He kidnapped me. I called him Dollmaker, because he made me his Doll. At first, he put a wig on me until my hair grew. I had to be the most beautiful man. I had to have pale skin and black, long hair. I had to have neat, painted nails. I had to wear dresses and patent leather shoes. I had to be a Doll.

In fact, days were nice, even if I couldn't go outside and I had to wear these lace clothes. Then night came and suddenly the Dollmaker remembered that I was a living human. And living people feel pain. He liked the pain. Both his and mine.

He always cleaned me after everything. With steady, gentle moves, he cleaned my pale skin with water. In fact, I liked these baths. It was a sign that the day started. They erased night's pain. They showed that the Dollmaker was, in some way, protective, even though he had done with me in bed whatever he wanted only an hour ago.

It doesn't mean that I didn't desire a freedom. I wanted to go outside, but every door and window were closed by a code which Dollmaker changed everyday. I've never been able to enter the correct one. 

Yes, finally someone noticed that I exist and I'm not happy to be in the Dollmaker's house. I was sent to a hospital for a long time and then, I could go home. And then someone, who was some kind of fan of me, took care of me. I was the most important person for him.

I watched the blood trickle down my still pale wrist. Then he ran up to me and grabbed my wrist.

"What are you doing?" he growled, looking at my blood paiting my skin with some fascination.

Something woke up in him then. Something bad. Something that made him chain me by the leg to a bed in the basement and made him become the Wolf and me his Prey.

He loved my blood. He loved my tears. He loved my pleas for death. He loved it, adored it and couldn't do anything without it.

And I was saved again. This time it was my Friend who realized that something is not good. He burst into that basement, breaching the door, cut the chain and carried me in his arms, which was not easy, because I was barely alive and slipping through his hands.

Now I'm calm. Dollmaker and Wolf are in a prison. My Friend has just made me a coffee and bought chocolate cookies. Since three years any scar didn't appear on my body. I just somethimes cry in the middle of the night, because of scars on my mind. But only sometimes.

"You won't eat cookies?" I ask. My Friend is surprised by that.

"You said the whole sentence" he says excitedly, then hugs me. "You managed to say the whole sentence."

I think that it's a praise. I like when he praises me. I know then that he's proud of me. I know that he's happy because of that. And when he's happy, I'm happy too. He's my Friend, who's touch doesn't hurt me, after all.

The end