Page 14 of Everdoll

He stood next to his bed and touched something. The wall moved, creating an opening. My mouth fell open. My brain couldn’t keep up with what to be surprised about anymore; Shock after shock, the last half hour had hollowed me out. I felt numb.

When he walked toward the passageway, I finally flinched. He didn’t call out to me or carry me on his back like before. He seemed to know I would follow, as if he were used to it. I swallowed one last time and stepped through the hidden entrance.

There was no turning back now.

As I walked deeper into the tunnel, shelves took shape in the dim light along the walls. They were perched close to the ceiling, but I could still discern what lay inside. They were familiar objects, nothing terrifying or secretive, just my personal belongings…

Wait, what?

The books I had left behind four years ago, small duck figurines, a few pieces of jewelry, brooches… The historic Loxton estate had been razed by fire a few months after we broke up, so I had assumed my belongings had perished in the flames. Seeing them preserved behind glass like museum artifacts sent a chill down my spine.

What is this place? What’s happening, Remi? What the hell did you do?

After taking a few more steps, the strength drained from my legs. Leaning against the wall to keep from falling, I questioned the validity of the scene before me.

A massive screen stretched from floor to ceiling, dominating the spacious hall, the only source of light illuminating the room. On the screen was a familiar place.

My house.

I remembered this camera angle; Raymond had installed it when I was sixteen, after asking if it was okay. At the time, I didn’t know his true identity and saw no ill intent in his request. And eventually, even forgot about it. Now, I glanced at the bottom right corner of the screen, and saw other frames—other cameras.

He’d been watching every corner of my house. Every room. Every moment. The idea that Raymond had been secretly monitoring me all these years was…

Thrilling.

I hesitantly made my way toward the dark corner of the room, which resembled a cellar. Behind the iron bars, I saw dozens of coffins stacked on top of each other, and on the floor lay five copies of the same woman’s body, with severed arms and red curly hair.

They were all me.

My hand flew to my mouth, trapping the cry in my throat. I tried to turn away, but no matter where I looked, I only encountered a piece of myself. Paintings, sculptures… My face was everywhere. I were in a sanctuary built in my name.

A dollhouse dedicated to Mina Olind.

On the floor, dozens of motionless figures lay. Each one bore my own face, yet they felt entirely alien. With their waxen, porcelain-smooth skin and wide, unblinking eyes, they didn’t look like living creatures at all; only discarded dolls lined up on a forgotten toy maker’s shelf. Then my gaze shifted to the ceiling, where a small monitor flickering. It displayed a single message in monolithic letters:

Kill Mina Olind.

“Oh, Mina’s here!”

Another wave of shock spread through my veins as the figure appeared beside me. It was me again. She stood there in her gray skirt and pink blouse, and when she reached out, her fingers disappeared into thin air. A hologram. As the hologram cheerfully danced around us, Raymond fetched a bottle of liquor from the refrigerator, then sat down on the old chair in front of the large screen. He looked entirely relaxed. Maybe a bit tired, too.

I kept staring at him. The more I studied him, the more the thoughts in my head fell into place.

Maybe I should’ve called the police, or at least let Prisne know. I should’ve been terrified by all this, but I only felt stupidly glad.

Finally I can see you, the real you.

My heart, which had been pounding with fear for minutes, calmed down. A relief rose inside me. Raymond Loxton, once my flawless lover, was now wallowing in filth. Pure filth. He was not perfect. That divine reflection, that godlike image of him, had finally shattered. He was just a human being like me, with desires and selfishness.

He was disgusting, too.

I realized at that moment, this was the root of the suffocating feeling. Over the years I had spent with him, I’d shown him all my faces, all my masks. But Raymond had always been a closed box, always flawless. He wasn’t. Seeing all this repulsiveness gave me a completely different kind of pleasure.

The pleasure of being equal.

Despite the abnormal happiness that filled me, I managed to scream, faking my fear.

“What are these, Raymond? What are you doing? You… Are you insane?”