Konrad's pace quickened, his breath ragged from the relentless pursuit. He knew not what chased him through the dimming light of dusk, only that it was terrifying enough to flood his veins with adrenaline. His rational mind screamed for him to stop, to confront this unknown terror, but his survival instincts urged him on. He decided to keep running, hoping to outpace whatever lurked behind, until a house came into view.

The structure stood alone, an oasis in his desperate escape. Made of sturdy red bricks, it had an inviting warmth despite the creeping ivy that clung to its walls, stretching upwards as if reaching for the last rays of the sun. As Konrad approached, the sky painted itself in strokes of reds, pinks, and purples—a sunset so striking it seized his breath for reasons beyond his exhaustion.

It was exactly nine years ago, on a day just like this, that Konrad had appeared in this world—an event so sudden and inexplicable that it haunted him still. The vibrant sunset took him back to those first bewildering days, where every moment was a battle against his ignorance of this strange world. He remembered Sultan, a figure who had toyed with him relentlessly, exploiting his naivety.

As the light dwindled, Konrad hesitated at the threshold of the red brick house. With a deep, steadying breath, he pushed the door open, the old wood groaning under his touch. The interior was shrouded in shadows, silent except for the faint whisper of wind through cracks and crevices. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the darkened corners, half-expecting the house to be as empty as it seemed. Yet something about the air felt charged, as if the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for the night to fully fall.

Regardless of whether Konrad found humor or sorrow in the sight of the house, it mattered little. With its immaculately trimmed lawn and ornate metal gates that arched gracefully into the sky, the house was a relic of time itself... and also his unwelcome home.

"You're late." Halfway down the hallway, a woman stood with an eerie, emotionless gaze that could make her be mistaken for a doll or mannequin—perfect yet lifeless. Her name was lemonade the maid of the house.

Lemonade balanced a silver platter in her hands, on which sat a clear crystal glass brimming with lemonade. Surprisingly, her name echoed the pale yellow liquid shimmering within the glass, making her presence as refreshing yet sour as her name implied.

"Where have you been? Sultan has been waiting for you, and you know what happens if you bore the young master," the woman advanced towards Konrad, her expressionless face becoming more intricately detailed, revealing beautifully crafted flaws. After all, she was not merely a woman but a life-size “living” doll, created by Sultan out of sheer boredom. Konrad could see a ear missing from lemonade in its place a antenna like device was slightly glowing.

Sultan's life, it seemed, had taken a turn for the worse the moment Konrad appeared. The fact that he was emotionally toying with a living doll was one step away from toying with him. Standing in that place, Konrad could recall that very moment vividly.

He remembered Sultan’s reaction to his arrival, the disgust plain on Sultan's face. With just one sentence from Sultan, Konrad's bright smile had faltered, his spirit seeming to crumble. Yet, his new mother ignored his sorrow, breezing past him to greet the authorities who had just arrived.

Never had Konrad felt so alienated. And as if the universe itself conspired to deepen his misery, he felt a sharp pain in his knee. Glancing down, he saw a small round toy rolling away. The boy in front of him stared with a cold amusement—a chilling delight that no child should ever exhibit.

"You don't belong here...this is my house, not yours," the boy said, his blank gaze unsettlingly devoid of emotion.

Oddly enough this whole family seemed…. Broken. So why was Konrad forced into this family? By whatever fate that brought him to this house no less?

Regardless Konrad had no desire to fight the maid currently waiting for his response. He knew he would lose.

Konrad descended the stairs, each step creaking under his weight, the sound echoing through the eerily quiet house. As he followed Lemonade, he couldn't help but notice the intricate details of the interior—the ornate wallpaper, the antique furniture, and the delicate crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. It was a house that exuded wealth and power, yet there was an undeniable sense of emptiness that permeated the air.

At the bottom of the stairs, Lemonade led Konrad into a dimly lit room. In the center, Sultan sat in a high-backed chair, his eyes fixed on Konrad with an unsettling intensity. The young boy's face was a mask of cold indifference, yet there was a hint of malice in his gaze that sent a shiver down Konrad's spine.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"You're late," Sultan said, his voice flat and emotionless. "I don't like to be kept waiting."

Konrad swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "I apologize, young master. I was... delayed."

Sultan's eyes narrowed. "Delayed? By what, exactly?"

Konrad hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He knew that Sultan would not accept any excuse, no matter how valid it might be. "I... I was lost in thought. It won't happen again."

Sultan leaned forward, his hands clasped together. "Lost in thought? About what, I wonder? About how you don't belong here? About how you're nothing more than an unwanted intruder in my home?"

Konrad flinched at the words, feeling them cut deep into his heart. He knew that Sultan was right—he didn't belong here, and he never would. But what choice did he have? He had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to.

