The dining room was larger than either of the rooms you had been in before. As expected, it featured a long table, although it was a little longer than you expected. You counted fourteen chairs, all pushed in closely to the curve of the table's sides. The chair on the far end sits straighter and taller than all the others. You assumed the head of the house must sit there and, judging by the number of chairs, they had guests quite often.

Cabinets littered the red walls- the same red walls that covered the side room and the main entrance. You wondered if every room was colored red. For some reason, you didn't like it. The table was set for eight places. Each chair was faced with a plate, a wine glass, a bowl, a fork, a spoon, and a napkin but, curiously, no knives. Each was perfectly placed to match the others, the napkin perfectly folded into a sideways triangle, cushioning the silverware.

The most surprising thing was not how long the table was, but instead the fact that you were not alone here. Two men sat across from each other, heads bowed. As soon as you took the third step into the dining room, the men's heads shot up and turned to look at you. The motion was so sudden, so robotic, that you took a step back.

The two men looked on the younger side, maybe 19 or 20, had the same round face, and wore the same old fashioned black shirt with a white ruffle and buttons on their stomachs complete with black shorts with yellow trim. Your mind jumped to them being twins, but they looked too different from each other to be identical. The one on the right had yellow eyes open wide with excitement and equally-yellow wavy hair. Not blond- yellow. He sported a small yellow bow on his collar and a black-and-white top hat with a yellow ribbon around its middle. The man on the left also has a bow, but it was longer, larger, and orange to match his calm orange eyes and long orange hair pulled tight into a ponytail. Both were the same height, probably around 5'5".

"Uh, hi," you said, awkwardly raising a hand and waving it.

Something about the two men was putting you on edge and, after a moment, you could pinpoint the reason. Neither of them blinked, not even once. They stared blankly at you before twin smiles spread across their faces. Their emotions did not meet their eyes, which shined like glass. Their pale skin, you could see as they stood, was flawless. They're either pop stars or fake.

"Hello," they said in unison. A shiver raced down your spine, settling uncomfortably in your stomach.

"What the hell are you?" you asked, then covered your mouth when you realized the words had slipped out. Oops. That's kind of a rude, not to mention weird, question. They're going to think I'm crazy now. Well, "know". I'm totally fucking crazy just for wondering if they arent rea-

"We're dolls," they said, once again in unison.

"Like hell you are," you snorted.

The pair smiled knowingly, stepped away from the table, and rolled their sleeves up to their elbows. You let out a gasp as you saw what they were trying to show you.

Ball-jointed limbs.

"No fucking way," you said, "Let me see it closer"

The yellow-haired one stepped closer to you and held out his right arm. You walked to him and let your hand glide against his way-too-pale skin. Plastic. Definitely plastic.

You were the type of person who believed what they saw so, despite this impossible situation, you chose to go with the flow. There was a part of you that wondered just what the hell you had stumbled across. Living dolls? That was just something in stories, right?

"This is so. Fucking. Cool!" you let your fingers trace over the cracks in the joints, then grabbed the man's arm and made it bend while you watched it, excited to see the way it moved so stiffly, making an almost inaudible squeak as the plastic slid into position.

The dolls exchanged glances and laughed.

"Hold on, why are you grown-ass men? Don't dolls usually look like little kids or babies or whatever?"

The one with orange hair smiled, "What keeps us alive keeps us as the age our dolls are. We were both created by the same toymaker 20 years ago."

"Cool," you said with a grin, "Do you guys have names?"

"The son of the masters of this house gave us names when we were all children," the yellow-haired twin responded, "I am Sunao and he's Mousou."

"Never thought I'd meet people made of plastic, but nice to meet you," you said with a laugh.

"We should play together," Sunao's smile widened. You were sure that, if his eyes weren't made of glass, they would flash with excitement.

"Play together? What does that even mean?" you asked.

"We have a room with board games and things like that," Mousou said, much calmer than his fellow doll, but smiling all the same.

"I will inform the masters that you are here," Daisuke said from behind you. You jumped a little, having forgotten that he was there too. He gave you a pleasant smile before leaving the room. You could hear the stairs in the living room creaking under his weight.

You turned your attention back to the dolls but, before you knew it, Sunao was dragging you by the forearm to the main entrance. The cool plastic felt strange against your skin, but you were more surprised by how strong his grip was.

When you reached the stairs, Sunao got behind you and started to push. "Yo, I can go up the stairs myself," you scoffed.

Sunao giggled again- a very childlike sound for a grown man. He released the pressure, however, and let you climb the spiral staircase on your own. You waited for them both at the top, while their limbs moved stiffly and slowly up each step. Once they reached the second floor, they each reached out and grabbed a hand. You pulled back in surprise, but they merely tightened their grip.

"We have to lead you to the playroom, you know," Mousou said, brushing his ponytail onto his shoulder.

"You don't have to hold my hands though," you pointed out.

"We just want to," Sunao said, letting out yet another giggle before they both began to walk, pulling you along between them. You decided not to complain- they still acted a little like children despite their age, and you couldn't fault them for that, considering they weren't actually human.

Over your head, the dolls exchanged giddy glances. You were with them! You agreed to play with them! How long would it last until you were pulled away from them? They squeezed your hands a little tighter.

For now, they would enjoy you as long as they could.