House of Dolls 3

by Harmon Cooper

  And he welcomed it.

  There was nothing Roman wanted more than to be with Celia in that moment, part of him remembering the real Celia, seeing the resemblance between the two, how much his deceased wife had shaped who he was—enough that imbuing his consciousness onto a lifeless object had actually given that object her personality.

  And in that moment, he didn’t think about how this could end, if completion was even a possibility. He didn’t think about the woman holed up in his home waiting for him to return, the sadistic hunter from the West bringing her insanity into Roman’s life.

  He also didn’t think about the fact that there were two known healers in all of Centralia, the one that had been broken out of prison and the other in this very home.

  Also barely scratching the surface of his mind was the fact that tomorrow would be his ceremony, that he would be an exemplar from that point forward, and that he should celebrate the fact, even though in becoming an exemplar he was also becoming a pawn of the government, a spy to be.

  All Roman thought about was the blueness of the room, ultramarine, the way it seemed to edge along Celia’s flesh as she took her top off, the royal color spreading up her rib cage, circling around her breasts, stopping at her nipples and reversing, moving up to her neck, her face partially hidden, the two of them one.

  There was no more grinding of their nether parts, no waiting for her to be wet enough for Roman to slip inside, no strains on the side of his cock.

  His movement was natural, their union written in cerulean, slow gyrations of his hips matching Celia’s, her back slightly arched now, Roman naturally bringing his hand to her ass cheek, cupping it, his hand moving down even further, his pinky touching the side of his cock as it moved in and out of her pussy, his middle finger grazing against her asshole.

  Celia moaned softly, and Roman squeezed his hand even harder as she picked up her pace. She threw her head back, her red hair bouncing against the top of her shoulders, her throat exposed, her perky nipples cutting an angle to the ceiling.

  Roman kissed the spot between her breasts, he sucked on her nipples, he brought her in closer, his ear to her chest listening for her…

  No heartbeat.

  Roman stopped for a moment, momentarily taken off guard.

  “What?” she asked, her voice hardly a whisper. “Why did you stop?”

  “You are perfect,” Roman said with a smile, starting again, forgetting who he was in that moment and what it meant to be so attracted to one’s own creations.

  None of those things mattered.

  Societal norms didn’t matter, what others thought didn’t matter, life itself didn’t matter, proof evident in the beautiful doll who continued to fuck him.

  Chapter Seventeen: Becoming

  Roman was told to come alone.

  Leaving the dolls at Nadine’s safehouse, he teleported to the lottery commission’s side entrance, where he met Ava, who was wearing white robes, her red hair at odds with the light material.

  “They make a big thing out of it,” Ava started to say, gesturing at her robes.

  “As they should,” said Roman. “It’s a pretty big deal.”

  “The day a non-exemplar becomes an exemplar. I guess you’re right, it is a pretty big deal. Something most people don’t get to experience.” Ava shrugged. “Follow me, and just go with it. Like I said, it’s a little strange.”

  “What is the history of this anyway?” Roman asked as he entered the building, the two moving past a pair of Centralian soldiers in ivory uniforms. These uniforms were mainly ceremonial; they looked sharp, important, and Roman assumed it was hard to keep them clean.

  “It has been going on for quite a while, but the ceremony actually stems from something else, an event that occurred hundreds and hundreds of years ago.”

  “Really?”

  Ava nodded. “There was a female exemplar who had the ability to grant exemplar powers to others. She would hold a yearly competition for non-exemplars, and the winner would be granted a power. Of course, like our ceremony here, the powers granted were random.”

  “What kind of competitions?”

  “Mainly art,” she explained as they turned down a dimly lit corridor. “She wasn’t fond of combat, so it wasn’t that type of competition. It was mainly academic exercises and works of art. She believed that there really wasn’t a difference between exemplars and non-exemplars, even if exemplars had heightened abilities. Non-exemplars could create the exact same things as exemplars given talent and resources. Now, of course, they’ve monetized it, the money supposedly going toward public education but generally ending up in…” Ava smiled. “You know, I probably shouldn’t comment on things I hold no power over.”

  “Yeah, the government could be listening,” Roman said with a chuckle.

  Ava laughed as well. While the Centralian government had its faults, it wasn’t like the governments in some of the other countries. Citizens, including government employees, were generally free to voice their opinions and ideas. It was rare that Centralia spied on one of its own citizens.

  “How does the power get transferred?”

  “The same way it did before, from an exemplar to a non-exemplar.”

  Roman stopped. “Is this exemplar still alive?”

  Ava turned to him, a smile taking shape across her face. “No, that would be impossible. You are familiar with the runes they use in the South?”

  Roman nodded. He’d heard of these enhancements, and there were many who believed the red Southern Alliance tattoos were related to these ancient markings.

  “They use these runes to pass the power to a new holder whenever the previous exemplar is set to retire.”

  “And who is this holder currently?” Roman asked.

  “My sister,” Ava said, her smile thinning.

