A petite young Korean woman stood before an open closet. She was remarkably pale, standing out even more with the sharp contrast with her lacy black dress and the long, black hair. From her perspective tucked under her arm, she scanned the shelves of necks with growing frustration. Doctor Mercurial kept most of this body marble except for special occasions, and when such an occasion arose, there was nothing more infuriating than not being able to find a piece!


The neck in particular, complete with lacy black collar, she’d had more use for. Its usual place was under glass on a pedestal not far from the master bedroom. She’d checked there, and the bedroom, and this was the last place it was likely to be before she’d have to turn over the entire mansion looking for it. The Winter Solstice Ball was tomorrow!


Merc leaned on a shelf, glaring at all the wrong necks as she thought back on the last time she’d used it. She’d put it on Jackie while playing with her more than a week ago. She was sure she’d put it back when they were done, but couldn’t think of any time she’d brought it out again since.


She beckoned toward the hallway door, it opened, and a serving cart rolled in bearing a porcelain covered platter. She tapped lightly on the dome, then waited a few seconds while Jackie’s collar did its part somewhere else in the building. A soft, muffled gasp indicated an arrival, and Merc moved the cover aside to reveal the servant’s disembodied head, decorated by a ruffled white headband with black ribbon, beaming and growing redder by the second.


“Yes-” she began, but the magician impatiently cut her off. “I’m looking for the pale neck with the black lace choker. This look just isn’t complete without it. From what I remember, you wore it last. You wouldn’t happen to know where it went, would you?”


Jackie’s gaze dropped, looking thoughtful and a bit worried. “No, mistress. You took it back in the morning, and that was the last time I saw it.” Her face brightened again, looking Mercurial in the eye. “Oh, but you’re taking this to the Ball? You should go as a dullahan!”

Merc paused, pursing her lips. There were two, maybe three things wrong with what she just said. The “maybe” was that sing-songy tone the energetic woman used when she thought she was getting away with something. It was difficult to be certain, however, as it wasn’t that much different from how she talked when excited.


Merc sighed. “You’ve seen a Solstice Ball. Every fifth person is going to be Marie Antoinette, or the Headless Horseman, or Frankenstein or his bride.” As she spoke, she retrieved a small cardboard box from the lower level of the cart, which Jackie eyed with curiosity. “Some of them were around for the French Revolution! You’d think they’d be tired of the cliché.”


She picked her up by the hair, eliciting a slight squeak of surprise, deposited her in the box, closed it, and retrieved some red wrapping paper with a pattern of Christmas tree ornaments. Having simply accepted what was being done to her up to this point, the servant’s muffled, nervous voice now came from within. “Mistress? Is this some sort of play? I’m having trouble breathing!”


“This,” Mercurial replied, running her hands along the edges of the wrapping paper to make them vanish, “is so that by Christmas you will never again forget that it is always ‘master’.” She clapped her hands around the sides of the box, followed by a “clack!” like some sort of stapler-like tool punching a hole through cardboard. She lifted her hands to reveal tufts of orange hair poking out of the sides of the box.


A sticker slapped on top completed the package. As she slid her hand slowly off of it, smoke rose between her fingers, leaving behind the branded message: “NO MATTER WHAT SHE SAYS, DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS”. “Ohh,” came the weak, regretful voice from within. “Yes, master. Sorry, master.”


As she strode briskly into the foyer where the tree was set up, her own head under one arm and Jackie’s under the other, a headless body in French maid dress and neck capped by the fabric of her collar was waiting for her, hands folded in front of her. It bowed deeply, blushing all the way to its freckled shoulders. The master chuckled, and placed the gift under the tree.


On her way back out, she gave the maid a kiss on her collarbone, and her butt a playful squeeze. A giggle and a call of “Thank you, master!” came from the box. The next two weeks wouldn’t be too terrible for the young woman. She was just too delightful for that.