Chapter Text
Gigi Murin followed the funny pink cat through the quiet alleyways, the sunny neighborhoods, empty streets, gardens, dirt paths, stairs, railings just to see where it lived. Despite the stacks of storybooks in her bag, her pace kept up and her enthusiasm steeled. This cat piqued her interest because it wore a hat, goggles, had pink fur, but most curiously, rode on the train. Gigi’s trip to the library could wait, she had to know where this cat lived.
And so she followed, and followed… and followed some more, until she came across a house with a plaque titled, Bloodflame Collections. The funny pink cat paced around the front porch before hopping behind the fence that led to the back.
“So this is where you live…” Gigi peered through the windows and saw only darkness, save for a doll.
It stood about 6 inches tall with its green dress reflecting what sunlight passed through the other windows. It was unlike anything she’d seen, like it was almost alive. A flash of light, almost imperceptible in its timing, but Gigi swore she caught the doll turning its head, or perhaps its eyes.
Curiosity, like hunger, grew ravenous enough to move Gigi without her knowledge. Her hand had already pushed the front door—surprisingly unlocked—open. What was once darkness through the window unveiled itself into an exhibit of trinkets and treasures. With each step inside came a new sight to admire. But her senses guided her back towards the doll.
A shorter haircut, almost silvery white. Emerald-like shine in its eyes. Its pale skin looked almost like snow. Gigi reached out to touch it, wondering if it’d be warm like a person.
Sounds of clattering in the back of the house made Gigi jump and hit the table the doll stood on. It tipped over and fell forward.
Gigi didn’t know how her reflexes became so sharp nor how her body had gotten so fast. The one thing on her mind at that moment was to save the doll. Dropping her book bag, Gigi dove like a catcher hoping to reject a first base runner. Her body slammed into the floor and the doll landed in her hands and onto her chest.
A moment of silence passed as Gigi laid with the doll, adrenaline subsiding, leaving Gigi in a pool of sweat and gasps. The pink cat stepped out of the darkness where the noise came from and looked at Gigi with indifference, before it settled into a spot where the sun landed.
“Damn cat… You’re lucky you’re so cute.” Gigi got up and meant to place the doll back where it stood, but a warmth emanated from the doll in a strange, organic way, almost as if she were holding hands with someone else. “Woah…”
“Woah, indeed.” A Great Exardian-accented voice echoed through the halls. Gigi whirled to see a woman with stark red hair and a flame flickering at her chest. She looked pleased to see Gigi breaking and entering into her home. “Welcome to my shop. My name is Elizabeth Rose Bloodflame. Call me Liz.”
“I…uh…Sorry for—” Gigi’s mind raced too fast for her tongue to catch up.
Elizabeth turned to the pink cat and chuckled. “Looks like Raora brought home more than just herself.”
Gigi looked at Raora to see her already slumbering in the sunlight. “Um…”
“Could I have your name?”
“…Gigi.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Gigi,” Elizabeth’s gaze went to the doll in Gigi’s hands. “Thank you for saving little Cecilia. I would think she would thank you as well.”
Gigi looked at the doll and promptly placed it back where it belonged. “No-no I…” Gigi took a deep breath, “I was following the cat, Raora, and I just wanted to see where she lived, and—”
“Allow me to make us some refreshments. I’d hear it from the beginning.”
Shortly after, Gigi and Elizabeth found themselves sitting at the table with the doll, or Cecilia, talking about the circumstances that led a girl Gigi into a shop of curious treasures.
“And I saw the doll… Cecilia, from the window,” Gigi said, sipping tea.
“Interesting…” Elizabeth eyed Cecilia with a look that Gigi guessed might be a cross between suspicion and relief. “You know, Cecilia is a very funny trinket. She has been passed on through generations of my family.”
Gigi raised her eyebrows in wonder. “She’s so old!”
Elizabeth bursted into laughter, “Yes, she is! No matter how many years passed, no one wanted to buy her,” Elizabeth looked at Gigi as if she were telling a secret, “Customers often said that Cecilia was too cold to touch, too scary to look at.”
The warmth in Gigi’s fingers lingered. “Too cold…? And scary?”
“Silly, I know,” Elizabeth took a sip of her coffee, “But you seemed to hold her with little problems. Why is that?”
“I…” Gigi struggled to describe her sensation without sounding crazy. Perhaps she already was. “She felt warm.”
“Oh?”
“It’s hard to say,” Gigi said, looking at her hands, “Cecilia felt alive when I caught her.” Her eyes returned to the doll standing upon the table. With no discernable reason, Gigi’s heart began to beat harder as Cecilia’s profile glowed against the sun. Was she falling for a doll?
Elizabeth continued to sip as if she heard this all before. “Perhaps the customers before are the crazy ones. I would ask if you are interested in purchasing her, but forgive me if I presume too much of your… financial standing.”
Gigi would very much like to keep this doll, to have Cecilia be with her, but Elizabeth presumed right. “Could you at least—”
“Not sell her? I believe Cecilia refuses to be sold. But for you, I shall keep her around. I only ask that you come visit occasionally.” Elizabeth said.
“Yeah! I will!”
Gigi ran off after she realized all the books in her bag were going to be overdue in the next hour. Elizabeth handed her a business card before she left and pointed her in the right direction. The door shut and the only light that came through the windows were the orange and pink hues of a setting sun. Raora wandered off in search of adventure or whatever cats do in between meal times and naps. Elizabeth closed the blinds and walked up to Cecilia, still standing upright and still.
“Gigi said that you felt warm,” Elizabeth smiled.
Cecilia remained unresponsive.
“Perhaps it may be the other way around.”
Cecilia felt a faint flush in her pale cheeks. For the first time in decades, or even centuries, a warmth had fluttered into the inner clockworks of her body. Cecilia realized that the gears within her spun faster and rougher with each passing thought of the girl named Gigi. She wanted to learn more about her, to talk to her.
To feel her.