House of Dolls 2

by Harmon Cooper

  And even though he could have left at that moment, forcing Dante to wonder what the hell had happened, Roman had to see this to the very end. Regardless of what happened next.

  The floor beneath him trembled as it formed a small base, which moved up to the hole he’d just created in the ceiling as he widened it some.

  Roman began his ascent.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Pink or Orange

  Kevin jumped back as the floor to his right gave way, kicking up debris and dust as a large pillar brought Turquoise back to the advisor floor.

  The pillar, the top of which was wrapped around the woman, began to unravel as Turquoise fell out, cracked her head on the corner of a desk, and hit the ground with a loud and sudden umph.

  “Turquoise!” Kevin shouted, his hands reaching out for her. Scarlett appeared next to him and grabbed his shoulder, and then the two vanished.

  They reappeared in the dingy apartment Kevin and the girls had been staying in. Kevin all but losing it as he pointed his finger and screamed, “Why!? Why did you take me back here!? Fuck! Fuck!”

  “It was the plan,” Scarlett said, her throat quivering.

  “Not my plan!”

  “Turquoise said if anything happened to get you first. Relax, dammit. I have to go back for them now!”

  Kevin’s beating heart nearly burst from his chest as she disappeared, leaving him alone in the apartment. He placed his thumb on his ring, realizing if he’d just been faster, he could have stopped Scarlett from taking him away from the action.

  His next thoughts fell to Turquoise.

  What the hell could have formed a pillar out of building materials and slammed her through the floors, creating a sinkhole in the process? He paced for a moment, his mind launching into his knowledge of exemplars and Centralia’s poor power classification.

  Kevin knew that the way Centralia classified exemplars, with its five types and seven classes, did little to truly describe an exemplar’s power.

  It was a simplified option, something created for general classification, and while Kevin would have personally classified whatever had hit Turquoise as a Type I or II, he knew there were more nuances. It could be something stranger than he could ever anticipate.

  Something from the Western Province, maybe. Something that defied Centralia’s classification system—this was the only thing he could come up with at the time.

  Kevin was finding it hard to breathe. As his mind fired off thoughts, stupid thoughts, about classifications, his lungs barely able to function, his heart felt like it was seconds away from exploding. His limbs started to feel numb, the act of standing becoming harder and harder to manage.

  Where…

  Are…

  They…

  And with that last word, Scarlett flashed into the room, Turquoise flung over her shoulder and Obsidian next to her, the teleporter’s chest heaving up and down as she took in large gulps of air.

  Kevin’s knees started to buckle as he saw Turquoise in her battered and bruised state. Even as Scarlett laid her down on the chaise, Kevin was already calculating his next move, barely able to get the next words out.

  “We need a healer…” he muttered.

  And there were only a couple of people Kevin knew who were aware of the healing situation in Centralia. One was his brother, and the other was Paris, the spy actively working to thwart the Centralian government. Ian Turlock knew as well, but Kevin didn’t want to deal with that sick fucker.

  “We need a healer,” he said again, his words becoming clearer as he took in Turquoise’s form. Obsidian moved to his side, her tail lightly flitting against his arm.

  “Did you see who did this?” he asked.

  “He was masked,” Obsidian said, her face filled with worry.

  “What kind of mask?”

  “A stiff one made of concrete,” Scarlett the teleporter said. “He had white hair, though, if that helps any. Orange eyes.”

  “No, they were pink,” Obsidian said.

  Scarlett nodded, still breathing hard. “Somewhere in that color range. Pink or orange.”

  “We’ll find him,” Kevin growled, “and kill him for doing this. For now, we need a healer.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Defying All Odds

  Roman pulled some of the concrete to his face as he moved up through the floors. It was grainy, but it would give him some disguise, and while he didn’t like the feeling of the stuff against his skin, his power somehow made it work in a way that wasn’t too rigid.

  He knew what he was doing could cost him dearly, but the fact that the cat woman had attacked him meant there may be other assailants in the building, and as much as Roman hated the place, he didn’t want to see any of his coworkers die.

  Crumbs of building falling all around him, Roman arrived at the floor where he’d deposited the cat girl.

  Are you serious? he thought as it dawned on him that this was his floor, his cubicle just fifteen or twenty feet away.

  Roman had acted with such haste that he hadn’t paid attention to where he was depositing the woman, and he regretted this instantly as he saw his officemates huddled in the center of the room, the office cubicle walls decimated, Coco lying face down and another cat girl, this one with black hair, about to come his way.

  The black-haired cat girl launched into the air.

  Roman used a piece of the ceiling to swipe her aside, slamming her into the far wall. She was back on her feet in moments, advancing toward Roman on all fours.

  Suddenly, a teleporter flashed in front of the black-haired cat girl, the other cat girl already thrown over the teleporter’s shoulder, and the three of them vanished, leaving Roman standing on a small platform he’d created wearing a mask made of concrete.

  Rather than look at his coworkers, knowing they’d recognize him, Roman turned to the windows on the left.

  His feet moved at the pace of his thoughts as he ran toward the window.