“Why do you hate me so much?" Konrad asked, his voice trembling with emotion. "What have I ever done to you? I've been quietly existing all this time, is that not enough??”

Sultan's eyes narrowed, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his otherwise emotionless lips. With a wave of his hand and "You really don't know, do you? You're a mistake, Konrad. A glitch in the system. You don't belong here, and you never will."

He paused, his face returning to it’s emotionless state.

“And now that our…my parents are gone, I will be taking back that face you stole from me. You were a mishap of my ability. Or did you forget?”

Konrad froze “what do you mean?”

“Oh Konrad tisk tisk, you never pieced it together. I created you but you seemed to be flawed. I was intrigued why did you had a mind of your odd… it was odd, wasn’t it?” Sultan grasped his chest in excessy. “What is this? Why is my heart racing so fast? I want to feel this more, more, MORE, MORE!...”

Konrad felt a surge of anger rise within him, years of pent-up frustration and pain boiling over. Konrad attempted to express his lack of comfort in sultans obsessive expression "Then why keep me alive? If you think this is a game then..." he began to shout, his voice raw with emotion. His voice was cut off by his instinctual response "Why not just kill me and be done with it? How is it fun to toy with me if I am simply a living doll? I'm clearly already your toy"

Sultan head leaned back, his expression one of twisted in laughter. "Oh, Konrad. Where's the fun in that question? Watching you suffer, seeing the hope drain from your eyes day by day... it's the only thing that brings me joy in this miserable existence. I want to see how you tick, you won't break will you Konrad? I want to see you struggle more. Can you do that for me?"

Konrad hissed “ your sick!” All this time, he had been nothing more than a plaything, a source of entertainment for a sadistic child who had never known love or compassion. He had known Sultan was off but this was a whole new level of insanity, had he finally snapped.

Konrad's eyes wandered as he gazed at a peculiar bottle on the ground. It was fuming with a particularly sweetly sick smell. It seems like sultan was not himself, fully at least. that or his filter has finally snapped. Would he ever return to his semi sane self. Konrad was surprisingly hoping for the old sultan. He was at least reasonable.

Unfortunately it seemed like Konrad's gaze did not go unnoticed.

Sultan's eyes flashed with anger, his facade of amusement crumbling away. "You forget your place, Konrad."

With a snap of his fingers, Lemonade sprang into action, her arms transforming into razor-sharp blades. Konrad barely had time to react before she was upon him, slashing and stabbing with a ruthless precision.

Pain exploded through Konrad's body as the blades tore into his flesh, but he refused to give in. He fought back with all the strength he had left.

He dodged left as a sharp razer attempted to pin him like a nail to the floor. As he flung himself to the side his body was unable to fully keep up and his right leg was grazed at the tendon.

Lemonade dashed towards him flinging the metal serving plate like a disk at his neck. He barely ducked the plate, as it flew into the wall behind him. The lemonade filled cups landing perfectly on the metal serving plate with a ting.

Konrad had no time to react as a punch landed strait for his ribs. Blood gushed out of his mouth. Lemonade was too fast, too strong. Sultan on the other hand was about to loose the one source of entertainment he had.

"NO!!" Sultan exclaimed.

With a final, brutal blow, she sent Konrad crashing to the ground, his blood pooling around him. As a whole the size of lemonades fist replaced his shoulder blade.

As he lay there, his life ebbing away, Konrad looked up at Sultan, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and defiance. "You may have think you won." he gasped, his voice barely audible. "But I will make you pay for everything you've done! 10 times over!!"

Sultans eyes widened in shock. Whipping his head in furry at lemonade That was the last thing Konrad saw before his vision faded to black. Konrad's body had suddenly vanished in a puff of red smoke, leaving nothing behind but a faint whisper of his final words.

A moment of deathly silence filled the room. The only sound, a faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Then, slowly, a smile spread across Sultan's face—a smile that held no warmth, only a cold, cruel satisfaction. This was exciting! For the first time in Sultan's boring existence, he was enjoying something. His face showed his craving for that joy. He wasn't dead! He was now willing to forgive lemonade for her insolence. Maybe not completely though. There needed to be consequences, obviously.

"Run, Konrad," he proclaimed, his voice echoing through the empty room. "Run as far and as fast as you can. But know this: no matter where you go, no matter how long it takes, I will find you. And when I do, I will make you mine!"

And with that, Sultan turned and walked away, Lemonade following silently behind him. Her expressionless face void of any guilt as Conrad tisked. As they left, the house settled back into its eerie stillness, as if nothing had ever happened.

To Sultan, Konrad was alive. He knew he was, because he had created him. He wasn't about to let his toy escape him. However, as he began to feel the location of Konrad he felt a jarring pain assault his head. His connection to Konrad was cut off.