his many relationships never seemed to amount to much, mostly because Stefan was a notorious wanderer. As soon as he had a great guy, he started finding flaws and looking for greener pastures.
“I’m just picky.”
“Uh-huh.” I keyed open my door and turned. “Wanna hang? I have double fudge ice cream and The Scarlet Pimpernel from Redbox.” The Scarlet Pimpernel was Stefan’s favorite movie. He had a massive crush on Leslie Howard.
Stefan sort of hmmed and hawed, and I quickly got the feeling he had something hot and well-muscled planned for tonight. Still, I knew he didn’t want to leave me alone. I’d been there for him all through his recovery. He wanted to be here now for mine.
Get it together, Iz!
I knew I had to find a way to let him off the hook. I’d decided some time ago I didn’t want to be one of those clingy people who’s afraid to be alone. “On second thought, maybe I’ll turn in early. I had to cram half the night for that killer History exam today.” I made a show of yawning.
“I can stay,” he said but I held up a hand to stop him.
“Nah. Gonna shower and turn in.”
He put his hand on the door. “You sure, Izzy Pop?”
“Absolutely!” I beamed a smile for him.
After we said our goodbyes, and I promised to meet him in the student cafeteria for breakfast tomorrow morning, I closed and locked the door, then slid the three latches into place that I’d installed a few months ago. After that, I dropped my books on my desk and went to shower, leaving the bathroom door wide open so I could hear if anyone was trying to get in.
