The Strings Between Us

A Mortal Vow

The battlefield was still.

The ruined corridor of HorrorLand Castle was littered with shattered stone and scorched shadows. The wizard's final spell had torn the very air apart. Cracks spidered across the ground where magic had surged—where darkness had been undone by its own weight.

Slappy stood up, breathing hard, his limbs heavy from the battle. His cloak was torn and soot-stained. His green eyes flicked down to the debris on the ground... then up—suddenly, sharply.

"Belinda?"

There was no answer.

He turned.

She laid several feet behind him, framed in the dust-filled moonlight. Her cloak had burned away during the final blast, revealing her porcelain doll form — but it was no longer whole.

The previous cracks were much worse; tracing jagged lines across her neck, down her arms, along her cheek.

She was crumbling.

"No," he rasped.

She looked at him with wide, terrified blue eyes, and then fell to her knees.

"Slappy.."

He was there in an instant, dropping beside her, and immediately held her in his arms.

Her tiny, crumbled porcelain hands clutched at his coat, but they were trembling, barely able to hold on.

He held her close, cradling her in his lap as though she were made of spun glass—which, now, wasn't far from the truth.

"I-I don't understand," she whispered, breathless. "We won. You killed him..."

"We did," he murmured, brushing hair from her pale, doll-like face. "But his magic... the curse that made you... everything he touched is unraveling now that he's dead."

She blinked slowly, her body jolting with another fracture as a crack split across her collarbone. A soft gasp escaped her.

"Am I going to die?.."

Slappy's jaw clenched. "No. No, you're not."

"Slappy—"

"I said no!"

His voice echoed like thunder through the ruined hall. For a moment, neither of them moved. His green eyes flashed with something fierce—something raw and terrifying.

"I'm not letting you die," he growled.

He shut his eyes tightly for a second, then reopened them. A solemn, yet determined look was plastered in his eyes.

"I have to turn you back into human." He stammered. "It's the only way."

He knew it would mean he would lose her. But he knew it meant she wouldn't be lost forever.

"But if I change back..." she whispered. "If you make me human again, Slappy... I might forget you. Forget all this."

Her voice cracked with pain and fear. "You said it yourself. Spells that rewrite the soul sometimes erase what came before."

His grip on her tightened, ever so slightly.

She could feel the tremble in his hands.

"I know," he said quietly.

A beat.

"And I'm still going to do it."

She stared at him, disbelieving. "But you'll lose me."

"I'd rather lose your memory than lose you."

He rose to his feet, lifting her gently in his arms. "You were never supposed to stay a doll. I only ever wanted to protect you. I never asked for this—but you gave me something real."