I heard the clock tick on forever and ever. I tried to move, but I was ice cold, frozen. I couldn't escape this tragic fate.

I had tried so desperately to run. I ran, ran from my own father, only to be brought down.

I had been so close to freedom. The exit had been just down the hall, but I failed to reach it. What would things have turned out like if I had made it?

I had a lot of time to think about that, considering my present state. My sad, immobile, lifeless state.

I had become a doll. A creation of my father. He cut apart his own flesh and blood for the sake of a new doll. Now, I'm like this.

Even after father killed me though, my soul didn't move on. It was trapped inside of this doll. I was still on Earth. Alive, yet dead at the same time.

My soul couldn't move on, but why? I heard that spirits may linger if their hatred for someone is strong enough, but even after everything, I couldn't bring myself to hate father.

Even after he cut me open with a chainsaw. Even after I died of blood loss, screaming in agony. Even after he'd used my remains to make a doll. After it all, I still loved him. It's crazy, but I still loved him.

Then I wondered, what else could be keeping me here? Maybe...maybe someone was willing me to stay alive? But who?

All the spirits had moved on and Maria and that Dio boy are dead. But, was I really sure of that?

My thoughts came to a halt as I heard loud footsteps echoing, signalling that my father was coming.

The door creaked open, a pair of evil eyes covered by thick glasses scanned the room, then entered.

Father walked up to the throne I sat upon and gently rubbed my cold hands, heating them up a bit.

"Hello, Aya," He greeted, stroking my long black hair. "Did you miss me?"

To be honest, I did. He was the only company I ever had. Though he didn't realize it, I was listening to every small thing he said.

Whenever he left, I felt like crying out of boredom. Of course, I couldn't cry. I hated when he left also because that was when I started getting flashbacks. I'd remember every painful experience I'd gone through. Although they had phased me when I was alive, they tormented me now. I was so glad to see father again.

He hugged me close. I wanted so terribly to be able to hug him back, but my arms wouldn't cooperate anymore.

My father's eyes looked red, as if he'd been crying. The look on his face seemed so depressed and distant. I didn't like it.

"I wonder...," Father began to say, swallowing hard. "Could things have been different...?"

'Father?' I tried to speak to him, but my lips were locked.

"Heh...Nevermind. Things are best like this. No one can take you away. You'll be beautiful forever..."

'I suppose...'

"I wonder. Maybe I should bring you a friend. I have been working on something special." There was a mischievous glint in his eye.

What "friend" was he talking about? I knew it couldn't possibly be another human being. It must be a new doll. But a doll of who?

Father disappeared from the room, leaving me with my thoughts. My head was spinning. Who could this doll be of? Was it someone I knew?

It was. Father returned with an old friend is his arms. I would notice those brunette braids anywhere.

"Here, Aya. She should keep you company."

It was Maria. She hadn't changed a bit, not even her outfit was different. She wore the clothes she died in. Father took the liberty to clean them of course.

He set her down on a small wooden chair next to me, positioning her to his likings. Poor Maria. She was a doll too.

Father didn't stay very long after he brought in Maria.

"I should get back to work," he said aloud. And with that, he went back to his lab. Little did I know that another familiar face would be showing up soon.

Later that night, as the flashbacks were starting again, I heard a few quiet footsteps. Then, the door slowly opened.

If I were alive, I might've toppled over in surprise. There, standing in the doorway, was a small blonde boy, one side of his face masked by bandages. Dio.