The sky above the port was the color of television, turned to a dead channel. Waves smashed against the wood, the water transcending its boundaries and sloshing into the small boat which was slowly making its way across the dark sea. Huddled under layers of clothing, two figures sat silently as the boat neared the tiny island. It had been a dare, a stupid dare. George looked across the boat at Evelyn, feigning aplomb and attempting to look much braver than he felt. It wasn't working.
Rickety and unstable, the dock swayed slightly as they walked along in the cold night air. The umbrage surrounding the path was eerily silent and caused an unexpected hiatus from the crashing of waves against rocky shore. No amount of moonlight could permeate the thick foliage. Their journey would be in total darkness.
They reached an old house that looked as if it had stood on this hill, lying in decadence for more than a few millennia. It seemed to be the epitome of creepy dwellings and neither one wished to infringe on the boundaries the creaky wooden door had set for them. Evelyn looked up at her friend with meritorious bravery and turned the knob, allowing the door to open with a hackneyed squeak, characteristic of an old horror movie. The front of the house had given more than an innuendo as to what the inside looked like.
Though they appeared to be the only ones there, both George and Evelyn felt as if there were some occult presence in the old house. The rules of the dare had been quite stringent and more than crystal clear: spend one night in the house. Do not leave. It seemed like a silly thing to do for a mark of approbation.
From the upper floor came a scratching sound that made Evelyn's blood run cold.
"You heard that too, right?"
Even in the faint light she saw him nod.
Once the home of a wealthy couple, both Evelyn and George had a nagging feeling this house now belonged to an interloper. Gingerly, they took a few steps up the stairs and, upon seeing nothing there, decided to have a look around. What they found was the lurid face of a seemingly demonic life-sized doll. In an attempt to assuage her scream, Evelyn clasped her hands over her mouth. Eyes, soulless, black and cold, stared back at her. She blinked. Upon opening her eyes, the ghastly china doll was gone.
"How-" Evelyn began but she was cut off by George who was tapping her shoulder insistently.
She turned to find four more of the pale dolls. Crude in appearance, these dolls seemed to be intrinsic playthings of some supernatural power. Neither one had any desire to complete the dare now. Needless to say, their exit was a little more than precipitate.