Night One: The Doll Room

Naoko entered her mother's old garden that was, at one time, beautiful and bursting with life. She slowly meandered around, and searched everywhere with her flashlight. Suddenly, she heard something; a crack of a branch, resettling of leaves, and then a voice, "Naoko… no, don't come here, Naoko, don't… come here…" She looked up, and remembered every little detail that went on on that dreadful morning four years ago.

-flashback-

Naoko clutched her chest, and ran to her mother's garden. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and she felt very sick. At least she would be safe from her father there…

She unlatched the daisy-like lock, and shut the gate behind her. She sighed, and rubbed her forehead. It felt extremely hot. Out of the corner of her eye she saw blood drip from a cherry-blossom petal. She cocked her head to the side, and turned around, curiously.

Blood was spattered all over her favorite tree, the one she planted herself when she was only three years old. Words had been carelessly carved into it with some type of sharp object, leaving wood chips on the ground under it. Naoko put her finger to her lips, and swiftly ran over to its rough bark. She scraped her fingers along the crooked words, which read "My husband, Please don't hurt Our Children."

Naoko felt a tear well up in her eye, as she slowly backed away from the horrible words. So, he really does want to kill me… she thought, feeling alone, abandoned, sick. She backed into another tree, and slid along it, standing up as straight as she possibly could. She closed her eyes, to try and block out the fear building up inside her body, spreading through every blood cell. About a minute passed, and she opened her gray eyes again, now shining because of her crying. She slowly examined the rest of the garden, and when her eyes wandered over to her mother's beautiful bench, carved with birds carrying long ribbons and daisy petals, she gasped in horror. Her heart froze.

"No."

Naoko covered her mouth in disgust, as her beautiful mother lay on her carved-beautifully bench, covered in blood, both human and object. She heard a voice, in a moaning tone, saying, "I'll warn you, my child… He's coming for you…"

The dead body laid on her back, stomach up, her chest torn open, right where her heart was. Her left eye was completely covered in blood, and on top of it lay a daisy, her mother's favorite flower. Her left arm hung off of the bench, a small dagger the size of a pocket knife in her palm.

Naoko then filled with rage. All of a sudden, she burst out, "Mother!" as loud as she possibly could. Tears streamed down her face, as she became sick again, and kicked the dirt.

Running out of the garden, she ran until she couldn't run any longer.

-End Flashback-

Naoko moved her flashlight around her surroundings. She backed into a tree, specifically the one where her mother had carved those words, which were now crossed out with a rock, forgotten.

A small breeze swept her bangs into her face. She heard a bustle of leaves to her left from behind an oak-wood tree; she shivered, and then froze. Ever so slowly, she took her right arm (holding the flashlight) and moved it silently over to the spot where the noise had come from. She then clutched her shoulders quickly, light still in position, enlightening that once-dark area.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed the tree's bark, almost ripping it all off the tree. A white, pale face then appeared a small girl with shaggy, black hair, and beautiful magenta-colored eyes, tears streaming from them.

Naoko's eyes widened. It was Ichikimi, from the mansion-basement! Naoko now filled with fear. She bolted for the garden gate, and swiftly pushed it open, already being unlocked from when she entered. She then ran on the stone pathway, making little Click!-ing sounds from her shoes.

That little girl, Ichikimi, their old neighbor. A long time ago, she came over to their house, asking if Naoko could play. Unfortunately, Naoko and her mother were out grocery shopping. Miharu was at her daily training sessions. Naoko's father answered a horrible scowl on his face because Naoko had just broken his favorite tape. Instead of saying, "Sorry, Ichikimi, but Naoko is not home," like a good father would have, he replied, "Sure… she is, er, in the basement. You can go down and look for her, there." Once Ichikimi went down into the basement, Naoko's father appeared in the bathroom door, and grabbed Ichikimi, dragging her into the sink. Of course, she drowned, and her body was stuffed into a clothes bin behind the boilers in the laundry room. She was never seen, nor heard from, again.

Naoko ran up the petite flight of stairs to the door of the mansion. "Ah!" she cried, tripping on the top step, gathering dirt, and dust around her face. She coughed, and rubbed her eyes, then shut them tightly, remaining still for that moment on. Her flashlight made a small bouncing noise from the loose light bulb, and then rolled over, shining directly into Naoko's face. Even though her eyes were closed, she squinted harder, trying to block out the bright light.

