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Dolls

A short horror story.

By Annabelle DrevenstedtPublished 5 years ago 2 min read
Cover art by me.

I had thought it couldn't get any worse than it had, the sounds were bad enough but to know at all times were they were was somehow even more unsettling. It was like some kind of sick game, glancing at the monitors and tracking there moments but knowing that if they found me I could do nothing to stop it from tearing me to shreds. It had wandered into one of the manny winding halls getting just a little further away from me. I suppose this would be comforting if I felt like there was a way to escape but I knew there wasn’t, no matter how much I looked not a door could be seen, no window I could get to before it found me. So I stay put praying it doesn't come this way but I know it will, it will run out of halls eventually and ill be waiting fore it.

Heavy breathing sounded from the monitors as the camras followed the thing looking fore me, I wanted to turn them off just so it wouldn't seem so real but the other sounds were worse so I endured the distraction. They pleaded behind me fore help I couldn't give all I could do was watch and hope that somehow something would come and save me. I closed my eyes tight fore a moment I had been staring to long, shaking my head I nearly screamed at the creatures face looking up at the camera its large toothy grin showing how much fun it was having trying to find me. It wouldn't be long, I could see it in his eyes, before I was added to the group, the collection.

It turned and I tried to breath as I watched the 5th camera drag across the room it had entered, it was the collection room, smiling faces all lined up on the walls eyes all trained on the camera as if to say “come join us” in the least inviting way possible. There bodies hung limply like rag dolls from there stands and each one dressed in a fashion that would have been cute in any other situation. It was at the end of the room and with relief I changed cameras, you could ask why I'm not getting ready to fight it, why i sit and watch rather than prepare, why i don't help the screaming people behind me, its because theres nothing to defend with, not a pipe or a stick, its all empty except the bones of one decaying body, and i cant touch it, it screams when I do. I cant save them, there mouths slowly petrifying in there new eternal smiles, there eyes trained on me anytime I move I cant do it. It is only four rooms away.

The small ones asked if she was at least a pretty doll, I told her yes, she said I would be a pretty doll to.

Three rooms left. I like to pretend I don't know them, and sometimes I'm shore I don’t unless I look to closely, thats why I stopped looking.

Two rooms. I looked over the room I was in trying to ignore the monstrosity on the wall, there was only two stands left in the room, one looked cleaner than the others.

H e ‘ s i n t h e o t h e r r o o m. . .

8-5-12-16 20-8-5 16-21-16-16-5-20-19

fiction

About the Creator

Annabelle Drevenstedt

I wish to write well, I wish to convey worlds in words, but wishing isent ink on paper or strokes of a keabord, so I will endeavor to stop wishing, and simply do.

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