Chapter 7: Scene 7- HoneyCR15P

When the thrumming began, and power began to course through the dungeon, Amanda was overwhelmed. What she recognized as her body was a mere fraction of her whole. She could tell now that she was not just the doll, the avatar that stood still on the floor of the House of Black Mirror, but the amusement park itself.

It made her feel dysphoric. So many parts of her body were crusty and broken down. Teenagers had shattered mirrors all over. The weather had done a number on her joints. The Ferris wheel and rollercoaster were beginning to collapse in places. The wax that dripped from cracks in her walls felt like her skin had broken and ichor had bled through the gaps.

She was imperfect. Not yet whole. She could feel the longing and desire to polish rusted girders and cannibalize trees to fortify her wooden foundations. The lack of life in her dungeon was like a hole she'd felt before, one that could only be filled by creating mascots and minions to glue in the gaps. It was all too much.

Amanda fell to her knees and began to cry. She knew that bee-shaped drones were hovering in her airspace, waiting for her to show signs of weakness. She was exposing herself to an attack by dallying like this; she still could not bring herself to stand. All of her euphoria had been washed away in a single moment.

No matter what Calico did, she couldn't put paint on an ugly duckling and expect it to be a swan.

Amanda had been starved of affirmation her entire life, and the one time she felt whole? That was torn away from her in an instant.

All Amanda had left was an echo of the temporary euphoria. As she curled up in tears, all she could see in the mirrors was a tar-stained abomination, trying their best to be beautiful and failing miserably.

A screen quietly opened to her right, but Amanda gave it no response. There were no words that a terrible creature like her could say which would satisfy Calico's questions.

"Go away!" Amanda screamed at the box, her voice filled with an uncertain static that echoed through the loudspeakers of the attraction. "I don't need your pity! Even if you do this all for me, it's just fake. I'm still ugly…"

"I'm not a girl. I'm just… a fake. Living in the body of a girl. Playing with dolls." Amanda choked. "I know what everyone else sees. Just a faulty, broken-down plaything. I don't need you to lie to me; to make me happy."

Amanda sniffed, wiping against her rectangular face and cleaning off the black tears. Rectangular face? Under her eyes. She doesn't know why she thought about that. "I'm feeling better. Sorry, you didn't need to see that."

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"I have repairs to make. I don't even know where to start." Amanda could feel her head clearing up. Someone was pulling up just outside her dungeon; she could hear the roar of their motorcycle engine coming to a halt as they sat in her parking lot. The sensations got fuzzier that far out and only felt solid inside her fenced-off lot.

 

"Kamp…? Aren't I supposed to be powered by Faith?" Amanda knew that much. Faith powered every Divinity, and they scrabbled to have as many worshippers as possible. That was what the figurines in her backpack said on the packaging: Every little bit helped.

"Kamp is like a beauty cream?" Amanda gasped, and her eyes began to sparkle. Her understanding of the resource bloomed naturally. It had always been a part of her before she unleashed it into the world, but now she could tap into it. "No. It's the key to being whole. I know what to do!"

The House of Black Mirror shuddered, folding in on itself. A drone had been making a bee-line for her core, but that stopped now. Hallways shuffled and curled, creating a much longer and windier corridor.

Checking her reserves, she had twenty-four points left to spend. The gift from Calico had undoubtedly come in handy; she would not be able to sustain herself with the pitiful ten she began with. Now that she'd made space for herself, she had to prioritize her defenses.

One of the funhouse mirrors began to ripple, and a shadowy reflection emerged. It locked hexagonal eyes with the drone opposite, and they became locked in combat. Perfect.

"Let the counterattack begin." Amanda whispered to herself. The declaration felt right. If she could eliminate these distractions, she could be pretty again. She could feel happy once more.

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