A/N: Hi people. Thanks for reading. This is just a random one shot inspired by a picture I saw once to do with the Doctor Who Exhibition. WARNING: Someone does die in this but it's not a major character and it's not graphic. Don't read this bothers you. Contains OC and the Peg Dolls.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.
Night time. His children were in bed, had been for hours. Oppressively hanging over his head, the thick ominous clouds eclipsed the stars he knew would be behind them. He'd always been fascinated by stars when he was a kid. Now he seldom experienced the excitement and allure that the thought of those stars, so far away and so mysterious, used to evoke in him. Life just went on in an endless cycle of work and sleep and stress and work. So that was why he was walking through the estate in the middle of the night clutching a carrier bag that contained some essentials for the morning. Milk, bread, the like. Nothing exciting. Kicking a coke can out of his way he trudged towards the tower block in the distance, cursing his life, his job, his boss, his…
The squeak of the swing echoed down the street and George stopped in surprise. There was no wind. Cautiously, he edged down the damp path and round the corner. At first he couldn't see anything in the gloom. He crept closer. Then he gasped. For playing on the equipment in a grotesque manner were three life sized dolls. They were battered and hideous. Their string hair was threadbare. Their heads were in some places horribly bald. Their blank faces were too large and the facial features to small. They had painted smiles, rosy cheeks and their eyes were merely primitive holes in their plastered heads. The paint was chipping off. Their clothing was quaint, ragged in places. They were laughing intermittently like playing children. But the laughter was twisted, taunting him.
Slowly, they turned their faces towards him crying with child's voices, his children's voices, "Don't go away we just want to play!" Then they started lumbering towards him, their steps lopsided and uneven. He backed away in horror but the dolls only increased their pace. He stumbled backwards not willing to take his eyes of them until he slammed into a blue box that was standing randomly in the middle of the road. The dolls were advancing menacingly. Coursing through him sheer terror and revulsion mingled unpleasantly with the thoughts of insanity whirling round his head. This couldn't be happening. But they just kept coming closer and closer. Desperately he scrambled with the latch, hoping upon hope that it would open, that he could avoid their stiff hands that were reaching towards him. No such luck.
A/N: Thanks for reading (again – I've already said that haven't I?). Reviews welcome. Also can someone explain to me the rating system – K, T, etc. because I've read the guidelines but am still a bit confused. Thanks.