  “Damn, I didn’t know you were that connected…”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know,” Ava said as she led Roman into a circular room with a soaring ceiling, stained glass at the top. The members of the Council stood around the room, each in white robes that matched Ava’s.

  One of the women, whom Roman knew as Ava’s sister, gestured for him to come before her.

  Roman barely had a second to consider the fact that she had been granted her power in (what sounded like) the same way he’d been given his power, although hers was a focused power, his completely random.

  He was told to kneel, pledge allegiance to the Centralian government, and once he did so he was told to stand. It hurt his knee to stand, like he’d been kneeling for a long time. There was a shimmer to everything as well, halos above each of the Council members’ heads.

  Ava’s sister stared deeply into Roman’s soul. “By the power vested in me, Roman Martin, you will now be classified as an exemplar.”

  One of the men next to Ava’s sister lifted both hands, and a strange light moved down Roman’s body. It was a warm light, and it left him with a fuzzy feeling that soon faded away.

  Not sure of what he should say or do next, Roman simply stood there, hands at his sides, like he was getting dressed down at a military academy. Luckily, Ava wrapped her arm in his to lead him away, Roman awkwardly looking over his shoulder as they stepped out of the room.

  “That’s it?” he asked.

  “We were in there for an hour,” said Ava. “Did you want to stay in there for any longer?”

  Roman blinked a few times, as if that would do any good. “Wait, did you say that was an hour?”

  Ava nodded. “Oh, I bet that was Gary. He likes to manipulate time when he has to do something that bores him.”

  “Did you say time was manipulated in there?” Roman asked as they turned down a hallway with marble floors and portraits lining the walls. “There’s an exemplar who can manipulate time? That’s some god-level shit right there.”

  “Yes, he’s able to manipulate it on everyone but himself, apparently. Gary is in his seventies, but acts like he’s in his teens. His power can feel pretty s
trange if you’re not used to it. Did you sort of feel like you were having an out-of-body experience in there? Like everything was happening and you were witnessing it—anything like that?”

  Roman weighed his response for a moment. “I don’t know if that’s how I would describe it; I felt like it just happened very quickly, that’s all. And my knee hurt.”

  “That’s because you were kneeling for a good thirty minutes. Anyway, we have a little time before training begins. Shall we grab breakfast?” Ava asked.

  “I mean, sure, if that’s what you would like to do. What type of training are we going to do today?”

  “It’s less of a training session and more of a demo session. People from the spy agency want to see what you’re capable of, so I figured we would give them a show.” Ava turned in the direction of the locker rooms. “Let me get changed; I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

  Chapter Eighteen: Demo

  “And you are sure they can’t come?” Roman asked, referring to Coma and Celia.

  “No, not for this test,” Ava said. “Not yet, anyway.”

  The two stood outside the locker room, back from a quick breakfast at a local diner, Roman already changed into his training clothing. He was a bit nervous, the feeling weighing heavy on him as he followed Ava down the hallway to the gym they always trained in.

  Standing at the other side of the space were four people, each dressed in formal wear, two men and two women. Black masks covered their faces, revealing just a small amount of skin around their eyes and mouth.

  “One day you may have the pleasure of meeting these people in person,” said Ava as she waved hello to them. “But for now, they are here to watch you in action. We will start with me.”

  Ava’s hands and hair flared up, the fire user rising into the air, rings of fire circling around her hands.

  “Are you going to attack me?” Roman asked, his hands lifting to the ready.

  Ava fired off a ball of blue flames that landed at Roman’s feet. He jumped back, bringing up a barrier to stop the fire from advancing toward him.

  Assuming this meant “yes,” he launched into action, again going for his tried-and-true method of using water to protect himself from Ava’s flames.

  He already knew where the pipes were, and it only took him a second to jog over there, still blocking some of Ava’s fireballs. Roman cast his hand in the direction of the wall, the surface splitting open and a pipe bursting, water spraying everywhere and immediately forming a layer of armor over his body.

  With water sluicing all around him, Roman started to prepare a water attack, but he thought of a different tactic as he watched Ava zipping around in the air.

  Rather than try to put her out, he decided to bring her down.

  The ceiling drooped as if it were forming a giant teardrop. Then the end of the tear split, and the concrete, metal, and wood merged together and latched on to Ava’s fiery arms, moving down until it had her legs. The fire user struggled to break free, and the augmented material Roman had created turned bright red as she tried to burn her way out.

  “Impressive,” one of the masked men said, bringing his hands together in front of his body.

  “You can let me go now,” Ava called down to Roman, who immediately let up, even though he knew Ava may attack him in the meantime.

  But Roman was lucky, and Ava did no such thing, the fire user simply lowering to the ground, a satisfied smile on her face.

  “Next up, some fighting.” A portal opened as soon as the words left Ava’s mouth, and clones spilled out, one of them the original William Bottorf.

  The water quickly moved away from his body as Roman brought his fists into a defensive position. The gymnasium floor twisted into tendrils, moving up his body and forming armor that he reinforced with steel he’d taken from the structure, the back end of the gymnasium creaking as Roman removed essential parts.

