Silof, hidden in the shadows, was brought Annabel the mechanical doll by a guard on their side, they looked at the scene. The ritual and the dancing people, Jasper was about to sing, Silof had taken a lot of time to prepare this. He focused on Annabel in his arms, “I hope you know what you are doing.”

“Be silent Silof, I want to hear him sing.”

Jasper creaked mechanically, and he started singing, “Elysium, the silent sighed lost lullaby, Elysian night, Elysium.” He focused on Amelia, “The child who climbs the edge of time, Elysian nights. The place the child you hardly knew sailed in her wooden shoe. Past the last star in the sky, where wished never wished to go.”

“Elysium, the silent sighed lost lullaby, Elysian night. The place where all the love you shared went day by day ’til none was there Where yearning and forgotten dreams are nursery rhymes the quiet sing. Elysium, the silent sighed lost lullaby, Elysian night.”

“The childhood friend you knew was there but never saw, or touched. And where they went when never called again, the place their loneliness all ends. All the sorrow, guilt, and shame burdens born and karma paid, In one soft breath, like candlelight dispersed in endless Elysian night. Amelia started to cry.”

“Elysium, the child who climbs the edge of time, Elysian night. As he finished, it seemed as if time had stood still for a moment,” Amelia felt a deep compassion towards Jasper.

Edgar just stared at the ritual, “Why did he sing? I am quite baffled, oh well. It was a one time thing.”

Jasper let out an evil grin, as suddenly, he started broadcasting the song, the dollies followed his example, then the other dollies. All over New Albion. Jasper commanded them to play the song on repeat, showing he had mastered numerous skills over the years.

Byron looked at Jackie, “Where did that come from?”

“I have no idea, I did not even know he could do something like that, was it the ritual?”

Fay kept on dancing and smiling, she did not even act surprised her father sang in his mechanical doll form. Byron looked at her mingling in the crowd who were still enchanted, “Mom, did you do this?”

Edgar gasped, “What, do you really think, Fay could do something like that, make him sing?”

Fay stopped dancing and sighed deeply, she walked over to Edgar, “You know, you live in this disillusioned world where we are happy. But the moment you brought back the dead, you threw that away. You can keep me and force me to be with you, but I have never been happy since you forced me to come back. Now, I had an eventful night, I am going home.” She walked off.

Edgar did not seem to know how to respond, the people in the crowd, slowly getting their senses back, just heard how he had oppressed his wife to be with him. Byron was right, he was going to oppress them all. Amelia cried she wiped away tears and ran away.

Jackie gasped, “Amelia, where are you going?”

Byron grunted, “Damn, Jackie go see if you can find her, I will help end the ritual.”

Edgar sighed, “You are good, Byron, you are good, my son, indeed, persuasive, smart, but you are nothing like me, I am going to win this race.”

Byron sighed, “Sure, whatever, dad,” he walked over to Charlotte, “Are you okay, it was a heavy ritual.”

Charlotte is a twenty-two-year-old woman of average height, with a lean and agile build that reflects her youthful energy. Her striking features include a cascade of vibrant, multicolored hair that falls in loose waves, and a set of bright, mischievous eyes that seem to hold a wealth of secrets. She carries herself with a confident yet mysterious air, and her clothing, a blend of eclectic and rebellious styles, mirrors the nonconformist spirit of the Voodoopunks.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I am fine, let me help you clean this up.”

I dusted off my clothes, “Well, that was an intense scene, wasn’t it? We should go see where Amelia ran off to while the other Voodoopunks are cleaning up their ritual.”

Amelia ran off to her home, a small flat, when she got home, her father was waiting for her. He is a middle-aged man with a stern and imposing demeanor. His features are hardened expressions, cold eyes that reflect his lack of compassion and empathy, a physically intimidating stature. “Where have you been, you fucking brat!”

“Dad, I was just, you know, out, doing my thing.”

“Doing your thing? When did I say you were allowed to do your own goddamned thing? You should be cleaning the house, I see dust everywhere” he slapped her hard, “Go to your room and think about everything you did wrong this time, you were probably hanging out with Byron again. That stupid punk has influenced you badly.”

Amelia sniffled and went to her room with only a bed, and a dolly she loved while her father kept screaming at her. She slammed the door and leaned against the wall as she let herself slide down and fall to the ground. She burst out in tears while holding the dolly that still played the song. “I love you, please be here for me.”

The dolly, which was her mother brought back from the dead, rubbed her mechanical hand over her back. Amelia felt a deep compassion for the dollies, freedom in Elysium, it sounded too good to be true, to be free from a cruel father. A father who helped her mother into the grave.

Amelia looked deep into the dollies eyes, “Mama?” She nodded while singing.

“I cannot be around here anymore, the loneliness, Byron does not even want me, I love him, but he does not even see me. He only has eyes for Charlotte and he is gay. He is always with her and not with me. Even at the parties, he never looks me up.”

“Mom, why do you sing this song?” She could not answer, but Amelia understood her.

“I see, Jasper wants you to sing this for me?” Her mama nodded. “Alright, I think, he noticed how sad I am, he must be sad too like some other dolls. And most of them seek freedom in Elysium.”

Amelia grabbed a pen and a paper, she started writing, the lyrics of the song that Jasper sang, the song he made for her. That he was broadcasting, to contact her. Amelia gulped and tears fell down on the paper she was writing. “Okay, this is it, I am going to where freedom awaits me. Mama, I need you for this, to free me.”

She shook her head, indicating she can’t. Amelia nodded, “Turn your back to me,” she did, Amelia opened a few panels and messed with her wires. It took a while, and she heard her father banging on the door. She tried to ignore him.

“Amelia, open that door, I have the belt ready, you need to be punished for not coming back last night, you did not even serve dinner for me. Goddammit you brat, what did I say about closing the fucking door.”

She looked at the door almost getting banged open, she looked her mama in the eyes, “There, that should do the trick,” she grabbed the paper with the lyrics. “Do it, quickly, before he breaks down the door.”

Her mama nodded, she grabbed Amelia’s neck and snapped it, just as she wanted, freedom in Elysium. After a minute, the door slammed open as the dolly hung above Amelia’s corpse. Amelia’s father gasped, “The doll killed her!”

He grabbed the phone and called the police, “Yes, I need to report a murder.”

“All right, sir, who has been murdered?”

“My daughter, she has been killed, by one of the dolls.”

“Excuse me sir, are you saying that one of Edgar’s dolls has killed your daughter?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying, she is cradling her body, her neck has been snapped, that song they are singing drove the doll to kill my daughter!”

“We are coming right now to investigate, please do not touch any of the evidence, if this is true, we have a major problem on our hands.”

It did not take long for the police to arrive with journalists in tow, the reports of a doll actually killing someone, was bad. They declared Amelia’s death a murder, a murder by a doll despite her suicide note with the lyrics. The journalists published a paper about the doll that had killed her. The days went by after her death. People slowly grew suspicious of the dolls, scared of them even. What if they would suddenly turn on their children?

Byron and Jackie tried to explain to people what must have happened, but even his rituals could no longer reach the scared people of New Albion, fear, paranoia, it all hung in the air. The tension rose and everything was about to crash and burn. It would turn out to be, a more disastrous event than Fay and Silof, who set this in motion, could have anticipated.