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The Workbench in the Dollhouse	By : KnaveOfDiamonds Category: +S through Z > Shadow Hearts Views: 1876 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Shadow Hearts, or any of the characters from it, a fact that I am sure makes a great many people feel at ease. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Workbench in the Dollhouse
- 2-An Epilogue, of Sorts
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There was something altogether unwholesome about this old house. But despite that, Gepetto had insisted they head in. Or rather, he went in before the rest of them, Cornelia in tow. In the end, Yuri, Joachim, Kurando, and Anastasia had gone in after the old puppeteer and his doll. The rest of them had stayed outside and waited.

After an hour, Karin had started getting nervous. It shouldn’t have taken that long to get through a house that size. The other two were no help. Blanca had gone to sleep, and Lucia was off with the fairies. Finally growing impatient, Karin picked up her sword and entered the house alone.

Really, if there was one moment that she could pinpoint as where things went wrong, that was probably it.

Even with the low lighting of the house, Karin could see the signs of a fight in the foyer. The tell-tale wreckage that came whenever their particular bunch came across a demon was in full display. But that wasn’t what drew Karin’s attention. Under a displaced carpet, she saw the stair case leading down.

“Maybe that’s where they headed.” She said, for no real reason other than to create a break from the silence. She started down the stairs, dust being kicked up by her footsteps, a dim electric lamp in the room being the only light source. Still, what it showed was a surprise. To one side were a number of discarded doll parts, above a desk, tools and string. But what was most noticeable was the undressed doll lying on the desk. Long red strings led from each of her limbs, falling to the floor, where they had been cut from a marionette’s cross. It looked like a wooden body of a woman in her twenties.

But what was most jarring was the doll’s head. The spiralling blonde hair was the first give away, but the size of the doll had thrown Karin off. But it was definitely Cornelia, Gepetto’s strange puppet. But Cornelia’s body was that of a child, this was a full grown adult. Karin walked closer, looking down at the doll. Her eyes were closed, but as Karin neared, they flicked open, her dark blue glass eyes seemingly shifting to look at Karin. Despite this, she continued to lean closer. And then, with a sudden movement, the doll jerked up, her painted wooden lips connecting with Karin’s.

Karin jumped back, her hand going to her sword. But when she went to shout, her lips wouldn’t move. They felt sealed shut, unresponsive no matter what she tried. Her free hand went to her mouth, and what she felt was… wrong. Her lips felt like wood. Polished, well sanded and painted, but wood nonetheless. It wasn’t just her lips, her entire lower jaw felt wooden. As her eyes looked back to Cornelia, she saw the doll standing, looking confused.

And then Cornelia opened her mouth, with a minor ‘ah!’ sound. The doll seemed as shocked as Karin was, but also taking in by the novelty of moving lips. She didn’t speak, getting used to moving parts she didn’t have before. Her wooden hand, fingers unmoving, mimicked Karin’s, a painted hand touching flesh. But Cornelia couldn’t see what Karin could, the ghost like figure behind her. Karin once again tried to shout, but her lips still refused to move. She could only watch as the figure vanished and red seeped into Cornelia’s eyes.

Karin’s right hand leapt to her sword, but one of the strings leapt from the floor, and wrapped itself around the former officer’s arm. And instead of grabbing the hilt of her sword, she knocked it to the floor, with the clink of wood on metal. The string briefly linked the woman and the doll, before it fell from Cornelia’s hand. And then Cornelia flexed her hand and fingers, looking down at not a doll joint, but an elbow of flesh and blood. The change ran across her arm up to her shoulder, painted wood turning seamlessly to flesh until it reached her shoulder. Karin was too transfixed to notice the opposite was happening to her, until her arm flopped uselessly and woodenly to her side.

Her good hand reached to her now wooden arm, grabbing her bicep and trying to lift the arm. Her eyes widened as her forearm fell backwards, the flexibility of the ball joint letting it bend in a way a human arm could not. Cornelia, or whatever was inside her, picked up the fallen string and suddenly Karin’s wooden arm moved against her will. Her hand, solid wood, moved up and then tore away the shirt and bra Karin was wearing, once hand me downs from costumes the puppet wore for Gepetto’s puppet shows. Reflexively, she covered her exposed breasts, but her right arm did the same to skirt and panties. In mere moments, Karin was unarmed and wearing nothing but boots and gloves.

Cornelia was in a similar state of undress, of course, but she was hardly anatomically correct. The doll moved toward her, and Karin tried to step back, but her traitorous arm pulled her back towards the doll with a sharp jerk. The strings connected to Cornelia’s ankles wrapped around Karin’s legs, and moments later, they collapsed under her in opposite directions as Cornelia’s own legs went from doll to flesh, stopping at the top of her thighs. Cornelia stood over Karin, and fear flowed into Karin’s eyes. The doll girls new hand undid Karin’s hair, and as it fell to Karin’s back it no longer felt real. Her long red hair felt artificial and strange, while Cornelia’s curls suddenly plumped to life. And then Karin was lifted off the ground, feeling like she weighed nothing. Her long boots slipped off her legs and landed on the floor. As she tried to push away, her right arm wrapped itself around Cornelia, making it harder for her to escape. She found herself pushed into Cornelia’s torso, her nipples pressing against the smooth wood of Cornelia’s breasts.

