Slowly the bat ears had rotated to an opened door as Sabrena frowned. Last she checked, she didn't have any appointments during this time just yet. Her thumb that rested on the tip of the wing reached to a clock beside her as she seemed to be trying to fix it. "Who's there?" She called out, her tail twitched angrily from left and right as she was prepared for anything.

"I-I'm sorry to be early ma'am, my name is-"

"Oh. You are that journalist," a breath exhaled from Sabrena. She didn't realize she was holding her breath. "Come in." She tilted her head towards a room. Stood up straight, she led the journalist to a nice lobby with tables and chairs. Her ears slightly twitched when she heard the scrapping of the chair, the rustling of the bag. Perhaps the journalist was looking for something? Then sure enough, she could've sworn she heard the click of the pen and papers shuffling. Ah. She was getting out her notebook. Dully, Sabrena sat on a chair. "I do not understand, why do you wish to interview me?" She took in a sharp inhale and right away, her nostrils burned. She was in a presence of an almost soul-less puppet.

"Oh! Well miss, my name is Susan Bickerson, I work for-"

"You didn't answer my question." Sabrena was never the one to waste time. Straight to the point. She could hear her foot shuffle on the floor. Was Susan mad at her? Oh well. "Ma'am, you are blind. You use voodoo dolls as ... what did people say, for white magic? Everyone knows voodoo is black magic! Yet they say you use the dolls instead of actual acupuncture. Why is that?"

There we go. Straight to the point. Sabrena slid off the chair and headed out, "Follow me." She lead the journalist out and to a black door. Once she opened the door, the journalist gasped. Sabrena wasn't too sure why she gasped but she remembered the set up of her room. Antique and beautiful tables set up. The table to the left had needles and thread, neatly organized. Underneath the table was a box of cleaners. The table of the middle had fabric and stuffing. There was glass jars with different things in it, scales, furs, hair, nails, and a tongue if she remembered right. Lastly, the table to the right, were beautiful dolls she had created with her own thumbs. It wasn't easy but she found a way to do it. She used her feet.

"Have a seat." She gestured towards a comfortable looking pillow on the floor. A soft plop was heard. "How do you make the dolls, with your impairment?" Susan spoke up. Sabrena went to the middle table first, her wing extended to help her find it. To the far left of the room against the wall, was a grandfather clock, ticking every second away. The ticks helped her identify what's going on in the room, she can even tell where Susan was. "Quite simple, really. I'll show you." Sabrena spoke as she gathered up the materials along with a sewing tin can, and carried them into front of Susan as she sat down onto the comfortable pillow herself and placed the materials in the middle. Leaned back slightly, she used her feet to help her. The journalist gasped in surprise. Of course! No one had thought that she could use her feet. "Incredible!" Sabrena had noticed that this journalist hasn't written one word since she pulled out the pen and notebook. The wicked sweetheart Lasirus knew she recognized Susan for who she really was. "Would you like me to help you relieve anything?" Sabrena questioned, waiting for a reply while she worked on the doll. "C.. Could you help me get more strong? I don't mean powers of course! You see, I'm weak and frail, can barely lift more than 10lbs!" Susan checkled but the chuckled was false. Even Sabrena can detect the very tiny drop in the tone. Susan was lying. "Of course! I will help with that. May I have a bit of your fur or scale?" She questioned.

Hesitation. Sabrena extended her foot out and the right one was grasping the doll in her grip. Sabrena made sure that she made no emotion. Then a small shuffle. Something soft had landed on her foot. "You see," Sabrena started as she shove the hair into the doll along with stuffing. "Voodoo, by many people, is seen as black magic. But why?" She questioned as she started to sew the opening up. "I think it's because people are scared. They don't understand it! I vow to change it, but there's a problem..." She sighed as she reached to the tin can with her wing and thumb, using them, she opened it and pulled out a needle and sniffed it. Nope. She put it back and pulled out another needle. "Why are you sniffing the needles and what is the problem?" Susan voice was hasty. Thirsty almost. "Because," She started as she used her feet and the ticking of the clock to help her get the thread through the hole of the needle. Immediately, she started to sew the spine. Susan let out a muffled cry. "Because, each needle is different. Some is stained with blood. Others, herbs. Yours? It's blood." She growled as she stared at the figure before her. So called Susan.

"My problem? Beings like you... what's wrong? Can't move?" The being in front of her whimpered and shook a bit. "Oh honey. I sew your spine. You are frozen solid in your spot. Voodoo is white magic. But for beings like you? I use black magic. You are here for power. After all, you are being controlled by someone else, aren't you?" The being's eyes went white but of course, Sabrena didn't see it but she felt a jump in the power. She had to act quickly since she was alone by stabbing the needling into the brain, breaking the control the pupperter had. A loud thump was heard onto the floor. Sabrena sighed softly. "When will this stop?" Humming gently to herself, she got up and went to the middle desk, opening drawers. There was more glass jars but they seemed to have herbs, fluids, different things of some sort. Sabrena pulled out a jar, black and thick. "There you are." Headed back to the cursed doll that rested in the middle, she covered the tar around the head and then dipped the needle in tar as she started to sew;

"Oh being, oh being,
Tell me why do you crave?
Oh being, oh being,
I do not approve of control,
Round and round your mind will spin,
Fragile you will grow,
Soul becoming thin,
For you will no longer be bold.

Oh being, oh being,
Like a spider said to the fly,
Oh being, oh being,
Upon the threads you will liquefy,
Slowly and slowly your heart beats,
Timidly your lungs slows,
You are darkness feast,
Forever you doze.

Oh being, Oh being,
Remove the strings from the creator,
Change of heart and soul will be freeing,
Or forever you will nap."

A soft exhale as she pulled back and finished wrapping the thread around the doll. The doll was covered in the black sticky goo around it's face with black thread around the doll body. Getting up, she headed towards the wall. With a slight push, it popped open, it was a hidden room. Opened it slightly, she threw the doll into the room. Sabrena stood there for a moment, her wing resting on the side of the door. Why was this constantly happening? Lately, there has been almost soulless and brainless puppets, controlled by another being trying to get more power by learning the secrets of other magic. Jeopardizing her and many others. "I'll find a way to return your souls." Sabrena vowed. With a gentle sigh, Sabrena pushed the wall, closing it. Putting the things around, the body was no longer in the room with her. It seemed to have disappeared when she finished making the doll. Her ears rotated as she heard the door open. "Ah! Are you here for the 3:00pm appointment?" Sabrena questioned.

"Y-Yes ma'am. I've been so tired. And my back hurts so bad. Can you help me?" The woman voice spoke to her. Sabrena's ears lowered slightly as her facial expression seems to soften from a cold-heart creature to someone who actually cares. "Of course. Come here and rest on this bed... you need to be comfortable..."

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