Chương 123: Playing With Dolls
The Doll whimpered in pain as the man penetrated her from behind, no affection was present in their act, only malicious lust as the Doll's head was slammed into the wall with an uncomfortable thud. If she wasn't made from enchanted wood, her pale skin would have already cracked from the impact.
Revelling in the poor doll's torment, the Dollmaker continued the rough play he was doing. Ingraining that he may have valued her highly, but she was merely a toy for her amusement.
Constructs or magical automatas can only emulate humans by looks alone. It takes a soul to to feel emotions, it takes a soul to portray the agony in the face of the doll as Izma swung his hips.
With release rising from his nether region, the man's hand wrapped around the Doll's throat. The Doll had no need for air, but the Man's grip was still unbearable for her slender neck. Through enchantment, the doll could feel constriction with -if not, greater sensitivity than that of a human.
If the man applied more pleasure, the doll knew it would be enough to break its neck.
Knew? Yes, the doll can think. Although its rationality is as limited as her tantamount soul, it still knows cruelty of the situation she is in. Her pain feeding the Dollmaker's sadistic heart.
Inside his underground workshop surrounded by numerous dolls, none was as favored as the one he was abusing right now. After all, she was a sliver of his soul.
Raven black hair, spotless pale skin, brown eyes and light red lips. She was pinnacle of his art, the beauty that he aspired, they beauty he cannot be.
With one final thrust, the man groaned, unloading inside the the Doll's artificial cunt, an exact replica of the real one to make sure he can enact to it all of his perverted desires.
The Dollmaker watched as his creation quivered, falling to her knees from, there was no doubt in his mind that if she was capable of tears, she would shed tears for the brutality she had gone through.
The twins were right, this method beats killing her victims. How thankful he is for handing this sorcery to him, and the only payment was that he make dolls plenty enough to form an army.
As Izma started to put on his clothes, he commanded, "When I get upstairs, make sure dinner is ready is ready."
The Doll got up, timid and unable to harbor hatred. It wasn't that it can't, it was incomplete, Izma just gave it enough portion of his soul for it to feel dread which was plenty enough for him.
The Doll stood, clothing herself and then leaving to follow the orders laid upon her.
Witnessing the brutish scene, the human woman bound and gagged on the chair desperately tried to get free from the chains binding her.
"You're awake, good. I always want my victim to be when I start killing them." Izma nonchalantly remarked, grabbing a ceremonial dagger, he waltz towards his latest victim.
Unlike the doll's terror from before, this one was more raw, the threat of her life being snuffed allowed her to ignore the peeling of her skin as she tried her best to get out of the chairs.
Izma walked from behind the woman, his dark and curvy dagger traced the woman's cheek, "To tell you the truth, there's no need to fear what I'm going to do to you, really. I will simply have you reborn as a magnificent doll made by yours truly, and you can keep on living as perfection forever. Sure your memory will get wiped, but who cares really when you get to live on as my creation. If that isn't a win-win, then I don't know what is."
The woman's eyes widened in horror upon his statement. This man is insane! The nefarious plan that the redheaded man had in store for the woman made her struggle for dear life even more.
Izma then prepared chair next to the struggling woman, and on it he propped a lifesize doll that's the same height as the woman. Its hair blonde in contrast to the horrified woman's auburn one. Its pale skin mimicked her, its face carved to perfectly emulate her own. From afar, it was enough to mistake it for a real human but upon closer inspection, its sheen glow and its ball joints belied what it truly was.
"Don't get me wrong, Sophia, your hair suits you just fine, but trust me, you'll be prettier as a blonde."
The man's dagger pointed directly at the cavity between Sophia's chest, straight to her heart. The woman's tears became a waterfall as she could not plead no matter how much she wanted due to the cloth gagging her mouth.
"Stop struggling now, just one thrust and you'll be reborn anew. Abandon your flesh and reach eternal beauty, my love."
With one push, the dagger pierced ended the woman's wails, and in mere seconds, her life.
Modifying the spell in which a Lich would create a phylactery, the dagger would rip the soul from the body and temporarily absorb it. The sorcery imbued in the weapon would then allow for a seamless transfer into another vessel.
All movement ceased from Sophia, her head lifelessly hung. The dagger embedded in her chest emitted a blue glow, signalling the process that it was now done absorbing her soul.
One swift pull and the dagger was out. Izma tilted his head, observing Sophia's unmoving body, like this she is akin to a doll but prone to aging and rot. Time will inevitably render her ugly.
Pointing her hand beneath the chair, a red magic circle appeared underneath. An incineration spell burst forth and flames soon swallowed the body, turning her into ash and disposing of Sophia's corpse.
A mid level spell was easy for one who was once touted as a promising mage. A promise that Izma abandoned to hone his construct making skills. Now, his spellcasting could only be considered mediocre. His repertoire was only this flame spell for disposing of bodies, a basic fireball, magic missile and handful of other unimpressive ones.
Of course, this was met with a backlash from his peers and even his own family, saying that with his talent he should become an arsenal mage for the army where gold was in abundance. But here was where his true passion laid. It just so happened that imbuing people's souls into constructs made for the best Dolls.
Their cognition far superior than your standard golem and their loyalty was unwavering.
With a single stab, Izma's dagger went through the chest of her the blonde doll. The daggers blue glow soon disappated, making the doll open its eyes.
It has no memory other than it should be obedient to the man before him. The Doll's eyes gazed straight at its master, remaining unmoving even as he caressed her hair.
"So beautiful, it wounds my heart thinking that I have to one day hand you over to the twins."
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