Warning! Very bloody, and gory, and partly sensored swearing! You should probably not read this if you are under thirteen, because I’m twelve, and I kinda freaked myself. It’s not my fault if you’re deathly afraid of dollhouses after this. I warned you!
Okay, I’m gonna try my hand at horror here, so please do not kill me if it sucks. I am absolutely terrible at horror, and gory stuff, so…..
I stepped closer, closer. It was time to face my fear. Ever since I had seen that face in my doll house when I was six, I hadn’t gone near the thing. Now, on my thirteenth birthday, I was gonna try again.
First, let me take you back. Baby Zoey, born to Trouble Kelp, and Minerva Kelp. Since my birth, I had had very strange things happen to me. First birthday, I fall in my cake, and light my hair on fire, but it is put out by all of the frosting surrounding it. Second birthday, I get a baby doll that makes faces when you twist it’s arm. I woke up in the middle of the night, and the face is cross-eyed, and grinning evilly towards me. Third birthday, the bathroom mirror shatters in my face. Fourth birthday, I get my arm run over by bikers. But all of that is a different story. The next two are what really counts.
Fifth birthday, I receive a dollhouse built for me by my dad. It looked exactly like my house, though. This birthday, nothing tragic happens. Except that dollhouse. Sixth birthday, I’m playing in my dollhouse, and I see the legs of a doll I had never seen before sticking out of the second floor balcony. I look into the dollhouse, and the face is so detailed, it looks almost like a shrunken person. I look closer, and the face is smirking coldly, heartlessly. It’s dressed all in black. It’s holding a gun. Pointed at me. I screamed, and ran to my room. I haven’t looked in that dollhouse since. I also never told anyone. They would think I was crazy.
So now, on my thirteenth birthday, I was going to prove to myself that I had imagined it. I stepped closer, closer. I was on the second floor of my house, walking towards the balcony doors, where the dollhouse stood right beside. I look into the second floor of the mini house. Nothing. I breathe out, and turn. For the last time. Standing behind me is a man. Dressed all in black. Holding a gun. Pointed at me. But he wasn’t going to use it, oh no.
The man from my nightmares stuck a needle in my vein, and pulled it out a few seconds later. I felt weaker than I ever had. I then saw the blue sparks dancing in the syringe. I, unable to move from shock, was helpless as he placed a jagged edged knife against my wrist. Blood trickled to the floor. He brought the knife up, and back down again hard.
I felt my world going black as I stared at the gushing stump that used to be my hand. But he wouldn’t let it be. He took out a modified buzz baton, and zapped me, waking me up. I screamed out as he did the other wrist. I tried to stop him, tried to hit him with my slightly shortened arms, tried to kick him, but cutting off my hands had paralyzed my arms. My feet just wouldn’t move, either.
I heard him whisper a few word as he cut off my legs up to the knee. “The ears go last so the last thing you hear is your own agony.”
Blood spurted, and flowed from everywhere, bits of red, and purple tissue flying up in my face, and onto the floor.
I writhed in pain, where I could still move. I tried to hold in the screams. I wouldn’t let him win. It finally became too much.
A high pitched, bloodcurdling shriek escaped my lips, startling me, realizing it was my own.
He stabbed me in the left lung, then the right. I shrieked until I couldn’t breathe anymore from my ruptured lungs. I managed one word before he cut off my ears, and I took my last, raspy breath. “Bit**.”
“Farewell, my lady,” my dollhouse freak whipered cruelly, then the life ripped from me as my unsevered piece of body collapsed to the floor.
So? How was I? I hope that wasn’t too gory. I thought it was scary, but I don’t know. I personally think that I should never try to write like this again, because I thought it was horrible, but, again, I don’t know. So, please R&R!