Authors: Robert J. Crane
2.
I didn’t scream, but only because I was still in the grip of the paralysis of sleep. I came to in the box, the smell of it heavy in the air, hard metal against my back and pinching at my toes in front of me. I jerked my head up from where it had been slumped forward, my neck lolling as I came back to wakefulness. The smell was foul; I didn’t know how long I had been in the box, but it had been days, days in which I’d only left occasionally, when needed, to drink, to eat, but not to shower. My body smelled foul, every inch of it, and I didn’t care. I took a breath, and the air within hit my tongue, stagnant, almost stained with the stench. I braced myself against the wall and let the back of my head hit metal, a quiet thunk that I repeated twice more, trying to trade pain for clarity.
When my head cleared, everything—my memory of all that had happened that had brought me here—rushed back and I wished I my brain was still shrouded in fog. My dream had seemed so much better than the reality. My mouth was dry, and I smacked it open and shut twice.
Need to drink soon
, came the quiet, rasping voice in my head.
Little doll is slowly wasting away
.
“
Your concern is touching,” I rasped myself, more from a scratchy throat than anything. “In fact, why don’t you take your touching concern and go touch yourself with it? Over and over, preferably.”
No need to get so nasty with Wolfe
.
“
I thought nasty was how you liked it.” I could feel him, the first to stir, but the others were coming to life now, too. I didn’t care. They were bastards, all of them. Well, all but one of them. Bastards who talked and talked and talked at me all day long, from when I woke up to when I fell asleep, all but the one I wanted to talk to me. He had been nothing but silent.
Wolfe thinks you should
—
“
Don’t care.”
The darkness is insufferable
, came the thick, Norwegian accent of Bjorn.
“
You’re from Norway, aren’t you? Isn’t it dark like twenty hours a day there in the winter? Deal with it.” How did he speak in an accent in my head? Dipshit.
We should leave this place,
Bjorn said
, leave it behind, go find Janus
—
“
No.”
There came a third voice, more reasonable, if slightly pleading.
My sister, Klementina. She lives
—
“
Not if I get hold of her, that traitorous bitch.”
—
she still breathes
—
“
I could fix that.”
—
and now she remembers
—
“
She is not your sister.” I let the rage fuel me, thinking of the blond-haired demon who had sold the Directorate out to Omega, thought of how she hid behind Janus until he told her to come out, like a good little— “You said yourself there’s nothing of Klementina left in Kat.” I exhaled hard, forceful, angry. “Nothing left but an Omega shell now. A puppet.”
But we could
—
“
No.” I ran a hand down my cheek, felt the stiffness in the skin, as though it had salted over. “I don’t wanna leave.”
Wolfe warned you
—
“
So helpful. Seriously. Go touch yourself.”
—
warned you that Janus was different than the others that had come before
.
“
Yet not a word about Erich Winter. Go figure.”
There are things in motion
, Bjorn spoke inside me,
things happening the whole world over for our people, things that will redefine our race
—
I waved a hand at him as though he were a fly I could shoo away, and I tucked my head down and ran a finger through my frizzed, tangled hair. “And I told you I don’t care.” I paused. “Or at least I told one of you I don’t care. Just assume I’m speaking to all of you when I say something, because I want nothing to do with any of you friggin’ convicts that are imprisoned in my brain.” I took a breath through my nose and nearly gagged. When I got control of my breathing again, I took shallow breaths through my mouth. “If I had it my way, I’d empty you all out, and my own brain, too.” In a flash, I thought of a gun, of what it could do for me—
There was only a second’s silence before Wolfe spoke into the void. I could sense the terror of all three of them, scared shitless at the prospect of me killing myself—and them by default, for a second time.
Little doll, so natural to have these feelings after what you’ve been through
—
“
And you’d know how? Other than because you caused them in others over and over throughout your sick, pathetic life?” I looked up, as though I could see him standing over me while I spoke. “Watching other people have emotions, feelings, loving and caring doesn’t make you an expert by some sort of study or proxy, you psychopath.”
Not helpful, though, Little Doll
, Wolfe went on.
Wolfe watched, Wolfe saw, Little Doll is right
—
“
I have a name, you ass.”
—
Wolfe
inflicted more pain and death than Wolfe can speak of
, he said, and his voice was smooth and plying.
But Wolfe saw pain, and Wolfe knows pain, has lived in pain like the Little Doll is feeling
.
“
Bull,” I laughed. “Bulllllllshiiiiiiiiit.”
There was a flash in my head, of something that happened long ago, far away, on another continent, and it was followed by a seering sense of loss, of agony. I felt bile well up in the back of my mouth and I wanted to heave—again.
Wolfe is not a liar
.
“
Just a murderer, rapist and torturer,” I said, leaning my head back against the inside of the box. There were eyes in the darkness, their eyes, peering at me. “Forgive me for failing to make
that
subtle distinction.”
Wolfe has been through what the doll is going through
, and the pleading was gone, I could feel the heat of his emotions now, he was feeding me the vision—of a house, with a family, screaming in pain, the air thick with the smell of a stew, and then blood everywhere, and the agonizing pain of loss, of heartbreak. I nearly vomited as a flash gave me a vision of a snowfield outside, a lone figure lying in the middle of it with flakes coming down around him. I felt a burning in my chest at the memory.
Wolfe knows how to make it better
.
