"「愛」Identity V x Reader Oneshots"

Doll Hunter Lore Pt. 2

I named our hunter, Diane Dukke, but in the game, she'd only be Diane.

Dukke -> Doll in Norwegian (google translate)

_______

Slot 3: "Only for his eyes": Requested by UnseenChild

          Aesop Carl, the apprentice of embalmer Jerry looks around his caretaker's room, which was filled to the brim with a painting of a girl. She had the whitest of skin, much like porcelain; hair, as gold as the sunrays that shine upon gold jewelry; and her eyes were like the sky on a snowy morning, a beautiful shade of periwinkle, and purple. On her hand was an intricate cylinder with a scrolled letter inside. Questions form in Aesop's head. There were plenty of more paintings of the girl, which made the boy curious. Who could be this lady who had captured his caretaker's eyes? He flinched when Jerry had walked in, walking over to a lone chair. He peered behind him, seeing curiosity in his apprentice's gaze, and decided to feed him of the incident of the passing of Diane.

          "She's the most beautiful client I've ever come upon. Do you agree?" Aesop hears his caretaker introduce, looking at arrays of paintings, and touching the piece as if she was there.  "A beauty fitted in a glass coffin, indeed, but to turn her into a magnificent porcelain doll was much more... perfect for someone as beautoful as her," Jerry trailed off in a trance about his doll, unknowingly latching Aesop to such a mystery. "A doll like her, I still believe that her soul clings on to her porcelain body. Alas, she has disappeared," Aesop looks at the worn chair. Was this where the doll sat? If so, who could have stolen the precious doll of his master? "However," his master intervenes with his train of thoughts, "I believe that death had taken her as a present, where her preserved body will live on in the embrace of sweet death," Aesop watched his caretaker talk about the doll. "My dear Aesop, you'll learn someday the beauty of that doll. Once you see her, you will never be able to look away," Jerry smirked. 

          For years, Aesop yearned to see the doll that his caretaker talked about, and sometimes he would think of the appearance, think of the touch of her porcelain fingers. His sanity gradually drains when he thinks about the doll, as if Jerry's insanity was tainting him. Everyday, he had wished to see the doll with his own eyes. Alas, when his caretaker left, he had pursued the teachings his caretaker taught him, and murdered? No... embalmed the people weak to the bones. There was not a moment where he forgot about the legend of the doll, not a moment where he did not think of the doll....

It was then when Jerry came back from the manor, severely wounded, his last words struck his apprenticed before Jerry's death...

"My precious doll... my precious doll!"

         His doll was in wherever he  went... What a beautiful news. To Aesop, he felt ecstatic to find the doll, and encase her in a beautiful glass case, covered in pretty flowers, and golden chains. Perhaps yellow roses suited her, just like her hair; or maybe bluebells, like her eyes. When Jerry died, Aesop continued Jerry's work of art, embalming the weak, and giving people the gift of sleep. Throughout the years, however, he has only one thought. Where could his master's doll be?... No. Where could his doll be?

❇

          Like a miracle, a letter, he received as he gives his innocent client the sleep of eternal rest. He set out to the road to Oletus manor, the doll in his mind. As the letter stated, you will find a treasure, and a treasure of porcelain.

        And it indeed was a treasure. Low and behold, the same girl in his master's paintings. Blonde hair, purple-periwinkle eyes, a blue dress that reached below the knees; his master had captured her appearance, but no words can describe her beauty. Despite the fact that she was dead, and how her face couldn't contort to happiness, or sadness; he felt the fear on her eyes, which made him much more excited of her presence. His gloved hand draped to her face, caressing her cheeks the same way her murderer did. She was mute, and it made Aesop believe that he was truly in love, as you were dead, and the dead are voiceless. The match ended with a win for the survivors, and Diane immediately ran away, not giving any moment to hear what the others have to say. T-that man... h-he can't be back right?! She frantically thought.

       Her reunion with Jerry were gazes of fear, and terror on ghastly orbs of blue. Now that she found someone, who looked exactly like him, with the same look of insanity; you felt nothing but despair. Was this the real challenge I have to face? My past, and my fears? Diane thought. She sighs and faces the real challenge to a second chance of living.

          Now that Aesop has seen the doll, Diane; it was his goal to retrieve her, doll her up once again, onto a glass case of yellow roses, in a white dress. Only for his eyes, and maybe Jerry's eyes as well...