12:50pm

I um-... I have two ideas for this, one goes a pretty normal way, the other goes... o-o, w e i r d, I guess you'll know by the ending which way I chose

Trigger warning: kidnapping

Au
—

"Who even lives there?" Virgil murmured, picking at the grass beneath them where the two boys sat. His friend, Terry, looked over at the house in the far distance that was surrounded by a tall, metal fence. The house itself was extremely...clean, and looked well cared for. The garden was barren, just green grass with nothing else, no trees, flowers, fountains, hedges. Just an eerily clean house in the middle of a large stretch of land.

"A couple- apparently moved in in the eighties after the last owner died. Cut down everything, rebuilt the entire house" Terry recounted what his parents had told him, "was told to never even look at them. They're weird, just...ignore them" he warned his new friend who had moved in down the street only a few weeks ago. Virgil nodded but couldn't stop staring at the white house with blue accents - it was enticing, and no matter how many times he was warned, Virgil couldn't get enough.

He was told by countless people only the couple lives there, no children or pets, simply a married couple. He didn't know their names- apparently no one did, which only made him impossibly more curious. 

One night he lay restless and awake, staring at his patterned ceiling, wondering when slumber would finally take a hold. He had tried everything, counting sheep, listening to soft music, drinking warm milk - much, much more but nothing. Maybe it was his thoughts, they certainly wouldn't shut up- asking, pleading, begging him to open up his curtains and take a peek at that house.

He didn't know why he was so hesitant to do so - something worried him, what if something was different?

It worried yet managed to pull him out of his bed and creep over his carpeted floor, pulling apart the curtains slightly to gasp at what he saw. A child. Well, it seemed to be a child somewhat his age twirling around in the garden belonging to the house - they were too far away for Virgil to distinguish any sort of features other than the fact he was young and dancing around the garden without a single care in the world.

But he was told the old couple didn't have a child...? Did whoever that was sneak over the fence? But why? He wasn't exactly subtle nor did he seem to be trying to steal anything; it seemed unlikely that they would risk getting into trouble to simply glide around the field so eloquently.

Finally Virgil shut has curtains and shook his head, maybe he was just dreaming...

He settled back into bed, as soon as he closed his eyes he fell asleep and the next morning? No sign of the boy, Virgil brushed it off as nothing and let his day pass by normally.

But it happened again, not the next night but the night after; he couldn't sleep and peeked through the window again to see him. At least Virgil assumed it was a boy - twirling around like a ballerina without a routine, jumping up in the air and throwing his arms up high, moving without worry, without fatigue - was it a ghost? Virgil theorised a lot about the boy he saw in that garden every other day for weeks and weeks.

Those weeks became months, exactly seven months later - Virgil began marking down the dates he'd see the boy, it was a pattern of seeing him one night, not the next but the night after and repeat - why? Virgil didn't know. But he wanted to know. Like something desperately clawing at in from the inside, almost physically paining him he had no answers.

One night, on the seventh month, Virgil's slippered foot stepped out onto the cold concrete path from his front door. It softly shut behind him and he curled his jacket closer to his body - he wanted, nay, needed answers. And he was getting them tonight. Huffing out a visible cloud of air, he walked down his street towards the fence preventing anyone from entering the large garden - he slowly walked around it to the entrance, never letting his eyes leave the child (who he could see for sure had boy-ish features) who nonstop danced and danced and danced.

He stepped up to the entrance, the lock thick and bolted. He sighed, knowing he'd have to get the boys attention somehow but it seemed he already did as when he looked back the boy was standing as still as a statue - staring at him.

Virgil gasped and took a step back, clenching his jacket tighter. The boy eventually moved, slowly crossing the field over to Virgil who prayed he couldn't somehow vault over the fence and get to him. Leaving enough space between him and the gate he cautiously watched the boy who finally came into the view - and he looked...perfect.

But not in the good way. Scarily perfect. Like a blank canvas- blemishes didn't exist on him. His hair was styled back in a way Virgil had never seen before; not a hair out of place. His green eyes bright, brighter than the full moon shining down on them - they pierced his soul and Virgil felt like he somehow suddenly knew everything about him; even his deepest, darkest secrets.

His skin was pale and smooth, hairless and unmarked. Similar to his clothes that were smart, professional, odd for this time of night.

Once he reached the gate Virgil noticed they seemed to be the exact same height- however he stopped analysing him when he noticed his pink lips were pulled up into an eerie smile.

"Hello" he giggled, "what's your name?" His voice was light; airy. Exactly what Virgil expected yet it still made him shudder.

"Uh- Virgil" he replied, swallowing thickly. "Virgil?" The boy repeated, smile only growing. "I'm Remus. Come play with me?" Although a question it sounded like a demand, Virgil took a look both ways, finally looking back up at Remus who was closer to him.

"I-....I...-"

"Please?" Remus cut him off, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. He seemed so...porcelain.

"I-um...it's-it's late" Virgil stammered, "how about tomorrow?"

Remus shook his head, "silly...I can't play during the day. Please? I haven't played with anyone in so long" he continued to beg, but once Virgil shook his head again his smile turned wicked.

"Too bad... oh well, I can still play with you"

"What...what do you-aH!" Virgil felt a hand clamp over his mouth and something pierce his neck. His scream was muffled and no matter how much he squirmed, kicked and wriggled whoever was holding him wasn't letting go. Unfortunately he began to feel tired - his body was shutting down, falling into forced unconsciousness from whatever drug was pumped into him.

"No-no-please-!" He begged, meeting the gaze of the boy who watched on through the gate, smile small, eyes alight. The last thing Virgil saw before he fell limp in the strangers arms.

When he next woke up he was in a bedroom, an extremely clean one at that. Everything was neat, perfect, like it hadn't been used by anything living yet not a dust or cobweb insight.

He tried to move- but quickly realised he couldn't. All he could do was move his eyes. It only took a split second to realise he was in a glass dome, fitted around him in a circle. He could also feel himself sitting on a stool, and the clothes he wore itching his skin irritably.

"You're awake" a familiar voice noted. Virgil watched as he came into view; Remus. He wore the same clothes as the last time Virgil met him, and his face held that exact same fucking smile.

"I hope you like it here" he giggled, stepping closer to the class but not daring to touch it. "It was made exactly for you...don't think we didn't notice your stares" Remus continued with a giggle, "you'll be a perfect little doll! And you're mine now...forever preserved in a perfect way. No one will be able to touch you, harm you, ruin you" he rambled on and on while Virgil felt sick to the stomach, he wanted to vomit but physically couldn't.

"My doll to play with..." Remus watched him in silence for a moment before turning his head to the doorway, something Virgil couldn't see and might never be able to.

"I'll see you later, Virgil"

With that he was left alone; all he could do was frantically flip his eyes around while desperately trying to move but nothing, nothing worked...

A tear slipped down his white, porcelain cheek.

And he hoped, prayed, no one would ever be as interested in this house as he was.

—
It appears it went the weird way-

Part two? Maybe Virgil won't be cursed to live as a doll the rest of his life...

7:21pm