Raphael's Castle

4 || dolls with sad faces

dolls with sad faces

VIVRE AND RAPHAEL GET LOST. 

It turns out the Mannequin Room is more confusing that it first appears. The green veil has disappeared from their line of vision. In their attempt to find the exit, Vivre and Raphael hold hands (again) and navigate through the mannequin maze. 

And then, without any indication, the room opens wide. Light widens, softens, and turns into a pale pearl. The color of Vivre's skin changes under the new glow, from a white dotted with freckles to a smoother blush. As they continue to walk, squinting up, the floor becomes gentle and malleable. Instead of harsh wooden floors, it transforms into a plush pink carpet. 

Raphael pauses. "Give me a second." He takes off his loafers.  

"Shouldn't we turn back?" Vivre questions, adjusting the lace hem of her new dress with her other hand. "I mean, the exit clearly isn't this way."

"You still need some shoes of your own, right?" Raphael sets his shoes at the edge of the carpet, so that they're easy to spot. "I was unable to find anything back with the models. Maybe they'll be some up ahead. If, however, you would like to turn back..." 

"No, you're right," Vivre curls in her toes. She thinks of the rain outside. "We should check, just to make sure." 

With clasped hands, the two of them tread further. Soon, they come across a mansion. But it doesn't look a typical mansion. It looks more like a grotesque, inflated doll house, a giant version of the ones you find in toy shops. The mansion has pastel pink walls, a dozen glass balconies, and flowery vines along the entrance. 

Among them all lie more mannequins. These ones have more ordinary outfits, but have more realistic poses. It looks they've stepped in the middle of a paused historical movie. A pair of gentlemen in pastel-suits stand on the lawn, both with expensive cigars. As Vivre and Raphael pass them, she notices that the ends are lit. 

They come to a stop at the door. Raphael pulls Vivre closer. 

 "Stay with me."

"I'm not wandering off," She says, but her heart beats a little faster. "A house this big, there must be a closet inside."

"Absolutely," Raphael agrees. He pushes one of the framed, white doors open. "A mansion within a castle. Why not?" 

Inside, there's sugar, spice and everything nice. The carpet feels like walking along an imaginary cloud. A chandelier of pink and white crystals reflect pearly silver light. Long pillars stretch high, framing a white marble staircase that spirals up. There are portraits of princesses and princes on one of the walls. A bouquet of yellow hyacinths sits in the middle of the room, in a glamourous glass vase. 

They take a turn to the right and enter the dining room. A long, oak table stretches from wall to wall. Large arch windows line one of the walls. Instead of gardens, Vivre spots the mannequin room on the other end. Each seat on the table is taken. The mannequins are frozen in motions of eating, drinking and gossiping.

"Christmas dinner, perhaps," Raphael leans over a woman dressed in velvet red and takes a grape from the fruit bowl. "It's real."

"Spit that out!" Vivre cries, breaking their linked hands. "What are you doing?"

"Aren't you hungry?"

"I guess. But the food could be drugged."

"Who would drug grapes? Is it even possible?" 

"I don't know." 

Raphael takes another grape, presses it to Vivre's lips. She gives him an annoyed look. With a wry smile and shrug, Raphael puts into his mouth. He reaches for another one but Vivre intersects him. She purposefully twines their fingers together and forces him to follow to the stairs. Raphael chuckles, but she ignores him. 

"The closet should be upstairs right?" She asks as they run up the steps. 

"In the closet," Raphael agrees. "I have to admit I enjoy you taking charge like this." 

"I'm glad one of us is having fun," Vivre says, but smiles despite herself. 

The second floor contains a marvelous sunroom, a vintage movie theater, and a lounge full of laughing ladies. So they go on to the third floor. Even before they finish climbing the steps, Vivre notices the strange smell. Flowers gone rotten. 

Finally, they find the master bedroom. A man stands at the doorway, his expression of astonished horror. Vivre ducks past him and into the room. She freezes at the sight. Two mannequins lie in bed, half dressed and in a lewd position. The whole situation is set up to look like somebody came home to find his lover in bed with another man. 

"Well," Raphael says quietly. "This is an interesting way to play with your dolls." 

"Dolls?" Vivre repeats and then her voice goes quiet too. "Actually, that makes a lot of sense." 

The scene makes Vivre's stomach twist. With a frown, she enters the bathroom located near the back of the room. There's nobody in here and the room is just as elaborate as every other they've come across. Gold flowers frame the mirror. The countertops have dozens of products, from blood-red lipstick to diamond earrings. Vivre walks past the clawfoot bathtub and into the walk-in closet at the end. 

And freezes. 

The lights flicker on once they arrive. In the middle of the room, surrounded by jewel-colored ballgowns and bedazzled slippers, lies a glass coffin. And in the glass coffin is a woman with a familiar face.

"What type of scene is this?" Raphael murmurs. "Snow White?" 

"No," Vivre walks up to the woman in the case. "I know this face." 

It's her ex-boyfriend's, new girlfriend. Tessa White. 

"Is she dead?" Raphael asks. 

"I hope not," Vivre puts a hand to the glass. It warms underneath her hands. Cracks form underneath her palm, spreading through the glass coffin. Raphael nudges them backwards as the cracks streak all over. With one movement, they shatter. 

Tessa White opens her eyes. 

old faces can bring out the worst sides of people