  Roman only had one shot at this, something he was well aware of as he covered his face with his arm and threw himself into the glass, flinging his body out.

  Free falling.

  His arms now extended, the wind whipped all around him. Roman’s mask dropped away, the glass peeling from the side of the building in pursuit of his falling body.

  He tried to form a sort of slide, but his form instantly smashed through it, causing his body to tumble.

  Realizing death was imminent if he didn’t do something soon, and not failing to notice his power dial flashing even though he was nearing the ground, Roman flicked his wrist toward the building’s glass, calling more to him.

  A giant, hand-like structure wrapped around him.

  He felt a tug as the glass pulled back, the feeling of his stomach moving forward nearly forcing him to let go of his control.

  But Roman wasn’t going to die this way.

  Focusing with all his might, he began to slow his descent as the glass fist that had wrapped around him took over, smoothing his ride to the ground, more peeling off the side of the building to add girth and strength to the object he’d formed.

  Defying all odds, Roman was safely deposited in front of the administration building.

  As soon as he stumbled away, his stomach still reeling, all the glass he’d pulled from the outer walls shattered, leaving a fine mist of sparkling shards in the air.

  Chapter Twenty-Five: A Message from Harper

  Hazrat watched as the hooded woman melted Roman’s door away. It was just the three of them and…

  Her.

  Hazrat shuddered for what had to be the fifteenth time since he’d seen the hooded woman animate Roman’s wife’s body.

  While Hazrat missed his own wife dearly, he was glad she was still dead and not the living corpse that now stood to his right, with just about the evilest look in her now-blackened eyes that he’d ever seen.

  She wore a spare set of robes that hung loosely from her body, her skin pale, strands of red hair hanging in her face.

 
“Celia” was what the hooded woman had called Roman’s wife, and Celia hadn’t said anything aside from an initial gasp when she’d reawoken.

  Unsettling.

  The hooded woman, who had finally told Hazrat to call her Margo, was powerful beyond his wildest dreams. With his background, and some of the crowd he’d run with in the Southern Alliance, Hazrat was familiar with powerful exemplars.

  But he’d never encountered anything like Margo.

  Thus far, he’d witnessed her take over any structure or material with ease, a god-like power if he’d ever seen one, and through reanimating the red man and Celia, she also appeared to hold sway over their thoughts and behaviors.

  Unsettling to say the least.

  Which was why Hazrat, a proud Southern man from a powerful family, had so easily fallen in line behind her, persuaded and intoxicated by her power, afraid of what she could do if he protested, and fueled by revenge. One thing was certain in his mind: Roman had killed Hazrat’s wife, and he’d pretty much ruined his life by having Hazrat jailed.

  For now, Hazrat would focus on this fact. He could figure out how to rid himself of Margo later, after this objective was accomplished.

  But she can’t manage shadows, Hazrat reminded himself as they entered Roman’s apartment. And while she could theoretically stop his heart by piercing it with his ribs, he may be able to knife her with a shadow before her power could take hold, both of them killing each other.

  That was an option, after all, but Hazrat hoped not to let it get to that.

  He preferred to stay alive—not in Centralia, but back in his home country, where he could eventually remarry and start a family, never forgetting Nova, his slain wife.

  Hazrat glanced at the corners of Roman’s apartment.

  It felt reassuring to know there were weapons at his disposal, and as he looked to the shadows, he could feel them expanding, breathing even, ready to come to his aid if need be.

  “He’s clearly not here,” Margo finally said, her back to Hazrat.

  One of the drawers in the kitchen sprang open. Two forks leapt out, flipped in the air and landed on the ground. They hopped along the floor as they swept through the place, using their pronged ends when necessary to look in and under objects.

  Hazrat watched as Margo orchestrated this.

  As usual, he couldn’t quite make out her face, but he got the sense she was grinning as it all took place. Movement behind him caused Hazrat to turn and find Ian standing guard in the doorway, his black eyes reminding Hazrat just how dead he was.

  Does she remember? Hazrat thought as he looked left to see Celia pacing near the window, her hand lightly touching the windowsill.

  The dead woman wore an expressionless mask, her cheeks twitching ever so slightly as she made her way across the room. One of the forks cut through the room and back to the kitchen, where it stabbed into a box of chocolates Hazrat hadn’t noticed before.

  “Ah,” Margo said as she approached the chocolates. “We have a gift.”

  The note pinned to the box lifted off its top surface, then curled into a cylinder and rolled to Margo’s feet. The hooded woman bent forward to retrieve the message, nodding as she read it.

  “A message from a woman named Harper,” she finally said.

  Chapter Twenty-Six: New Actors

  You could lose your power over this.

  Roman paced back and forth in front of his three dolls, all of whom sat on the bench. He knew exemplars would be at the immigration office with minutes, but he was far enough away from it now that he could see how things shook out before teleporting away.

  His first order of business had been to message Ava. Now he had to convince her to intervene.

  Only one person saw me, he thought back to her, a man named Dante who works in HR. I used the building materials to make a mask after that.

