Mr. D's Collection of Short Stories

Chapter 1
The Doll

Chapter Description: A couple's evening with their teenage daughter is disrupted by unexpected guests.

I panted as I dashed under the bed. That thing that entered our house was slow, but we didn’t want to give it the chance to catch us. My wife and I split up after we saw our teenage daughter collapse into a pile of clothes after it touched her. We immediately tried calling the police, but neither one of us could get a signal. All we could do now was cower in terror as that doll snickered in childish glee while it tracked us down.

"Come out, come out!" A high-pitched voice sang. I tried to slow my breathing as I heard it pass by this room. For being made of cloth and cotton it had very loud footsteps.

That thing had to pay, but I didn’t know what to do. It would obliterate me with a single touch just as it had done to our Julie, and I didn’t see any signs of vulnerability. I clenched my fists and teeth as the unholy abomination continued down the hall. I hoped that it wouldn’t come into this room, but my wife was in the room across the hall. My gun was in that room, but she didn’t know that I had one and I didn’t dare leave my hiding spot.

It continued to thump past my room. My breathing quickened. I could not let it get Maria. I tensed in preparation to take action.

"What’s behind door number two, I wonder?" the doll’s giggling voice called out.

’Oh no,’ I thought as I rolled out from under the bed and got to my feet. We should have stuck together. I heard Maria scream for help as I bolted to the room where she was hiding.

Maria was cornered, whacking at the doll with a flyswatter she’d picked up off a dresser. "John, do something!" She yelled.

I ran to the closet where I kept the gun. Maria continued to whack at the doll, keeping it from getting any closer. As I emerged from the closet with my firearm, Maria froze in shock, giving the doll an opening.

"Tag," the doll shouted as it poked Maria’s hand. Maria’s eyes widened as my heart sank. In an instant Maria reduced to a pile of clothes just as Julie had earlier this evening. I dropped to my knees, letting go of the gun and despairing as I had lost everything I held dear to me. I prepared to feel the doll’’s touch of death in my final moments.

Something caught my attention as I knelt in what I thought to be my final moments. I saw the doll approach the pile of clothes, ignoring me. as it fished through the garments, pulling out a little baby, less than a year old. Gurgling sounds softly spilled out from the infant who was but minutes ago my wife.

"M-Maria?" my eyes widened. I stared in complete shock. "What did you do to my wife?" I growled at the wretched little imp which had taken mere moments to destroy the life that I had worked for so hard.

The doll giggled before giving a response, "My mommy said I could play with her more if I did some chores!" I stared in disbelief as the toy answered my question. Its lips didn’t move, its walking pace was very slow, and it had just turned my wife, and probably my daughter, into little babies. It gave another chuckle before it continued, "My mommy will be joining us very soon!"

I hated this doll. I hated its carefree attitude, its childish voice. I didn’t care if its owner was on the way or not. Malice burned through my soul as I retrieved my former wife the doll was effortlessly holding, placing her on the bed. "Rot in hell," I said, kicking the doll outside the room and across the hall. Its touch didn’t seem to effect me through my shoes.

The doll’s cries filled my hallway as I turned my attention toward taking out the miserable little whelp. If nothing else, I had to destroy this doll. It ran down the hall, cowering in my presence. I spotted it by Julie’s clothes as my doorbell rang. I dashed at the doll just as it vanished into thin air. It had left Julie on the couch, looking as she had the day she was born. She waved her arms in the air as if to reach out to someone. I was horrified as I looked from Julie to the pile of clothes that wouldn’t even fit her for at least another fifteen years.

The doorbell rang a second and a third time. All I wanted was for this nightmare to be over, to wake up in my bed next to my adult wife. As the doorbell rang once more, I finally got to my feet and walked over to the door to tell off whatever visitor who had dropped by for the night.

I opened the door. The scene that greeted me left me doubting reality itself. I had to be dreaming. "Hello, John."

My first wife was at the door. "Amanda?" I couldn’t believe my eyes. She didn’t look a day older than when she’d died, over ten years ago. "Y-y-you..."

Amanda laughed as her eyes met mine, "Ah yes, I died, didn’t I?"

I was completely dumbstruck. "I have to be dreaming." So many questions filled my head as we both stood there for what seemed to be an eternity.

"No, honey, this is real." Amanda put her hand on my shoulder as she walked past me into the house that we had bought together. "Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed as she spotted Julie on the couch. "I haven’t seen you since the day you were born!" My jaw dropped as I saw my wife pull a diaper from her bag to clothe our daughter.

"Now I know you remarried after that unfortunate event years ago," Amanda began as she perched Julie on her hip. Julie cooed as she was reunited with her real mother, "and she can stay with us, but I am your wife, and you would do well to remember that. I am your only wife and Maria is our daughter now, you will not remember her or mention that she was ever anything more."

"This is a dream... this is all just a dream..." I muttered to myself as Amanda went into Maria’s room, presumably to clothe her too. My world was spinning as I collapsed to the floor. Deep down I was thrilled to see Amanda again, but Maria... she didn’t deserve this. Julie didn’t deserve this.

Rising to my feet I made up my mind that Amanda had to make things right again. I didn’t know what possessed me into thinking this next course of action would resolve this night’s events, but if my deceased wife did this to them then she could probably undo it too.

I exited the open door. The garage was in sight and had exactly what I needed. I’d dropped the gun in the guest room after the doll transformed my wife, but using that gun to threaten my deceased wife just didn’t sit well with me. Upon entering the garage, I opened the garage door, hoping to find something blunt that looked menacing enough to get my point across.

In a corner of the garage was a dust-covered baseball bat that I knew would work perfectly. I picked it up, cleaning it off as I reentered my home. Spotting Julie’s pile of clothes next to the couch, I slowly walked to the room where Amanda held Julie and Maria hostage.

Amanda was sprawled out on the bed, tickling both Julie’s and Maria’s feet as they giggled with infantile joy. I looked at the pair of them, reduced to infants in nothing but diapers in a single evening. My resolve strengthened, I swallowed before confronting Amanda.

"You turn them back this instant!" I shouted at her, causing Maria and Julie to start wailing. I raised the bat over my head as I repeated myself once more.

"Put the bat down, John," Amanda said calmly as she looked up at me. "you’re scaring the children." As our eyes met I felt that maybe I was taking things a little too far, but as I looked away from the specter of my first wife my rage returned.

My breathing deepened. Yes, Julie is our child, but Maria never was. Maria helped me raise our child after Amanda died. At this point I would probably have to re-raise Julie and my former wife, but not with Amanda. Amanda had to go. I raised the bat over my head, "Go back to hell!" I snarled, preparing to take a swing.

Amanda offered me a final, sad look of remorse as if to say she regretted what was going to happen next.

"Tag!" I felt the cloth of a doll touch my bare ankle.