Play of Shadows

3.05 Childish Things

Ann walked down a hallway that stretched forever, like something out of a dream. A small girl bounced happily at her side, chattering at Ann and the little boy holding onto Ann's other hand. Her brother hummed along, focused on keeping the seamstress' gift from tumbling onto the floor. The box was too large for him to carry comfortably. The bow alone was as big as the child's head.

"Let me take that," Ann tried.

The little boy shook his head, as he had done every other time Ann had asked.

"We're almost there," his sister added. She carried a burden of her own – a grumbling porcelain doll that struggled for freedom every chance it saw. When she noticed Ann looking, the little girl tucked the doll behind her back, holding the poor thing by the foot. The doll shrieked in outrage.

"Just a little more," the girl said, face dimpled in an innocent smile. Her grip on Ann's hand tightened. If Ann took the doll, or the box, she would have to let go of one of the children. Neither was willing to be left behind.

"We should have asked A along," Ann sighed, although she doubted the man would have agreed to play the part of a pack mule, however briefly.

"He is very strong," little Sarah agreed, glancing thoughtfully back the way they had come.

"Mr. A doesn't like that room," Nick said softly.

Sarah's face scrunched guiltily. "Oh, right. I forgot." The girl brightened almost immediately, exclaiming, "There it is! Quick!" and tugged on Ann's arm, lurching the trio forward before Ann could open her mouth to ask any questions.

The reason soon became apparent. A door had appeared in the endless hallway, but it did not sit still. It flickered in and out of existence, more a fleeting shadow than anything corporal. Ann quickly took the lead. She managed to catch up to the fleeing door in a few hasty strides, grabbing onto the brass handle and wrenching it open in one decisive motion.

The door shook and filled, no longer a bare outline against the wall. Ann took in the sterile little room tucked beyond the threshold. She turned questioning eyes to her charges.

"That's the one!" Sarah confirmed happily.

So in they went. The door closed behind them, but did not disappear. Ann spared it a glance, then turned her attention to gleaming floor tiles and white walls and what looked like a screen in the stead of a window in a corner. Ann approached it warily. It was older tech then she was used to seeing, and decidedly out of place in the antique game world.

Two small beds sat pressed against the far wall. They were neatly made, the covers tucked in tightly beneath the mattresses. The frames were solid metal. The letters scratched into the headboard were decidedly out of place, the lines thin and misshapen and rusted with age.

A and K. Single letter each, cut into the metal in a shaky scrawl.

"This..." Ann began.

"Here we go!" Sarah exclaimed, purposefully loud, and set the doll down with a thump.

The doll sprang to its feet. It spent good few seconds straightening its dress and hair before stretching its short arms up in demand.

"Box," it said imperiously.

Nick handed the gift box over. The doll set the box on the ground, tottering awkwardly onto the toes of its shiny black shoes to reach the bow. It tugged at a loose end. The bow swelled before bursting apart, the box unfolding beneath it like a flower spreading its petals.

Sarah leaned into Ann, whispering an explanation, "Seamstress deliveries are very pre- parci-"

"Particular," Nick aided.