And then she was put to the workbench with a wooden thud. Her rear end hurt, but not in a normal sense. Her body was firm beyond reason. And as she saw Cornelia step back, she knew why. Cornelia’s body was now pure flesh, apart from her left arm, and her haunted glass eyes. A ghostly voice echoed in Karin’s head.

‘What did you expect, coming into a doll maker’s house wearing doll’s clothes? This is clearly what you wanted. Don’t worry. That girl will be my finest puppeteer, and you my finest puppet. A raunchy one, certainly, but you don’t seem to have much shame. I shall have the girl finish the work, and then you can remain a doll forever.’

Karin’s eyes could no longer widen, her eyelids heavy and wooden. She tried desperately to push the possessed Cornelia away with her free hand but the final string was wrapped around it, and it fell to the ground with a thud. Cornelia picked up a paint brush, and started to work. She looked up, and saw the mirror on the ceiling, as Cornelia painted her lips a fuller red, adding rose to her cheeks, and a slight blush across her face. As she blushed, she felt… naughty? Aroused?

Cornelia’s work continued, adding eyelashes, and then small triangles of wood to her smooth breasts. And then, after what felt like ages of careful sanding, Karin suddenly felt as though her nipples were erect, as Cornelia again added paint. A cloud of lust she couldn’t act on slowly sunk into her mind. But as Cornelia leant down to start on her crotch, she heard the collapse of a wall above them.

‘It seems there are interlopers.’ The voice in Karin’s head echoed. ‘I shall finish you afterwards.’ With that, the red light faded from Cornelia’s eyes, as they returned to their glassy blue. The former doll looked down, and seemed… horrified, by what she’d done. But Karin was finding it harder to focus on Cornelia, as she heard the ruckus from upstairs.

“I told you that wasn’t the exit to the maze!” A young girl’s voice shouted.

“Hey, whatever works, right? Besides, looks like we finally got someone’s attention.” The unmistakable arrogance of Yuri Hyuga was the second voice she heard.

There was the loud stamping of something marching in, destroying parts of the house upstairs.

“…That is one messed up looking puppet.” She heard Yuri speak again.

“Never fear! No puppet can stand up to the rippling muscles and masculine beauty of… THE GRAND PAPILLON!”

“Great. Here we go again.”

Yuri dusted his hands off, and looked around. The Crazy Old Doll Maker’s puppet was a mess. So was the front of the house. Lucia had started to deal with Gepetto’s injuries, which the old man was in no way objecting to. Joachim was looking at one of the massive arms that remained of the giant baby doll’s arm, considering its effectiveness as a weapon.

“Alright, looks like we’re all good.” The brawler muttered. “Now let’s just find Cornelia and go.”

“What about Karin?” Lucia asked, looking up from her work. “She walked off after you, I think.”

“Huh? Really? We didn’t see her.” Yuri took a look back at the wall that had led into the maze, but there had been no sign of her there.

Then, Blanca barked to get the groups attention, tearing a carpet away from a hidden path down, Anastasia and Kurando going over there. The wolf looked at Yuri, and then waved his head downwards. As the four of them descended the stairs, Anastasia’s eyes widened.

“Wait, is that…?” She pointed out ahead of them. In the darkness, a blonde woman in a state of undress seemed to be cradling another woman, red haired and equally nude. As they got closer, though, it became clear that the redheaded woman was less a human and more a very convincing doll.

“Karin? Cornelia?” Kurando asked, as Anastasia raised her camera and took a picture of the scene, if just to make sure it was really happening. The flash revealed all. Yuri blinked.

“….Whoa.” Was all Yuri could add.

Several days later, they slowly got their head around what could happen. While Gepetto could hardly puppet Cornelia anymore, the former doll used picked up the slack as she slowly got used to having moving parts. Over time, she became more, and more human. Try as they might, however, there was nothing intact in the remains of the doll house that had anything to reverse the task.

As time passed, Karin, or Anne as Anastasia started calling her after a month, got used to being moved around by Cornelia, become content, if a little frustrated, at being a puppet. She slowly forgot what being human was like as Cornelia became more so. She still fought alongside them, but had none of the responsibilities the rest of them had.

It wasn’t so bad, being a puppet, especially one with such fine workmanship. And the rest of the group didn’t seem to mind. Indeed, it was like they’d all forgotten she was ever human at all.

Had she been? No, that’s silly. Anne was just Cornelia’s doll. She always was.
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The Workbench in the Dollhouse