Chapter 4: Paper that never burns, doll that never learn

"Get up bitch." Snarled the boy. He kicked the Evo in the ribs, not even bothering to stop when he heard several cracks. His blonde haired friend spitted on her black listless hair. She held back tears and looked up. Her pale skin was cover in large discoloration and her she was pretty sure three out of four arms were broken.

"Tell me bitch. Tell me why my mother died in the explosion while you live. What the fuck is great about you?" Breach held back a laugh. Living. That was funny. She didn't think being beaten in an alley four hours past midnight was any way to live.

"Answer him bitch.:" The blonde demanded. He pulled out a rusty knife and held it to her throat.

"Why don't we cut the bitch Ted? Who would care?" Ted smiled cruelly his brown choppy hair whipped at the night wind. Killing her wouldn't bring his mother back. Nothing would but he was to drunk to know this and to lost to care.

B didn't blame them. She was a useless ugly beast. Why not finish her off? Her monstrous limbs hung from her frail shoulders. Both were broken. With those enlarged fist she could have easily batted the two away from her but she didn't want to.

She was the paper doll. They created a thing to beat. They tape together freaky parts and sewn in their own insecurities and began shredding their production. B was nothing but litter in the wind. Her life was as delicate as the thin white sheets that made her.

Ted grinned manically. Kill the freak it said to her.

"Yea! We might even get a metal for taking care of her." Ted growled and nodded at his pal. He was about to slice through her thin skin to her throat when vines came and entangled the knife.

"Agggrrrh!" Scream Ted's friend as his skull crack from pressure of the vines that consumed his body. Ted was mute because the the plant life and crumbled his neck like a soda can, enabling him to scream. As their faces frozen in terror sharp spikes ripped deep holes through their bodies. Bloody organs and white bone pieces litters the ground, smearing with the small droplets of B's blood.

The bloody thorns and vines fell onto the ground with the limp corpses and a man came to stand over Breach.

"Hello my dear." His voice was smooth and clean suggesting that he had nothing to do with the gruesome violent deaths that happened mere moments ago. B was filled with darkness as she took in the man's features.

Strong jaw. Black midnight hair with strikes of gray showing signs of aging and maturity. Knowing eyes with a slightly crooked nose that added to his wisdom. Red piecing eyes. And a hearty smile that was wrapped in care. Then darkness.

Fire. The sick smell of flesh. B stood untouched by hot flame. Her house fell apart in ashes. Smoke cover everything.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Breach looked over her shoulder. Mother's burning carcases laid on the floor. Her flesh was a covered in puss yellow goo and burnt blood. Her hair was stringy and matted. Mother's left eye hung from a pink stem while the other one was burned white. Her body sat up and her blind eye locked with hers.

"Breanna..." She murmured. In a blink of an eye B's throat was in the grasp of mother dearest. Blood slide out from under her sharp claws. Snap. Snap. Snap.

"Hear that Breanna?" she breathed into her ear. Despite the rotten pink flesh the peeled out of her body and splashed on charred ground and the putrid smell of stale blood mixed with burning bones, her breathe was cool and spicy. "Hear me dieing?" snap.

B was too stricken with fear to respond. Her eyes traced the sagging eye and the floppy skin that melted into her neck. She tried to raise one of her over size hands to usher the woman off of her neck.

"Going to kill me again? Or maybe runaway. Like you always do," Her mother flung her into a pile of destroyed furniture. B could her her ankle snap in pressure as she fell to the ground. She screamed in pain. "Coward." Her mother spatted.

Mother stood over her wounded child. Her body once again consumed in flames. "Mother knows best." She smiled with her crusted and bloody lips, her thin skin stretched with the curl.

Everything around B faded into the fires.


B screamed as she pushed herself up with her large arms. She was in a unknown room. All her wounds were patched and her broken bones were healing in a caste. She could feel the nanites inside her work to fix the problems.

The room was barely finished, just a sleeping bed, a nightstand, and cur-tings. Her bed was next to the window. The crescent moon looked back at her as it nearly faded into the horizon and the sun was threatening to peak over. The sky was mixed with warm reds,oranges,and pinks that fought off the deep dark blues,blacks, and purples that still lingered.

"Your awake." The man from before had some how slipped into her room unnoticed. B made a note of that for later.

"Where am I?" B asked. She wasn't one for formalities. You never were on to listen. Her mother scolded from the back of her head. She pushed it aside and wished the woman would stay in her dreams.

"The blunt one aren't we? Well I would prefer it like that. This is Abysus. I'm Van Kleiss, the master of this domain." In the lighting B was able to stud the man more clearly. His left arm was a bulky golden metal glove that ran into a red cloak. The cloak was over a black shirt and golden scarf. Breach focused on the glove. It seemed so pretty and shiny. She adored how the light caught the piece perfectly.

"What do you want?" B didn't take her eyes off the glove she decided to name Gauntlet of Destruction or G.o.D. She giggled to herself at the small pun.

"I have a deal for you."

From that day on B became Breach meaning broken or ruined. Stills he was cronstructed and changed for different people.

With Van Kleiss she glued and stick pieces together to contrasted a perfect silent killer. Her portal shurikens and her heavy fist made it easy for her to deliver Evos to him to feed on. As long as the she didn't pick at the tape, their deal would not fall apart.

With the rest of the pack they built the perfect teammate. Obedient, skilled, and could provide an easy escape route. The glued the pieces messily together, not taking care to how the end result looked like.

In her dreams Breach was the perfect torture victim. Her mother sewn her with laces of hate and blood. Mother to extra care in making sure no matter how hard she battered her the flimsy paper and string that held her together would last till dawn. Mother made sure the paper never burned.

Despite what people think paper, could not last. You could not tape over or glue away any problems you find. Paper could not last. It took only one cut, one slice to take this paper doll away. Away from being saved. Away from being prefect. Away from life.

Hey ppl! I think this one's okay. If you don't quiet understand what an actual paper doll is go to Wikipedia and type in 'paper dolls' and you can understand the ending better. Yea I know I said it was Van Kleiss who was going to be the doll but does he really seem like the usable type? Nope. So for the next chapter I need a a doll of Dr. Holiday any thoughts?