|
In the
Baudy House
The smell
was all around Amber as she got on her knees and crawled partway inside
once more. Where the pin had lain, the bottom of the cabinet has slid
away to reveal an opening similar to the one in her wardrobe. Another
doll! Excited, she reached inside and, sure enough, her hand touched
cloth. One, no, two dolls! They were stacked on top of each other. As
she pulled them out, the opening smoothly slid shut.
The lavender
scent had faded away to nothing, but she barely noticed as she peered at
the top doll. It was a bearded male, dressed all in black, and it's
expression was so vicious that she quickly laid it on the counter. It
held a tiny multi-tipped whip in one hand.
After
placing it carefully on the table near the laundry basket, Amber studied
the other doll. It wore some sort of navy uniform, was also male, but
had no head. Cautiously, she touched the ancient dark stain that marred
the doll's neck and the front of the uniform, and it flaked off in her
hand. It looked like dark rust. Or dried blood.
The thought
startled her, and she let the doll slip from her grasp. Idiot!
she thought as it tumbled, as if in slow motion, toward the floor. She
swooped to catch it, but too late. The shattered porcelain sounded like
windchimes in the distance.
"Damn!"
God, I'm such a klutz! She squatted and put her hand around it,
hesitating as she felt something sticky and warm coat her fingers.
Fighting back a rush of panic, she lifted the headless doll, revealing a
small crimson puddle beneath it. "Oh, God." Paralyzed by shock, she
watched hot, thick fluid drip off her fingers.
As she
stared at the broken doll, its uniform grew dark and damp. Blood!
It looked like blood, but it couldn't be. Maintain! she ordered
herself as her hands began to tremble. Maintain! No, it couldn't
be blood. The twisted girl, Christabel, must have filled the doll with
something resembling blood . . . She must have done it for the shock
value. Real blood would have dried up after all these years, it would be
nothing but a clump of dark redness.
Revulsion
crawled up her throat, she forced herself to lift one of the china
hands. Red fluid oozed sluggishly from a crack across the palm. As she
gingerly examined it, half the hand suddenly snapped off. Blood spurted
from the opening, spraying hotly across Amber's face, her cheeks, her
nose, and into her mouth.
She heard
someone screaming as she hurled the doll across the room. It splatted
against the white wall, then slid slowly down to the floor, leaving a
broad bloody streak behind it.
Suddenly,
she realized she was the one screaming. She put her hands to her mouth,
then saw the blood and pulled them back, staring at them in shock, still
screaming, vaguely tasting the unmistakable metal tang of blood in her
mouth.
"Amber!
Amber, where are you?" Dimly, she heard her father calling her.
"DADDY!" |