  The steel formed jagged pieces along his arms and spikes along his knuckles.

  By the time William’s clones reached him, Roman was a fucking tank.

  He launched into the bastards as if he were at another one of the fight clubs he’d frequented when he was younger, before he met Celia.

  He didn’t hold back as he punched through some of the clones, their bodies going limp, his armor lifting off his back to fend off the ones who tried to come at him from behind.

  Roman could feel his heartbeat in his throat now, and he knew he was using a lot of power, but he kept going, this time animating some of the clones’ weapons, the black batons now like cobras as they slithered up their owners’ arms to their shoulders, choking them out.

  The clones were fast, skilled, and Roman was just starting to feel overwhelmed by them when a baton came within inches of cracking him on the side of the head, the attack narrowly stopped by a piece of his shoulder armor that lifted up just in time, taking the brunt of the hit.

  “That’s good,” the man in the black mask said, and William’s clones immediately moved away from Roman.

  “What else do you want to see?” Roman asked, breathing heavily now.

  “Where are his assistants?” the masked man asked Ava.

  “You mean his dolls?”

  “Yes, we would like to see his dolls in action, if that is a possibility.”

  “I can send for transport,” Roman said.

  “Please do. Ava mentions that you were able to form nearly anything out of most materials, and that there hasn’t been much you can’t use,” the man said. “She explained that you are also able to animate the dead. But that’s not what we want to see right now. If we choose to accept you into the Centralian intelligence agency, you may be called on to fight at points, but you would mostly be called on to gather information. With that in mind, we would like to see how well you could do this. But please, call your dolls too. They could be part of this, for all we know.”

  “Fine, sure,” Roman said, firing off a mental message to Nadine, hoping she was still at the safe house.

  It took her a moment, but she eventually arranged transport for Celia and Coma as the four masked CIA members waited. After speaking with Ava for a moment, William Bottorf waved goodbye to Roman; then a portal opened up and William stepped in.

  As William was leaving, a flash at the back of the room indicated guests were on the way. A kaleidoscope of sharp objects spiraled and petered out as the body of the two dolls took shape.

  Celia and Coma fell to the ground immediately, Roman animating them just in time for them to stand, the unlicensed teleporter giving everyone a weird look but not saying a word as she vanished.

  “Find out who she is,” the masked CIA man told the people who had joined him, “and make sure she doesn’t remember any of this.”

  “Will do,” said one of the masked females.

  “How are you?” Celia said, ignoring everyone as she came toward Roman, seconds away from throwing her arms around him.

  “I’m great,” he told her. Roman let her know with a gesture not to get to intimate in this environment. Coma stepped up beside her, wearing a black dress, a mask with pointed ends, and knee-high leggings.

  “This is Coma, and Celia,” Roman said, introducing the two of them.

  “Good,” said the main Centralian Intelligence Agency representative. Roman didn’t know what his rank was, but he was apparently a leader of some sorts. “We will see what they can do in a moment, but first we want to see how well you are able to gather intelligence.” The masked man waved his hand at the wall, a door taking shape. “Please, step outside.”

  Roman moved to the exit point, Celia and Coma following him. Ava eventually joined them, and the wall reformed once they were outside.

  “What am I supposed to be doing exactly?” Roman asked, feeling just a little bit cold as a breeze whipped up, the four of them now standing in a small garden outside of the gym. Roman had never seen the space before, mostly because the gym only had windows at the top of the wall, almost like a garden apartment.


  “They want you to spy on what they are doing on the other side of this wall. You are to do so without making your presence known,” Ava explained. “Sounds easy enough, right?”

  Roman considered this for a moment, remembering how he had merged his body with the floor, giving him the chance to kill Hazrat. He could theoretically spy by merging his body with the outer wall, but if they were looking directly at the wall, they might see him.

  With this tactic out of the question, Roman would have to devise another way to complete the task.

  An idea came to him, but he knew he’d need to ground himself to make it happen. Sitting with his knees beneath him, Roman looked up at the outside of the roof, then closed his eyes. He had imbued other objects with life before, but he had never tried something quite like this.

  Opening his eyes again, Roman started to form a bulge at the corner of the roof.

  He could see the corner bubble a little as the half sphere he’d made pressed deeper into the roof. Roman was careful not to give it too much power, moving it as slowly as possible to a natural stopping point.

  He visualized transferring his consciousness to the object but was unable to do so, at least not for a very long time.

  There was a moment where he felt like he was in the room, and he could see them speaking below, but he was unable to sustain the level of concentration it took to make that happen.

  Roman patted the ground and Celia sat, leaning against him, her life leaving her body, Roman’s arm around her shoulder as she transferred more mental power to the bulge he had created in the rooftop.

  “Just tell me when they are done,” Roman told Ava, his teacher fascinated with how he had decided to go about accomplishing this task.

  It took another few minutes, but eventually Ava told him they were ready to see what he had learned.

  Roman focused again on the rooftop, the bulge reappearing, moving over the side and down the outer wall until it stopped directly in front of them, a face forming across its surface.