  Are you sure it was only one person? came her response. Because if that is the case, I may have someone I can send there right now, but I’ll need to know within the next minute or so. This person has high enough clearance that they’ll be able to speak to Dante before he is properly interviewed by authorities. If you’re sure it was only one person, I’ll arrange teleportation now.

  Roman nodded. Of his three dolls, only Celia seemed concerned. Coma looked alert as ever, and Casper had crawled into Celia’s lap to take a nap, her blond hair covering her face and the cat-ear headband she wore.

  I’m sure, Roman thought back to her.

  Then it is done. This Dante fellow will be visited by a teleporter and the more powerful telekinetic I know within the next minute. This is the one favor I’m able to grant you, Roman, and it reflects poorly on your progress if you’re already showcasing your ability.

  I was attacked, and they were attacking my coworkers. I think one was dead, at least one. Roman thought back to her. Someone was trying to take my entire department hostage, or so it seemed. Add this to the fact that my wife’s fucking corpse has been stolen, and you’ll see why I acted.

  Which is why I’m not going to report this incident. Also, you didn’t tell me about your wife.

  You didn’t ask.

  Ava’s thought came a moment later. Why would I ask about your wife’s dead body?

  Good point.

  And I’m sorry to hear her corpse was taken. I can poke around a little as well; there are telepaths with psychometric abilities, but I don’t know any.

  And the one you’re sending to deal with Dante?

  That’s not his strong suit. He specializes, oddly enough, in memory manipulation.

  Thank you, Ava.

  I will be in touch with you. Be safe on your journey, and we will train even harder when you get back. I want you to think more about joining a rapid response team once your exemplar status is approved. I know you have other wishes, but I think this best suits your abilities. This is still a way off, however, and I’m sorry I can’t approve it sooner.

  Why can’t you?

  A duck lifted out of the pond; it flapped its wings as it resettled somewhere closer to the center.

  As you know, your power is different than the other powers I’ve seen through the Hero Lottery. Of all the students I’ve had, you have the most potential, and I believe it is best for us to see just how powerful we can make you and at the same time, truly understand the limitations of your ability. It’s nothing against you.

  Are you sure you don’t just like training me and having dinner after? Because we can still do that if you approve me…

  It was worth a shot, so Roman went ahead and sent his last statement. Her reply appeared almost instantly.

  Nice try. Keep your head down, and remember, I won’t be able to pull these kinds of strings again. Are you still in the area?

  Yes.

  Get out now.

  The forms of Roman and his three dolls took shape in the back of a small shop near the train station on 50th Street. Nadine stood there along with Lisa Painstake, the young woman’s body less blinding than it had been the last time Roman had seen her.

  “Get in,” Nadine told Coma as she nodded to a wooden crate. “And you’re late,” she said to Roman.

  “Sorry, I was attacked.”

  Nadine’s eyes went wide.

  “I’ll explain later. Everything is fine now.”

  Roman helped Coma into the first coffin. Once she was in, he placed his hand on her masked face and stared deeply into her red eyes for a moment.

  “It won’t be for very long,” he promised his combat doll. “And if I need you for any reason, I’ll activate your powers. The coffins won’t be locked. You’ll be able to get out.”

  “That’s fine, Roman,” she said as the life left her body.

  Roman moved to Celia, who wore her exemplar outfit that at times seemed impractical. He gently helped her into the coffin, and she went for his hand as soon as she was settled.

  “I’ll be fine,” she told him, a softness and light warmth to her hand that made Roman feel at ease.
/>   “I know. This is only temporary.”

  “You don’t have a toy-sized coffin, do you?” Casper asked from her usual place in Roman’s front jacket pocket.

  “You’re staying with me,” he told her as he took the life from Celia. Even though he’d seen it happen multiple times, it was still uncanny to see something go from living to completely dead and motionless in a matter of seconds.

  “Good, because I’m kind of claustrophobic. Even this pocket gives me the creeps.”

  Lisa turned to Nadine. “The dolls really are odd,” she said under her breath.

  Nadine simply nodded as she shut Coma’s coffin. Then she moved to Celia’s coffin and did the same, leaving them unlocked as Roman had instructed.

  Casper turned to Lisa. “At least I’m not a glaring bright light.”

  “Casper,” Roman started to say.

  “You aren’t even real,” Lisa reminded her.

  “And you won’t be real unless this Nadine lady figures out what to do with your pretty-much-dead body.”

  Lisa’s form bristled.

  “Let’s play nice,” Nadine reminded everyone as she moved to the entrance of the store. “Otherwise, Roman knows what to do.”

  Rather than respond, Casper let out an exasperated sigh, which she followed with a yawn. “I’m getting tired anyway,” she started to say.

  Why is she always so sleepy? Roman wondered as Nadine instructed the store owner and his assistant to load the three coffins on the train headed East. The men readily obeyed, ignoring the bright beacon of a woman standing near Nadine.

  Roman placed a hand in his pocket and lifted Casper as gently as he could. She was already fast asleep, snoring lightly.

  He knew she carried some of his overtly sexual tendencies, which made him a bit worried as to how she’d be once she was full-sized, but the slight snark and general sleepiness was something Roman really couldn’t place.