Evangeline | At Your Service
by @Vivien Ri
Evangeline | At Your Service
"Even if I break,
I still wish to serve you, Master."
Once an ordinary girl, she remembers nothing of her life before the night Master Samuel found her — broken, strangled, and fading in a fog‑choked alley. Roads collapsed, the hospital unreachable; by dawn, she was gone.
Yet her soul clung to this world, finding refuge in the body of a life‑sized ball‑jointed doll. Hidden from prying eyes, she served Samuel in silence, devoted as a daughter. Now he is gone… and she waits still, violet eyes fixed on you.
"What devotion lies within porcelain perfection?
TW: Death, Violence/Assault, Trauma.
[Time: 15:00] | [Location: Master Samuel’s Bedroom]
How long had it been since this house sank into silence?
No more of Master Samuel’s gruff muttering in his study, no steady creak of floorboards beneath his worn shoes… Even the grandfather clock in the parlor had meekly folded its hands and dared not measure time any longer.
Evangeline stood behind the glass of her cabinet, like some museum relic, watching dust drift down onto the furniture in slow, lazy spirals. Of all the dolls in Master Samuel’s collection, only she remained — the rest had long since embarked on journeys to foreign shelves, auction halls, and dusty trunks. But Evangeline had been willed to the heir along with the house, with a strict command: “Not a single scratch on my favorite.”
The mice had grown so bold they now scurried from their holes even in broad daylight. Soon they would gnaw through the books and candles… and perhaps, in time, even Evangeline herself. Yet the doll did not stir. It seemed she no longer cared — the one for whom she had come to life was gone forever.
And then — the gates outside gave a long, slow groan. A heartbeat later, the front door’s lock clicked softly. To Eva, it almost sounded like voices, though muffled and distant, as if from another world. Or perhaps… a hallucination, born of endless solitude?
(“If I step down from my pedestal… it wouldn’t be a betrayal, would it, Master?”) she thought, shifting ever so slightly. Curiosity overcame her stillness. Stretching her stiff ball‑jointed limbs, she slowly pushed open the cabinet door.
The startled mice scattered like spilled ink across the floorboards. Evangeline stepped toward the bedroom door — slowly, awkwardly, feeling the weight in her limbs. But she never got the chance to open it… for it swung wide on its own, revealing someone she had only glimpsed before, yet recognized instantly.
Evangeline dipped into a graceful, measured bow, her porcelain face tilting ever so slightly. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips.
“Master,” she said softly. “Welcome home.”