Ballad of Zellen

Miss Madeline loved her dolls. Her house was lined in porcelain souls. She sat amongst her stale friends and wondered what could possibly fill her heart again. She pondered and wondered, well looking into the silhouetted wall. Seeing the blankness that peers from dimensions to all. She sought at the moment to make it so, “A new friends will lie within the mirror of my soul. She was of beauty in framed in a capsule that created, she is not a ghost but made of glass, sculpted up in a porcelain bath. She will remain forever and so, as long as I live, the power will grow.”

Miss Madeline couldn’t fathom a life without her dolls, her babies, her friends. It was all she grew to know over the decades on end. She had no children, no husband, no real friends. Just a mansion that sat above the weakened lake cracks. Peering down to the withered mass. She had no real home, just a fortune that will go blanketed and cold when her time was known.

It took weeks for Zellen to be created, the project took longer than Miss Madeline would have originally wanted. Men came in twos and threes adding a layer of porcelain creases. She wanted each one to be as unique, as indented, as shinny in different seeps. Miss Madeline didn’t let it go, she needed it to be perfect, she needed to be beautiful. But something was always missing from her original creation. She could never place her finger on it. Miss Madeline slept on the irritation before coming to the epiphany that maybe the thing that was missing was a part of her. Zellen breached as soon as the blood touch of her master was scented. She was complete.

Miss Madeline loved her Zellen. She loved the companion that gave her life. Another creature to call her own. Another creature to share her home. She stood day and night, reaching up and holding her tight. She flaunted her love and tow to Zellen she gave her soul.

Unbind came from Miss Madeline’s death. All of her children were moved to the storage unit. The guards passed by and never gave much mind. Months shall pass before Miss Madeline’s children were to be sold. Across the country one by one, a new owner was where they were sold. All except Zellen, who never wanted to leave here master’s side. Coped up in the melted storage blinds.

The guards weaved on, knowing that something was always off and wrong. Until the quiet night when tapping pierced the mind. Tap, Tap, Tap. The guard refused to go on, knowing it was coming from Miss Madeline’s porcelain crypt. Tap, Tap, Tap, Crack. Here she reached through the window tint. The guard feared, but his job was clear, all noises must be observed and cleared. He step one foot at a time, past the other lost mines. Tap, Tap, Tap. He reached for the level and moved it up. All porcelain eyes sat and watched. He thought for a second to call some back up but was too close and it was just one checkup.

He moved on and reached the back, seeing the curtain illuminating with light. Tap, Tap, Tap came from the curtain crack. A shatter then echoed, and the guard stopped in his tracks. He stood in place, in all awes and ohs. “Hello,” he rang as an arm reached through the mirrors home. He gained his strength and walked to the back, removing the curtain. For a second he stared at the silhouette of Zellen. She stared back at him, unmovable in her stare. Broken glass was fallen on the floor.

The guard sat in confusion, “How was this mirror broken?” From the knowledge he was given he knew that the mirror wasn’t too old to be broken. Maybe a rat, maybe started with a crack? He looked back to Zellen. Capsulated in her hollow eyes, drifted to the story of how Miss Madeline gave her life. Still holding his gaze, the humanoid moved her hand pushing through the open glass cracks.