“
I
know how to make it better,” I said, resting my head on my palm. The weight of my skull was intense, and I wondered if my wrist could hold it up, it was so heavy. “I told you, I just take a pistol and—”
No no no no no
—A chorus of the voices lifted up, and I heard just a hint of one far away, the one I wanted to hear, as though he were on the distant edge of a crowd, shouting to me across it. I tried to look for him, but it was as though I levered myself up, and by the time I did so, he was gone, slipped out of sight.
Zack.
Wolfe knows how to ease the loss, to … salve the pain
.
“
Please, tell me this is a solution that involves cannibalism,” I said with a disgruntled laugh. “Because I could use some humor in my day.” I looked around soberly. “Actually, I am hungry. If you ruin that with a tale of human flesh being eaten, I will never forgive you.”
No no no, Little Doll, nothing so dirty
, I caught the hesitation in the way he said it and I knew he was putting on the show for me. Still, I listened because although I kind of didn’t want to, I kind of did.
Age-old remedies for these sorts of wrongs, you know, older than anything, the idea of what to do when someone makes you hurt, makes you suffer. Little Doll, you are stronger than you know
—
“
And yet you keep calling me a little doll,” I said with a sigh.
—
stronger than anyone knows. And the Little Doll knows what she could do, but maybe … is afraid to do it
. I could almost sense him looking around in my head, as though drawing on the support of those around him, his fellow prisoners.
But we … we three … we have all done it. Have all done things to those who wronged us, can be … guides for the Little Doll who isn’t a murderer … who doesn’t want to hurt anyone
—
“
Oh, I want to hurt someone.”
That’s good
.
“
It’s really not,” I said, almost choking on the words.
They hurt you. Hurt you worse than anything. Only one way to make that better, to cure yourself of the pain, Little Doll. And Wolfe can show you, oh yes, he can
—
“
Ugh.”
He is not wrong
, Gavrikov said.
“
Listen to the voice of reason. The guy who wanted to blow up the entire city of Minneapolis to spare everyone the pain of living.”
It is natural to want to hurt someone back, when you’ve been hurt. When my father turned on me and my sister, I
—
“
Thanks for the input.”
Blood answers blood
, Bjorn said within me.
There is only one response to what they have done to you
.
“
Says you.”
Little Doll
, the voice came again, cloying, preying.
Wouldn’t it feel good? They hurt you so … wouldn’t it just be right to make them pay, just a little?
I felt something within me stir.
Why wouldn’t that make sense? Wouldn’t it just be … fair? To make them pay for leaving him like … that
. I gasped and a vision of Zack, dead, staring up at me, flashed in front of my eyes, and my breathing picked up, quick breaths in and out, almost hyperventilating.
Soothing, Little Doll, long breaths, slow, in and out
. I took the advice of the words in my ear, and my breathing began to slow as I calmed.
Yes, that’s it. Like that. Think of them, and you get … riled. But think of what you could do to them to repay them, and slow down, savor it, breathe it in slowly
…
I didn’t want to listen, but I did. There was an agony inside, a clashing cymbal and drums playing in my ears, and I kept seeing that moment, their faces, the ones who had done this.
His face, weathered and old. I had trusted him.
“
I’m not a murderer.”
They are
, came Gavrikov’s voice again.
They did this to you. Against your will. Forced you to … the cruelest thing anyone could ever
—
They deserve it
, Bjorn said.
He pretended to be your friend, they all did, and then, in a moment, they turned on you, took advantage of you, used your own body to perpetrate a horror upon him and yourself
—
He will never be able to leave you now
, Wolfe said, and I felt a stir in the back of my head from Zack at that—a stir, and nothing more.
They’ve saddled you with the proof of their horrific betrayal for now and all time, so cruel a thing to do to such an innocent sweetness like the Little Doll … made her trust them, fed her and pretended to love her, and then
—
It was as though I could hear a snap in my head, of fingers or something else, and then the darkness around me turned red, tinged with crimson. I took long, slow breaths, but they weren’t relaxing, they were seething. I saw them all, one by one—
Parks. His long, gray hair and beard, my woolly mentor.
Clary. Stupid idiot. Rocks for brains and skin.
Eve. Colder than even Winter. Hated me. Always had, I think.
Bastian. Led them all. Let it happen. Talked Parks into doing it.
And Winter. I felt a flare of heat at the thought of him. He was ice and had been for as long as I had known him. I wanted to melt him, to draw some emotion out of him, to make him cast aside that glacial exterior, hear the flames lick at him, hear him scream the way Zack had—
There was a silence in my head. I knew they were there, still, in the back, waiting. “All right,” I said, breathing, seething. “All right, yes. I want them to hurt. I want them to suffer like I suffered.” I felt my teeth grind together. “But I can’t do this by myself. I can’t—” I flinched, in the darkness, in the box. “I don’t know how to—”
So easy
, came the rasp of Wolfe again.
So simple. The Wolfe can help, oh yes, he can. And the others, too
, he added hastily,
can help the Little Doll take her first steps into this new, brave, bad world, her first steps into the one that we have walked in since long before the Little Doll was even born … experienced guides, oh yes
. I could almost feel Bjorn and Gavrikov nodding with him, and as much as that should have chilled me, it didn’t. I felt a vague sense of relief, as though I were finally doing … something. Anything. Other than sitting here, wallowing in misery.