Dolls that cry in sorrow

Dragon has been up for a while, a new chapter is up.

Warning: This story contains cursing, experimentation on humans, death, plagues, blood, rude gestures, generally unhappy emotional things, odd situations, and generally screwed up things.

When someone offers you a second chance at life, don't take it. I was a powerful knight, respected by my peers, no one would willing me fight me. However, there were people who hated my kingdom, so we went to battle. I was at the head of the battle, bringing my men to victory and I was struck down. After crashing down from my horse, I blacked out. The burning in my eyes woke me up, I'm still unsure of what made them so, but when I woke my comrades were gone. They had left me to die on the battlefield? Or perhaps they had lost the battle? In desperation I tried to move, it was impossible, one of my legs were broken and I had lost much blood from the wound that had knocked me off of my horse.

That man appeared to me, a doll maker. At the time I didn't know what he was, I thought he was some sort of doctor that could help me. I didn't know how bad my original wound was, it would have killed me. The man, he said, "I can fix you, only if you want that."

My voice was barely a whisper when I replied, "Yes." I finally realized how hopeless I was, why my comrades had left me to die on the battle field, there was no hope that the doctors could save me in time. That was why this man had come.

I blacked out from the pain, and blood loss. When I woke up next, I knew something was wrong.

The clothes I were in were like what I wore to a formal court ball. My hands, face, my whole body did not feel right, and most of all I could not feel the pain. My surroundings were different, I was in a place that had been abandoned. I couldn't swallow, I couldn't breathe, and yet I was able to move. Looking down at my hands, I removed my gloves to find joints. Doll jointed hands instead of my hands. It was a horrible nightmare, I kept on telling myself that, until I looked into a mirror.

I had been turned into a doll or rather, my soul had been stuffed in the empty shell of a doll.