After about a minute, she opened her eyes, and quickly batted the flashlight away with her palms. She hadn't heard anymore footsteps after she had ran outside of the garden. Maybe she got stuck in the garden, maybe she can't leave. I guaranteed she was the first victim of Father, she thought, sighing in a relieved tone. Then, as silent as a mouse, she lifted her head, and scanned the area with her gray eyes.

Nothing appeared out of normal.

By now, Naoko was breathing heavily. Her heart pounded against her chest, a bead of sweat running down her cheek. She picked up the flashlight, and spun around, casting the flashlight's glow on the ground and trees. Still nothing appeared.

Sighing, heavily again, Naoko stood up, and took one last glance around. She then turned herself back around, and walked to the once nicely polished door. It opened, with an eerie squeak, and shown her flashlight's glow inside. It was darker inside than out, and the glow reflected beautifully on every crack and crevice to be found.

A creaking of the old flooring came from the upstairs. Naoko swallowed, her mouth becoming dry, and shined her flashlight towards the noise. Someone had been up there, she had seen a leg, with dressy lace covering it to the beginning of her shin, maybe hanging from some sort of skirt, or dress.

"H-hello?" Naoko stammered, and started walking up the creaky steps. When she reached the top, she peered, from the railing bars, into the room. The door was halfway open, and several candles were lit inside.

"Uh, hello?" Naoko repeated, sounding braver and louder this time, expecting someone to answer her call. She walked around the wooden railing, and pushed open the door with her foot, shining her flashlight inside. It showed brightly on the glass of a small box.

Appearing to be remembering something, her memories came back over how that door had become bruised and bloody. Her father had been obsessed with women in the weirdest ways, and usually took photos before he killed them. He then posted all of these pictures, nailing the down, on this door with thumbtacks. Sometimes, for some odd reason, he would punch the door, and cry for a moment, then rubbing the blood from his cut fingers on the pictures. Then he would walk away, his head down, and acted as if nothing had ever happened.

Naoko pushed away her fear of going inside, and took a step forward. She stopped and stared at one photo, a picture of some pale woman, with bright yellow eyes, and flowing black hair. Her lips were partly opened, and her clothes seemed to be wet, maybe from the tears pouring from her eyes. Naoko bit her lip, and fully went inside the abandoned room.

Inside, there was a small wooden bookshelf right next to the door, on the left. It was piled with many books, all about odd things, such as the Sixth Sense, a magazine for the nearest restaurant, and a telephone book. There was a two-sided window, fairly small, above a covered table of dolls, located in the middle of the room, against the right wall. Also, there was a door to the left side of the room, at the corner. It appeared to be locked, but she never remembered locking it. There also was a bureau, next to the covered table. On it was a miniature black clock, which appeared to have stopped working a long time ago, because it wasn't moving at all now. It was stuck right on 7:30, nor PM or AM, she couldn't tell.

She walked over to the small box the light had shown on brightly, and examined it thoroughly. Small daises and leaves were engraved on its wood, and sturdy tree placed on the right side, stretching from the top corner to the bottom one. She quickly realized it was her mother's jewelry box.

Opening the lid, Naoko saw the small daisy charm spin, singing to a soft lullaby her mother used to sing when she had trouble sleeping. She smiled a happy memory she wouldn't forget. As she hummed along with the soft lull, Naoko examined the little oak box, seeing a photo, a couple gold rings her mother used to wear, and a beautiful necklace. She took up both of these items, (the photo and necklace) and scanned their bruises and cracks. The necklace shined as beautifully as it was in the candles' light.

Next, she examined the old photograph. It wasn't very clear, sort of blurry, just from the candlelight, so she held up the photo in her flashlight. It showed her mother, when she had been alive and healthy.

Her long black hair waved in the breeze. Her bright green eyes lit her surroundings like magic, it seemed. She had a tender, sweet smile on her face that Naoko had always loved. It's… really a shame she had to die like she did… Naoko thought, and cocked her head to the side in dismay. But something was in the background.

Naoko studied it very hard, and then realized what it was. Behind the door, stood a fairly tall man, dressed in all white, from head to toe. Naoko, at first, figured this was her father, because of the scowl the male had on his face. But the man had a reddish tint to his hair, while his father was simply a brunette. She knew this was her so-called "Uncle," who despised everyone and everything around him.

"Uncle Hachiro…" Naoko whispered very softly, the moon shining on her face from the diminutive window. She glanced over at her dolls her father made. He was an excellent crafter; he's the one who made her mother's bench.

Her favorite doll, Aya, named after Ichikimi's pet cat, moved its arm up in the light automatically, nothing helping it. It had cast a shadow on Naoko's face, making the gleam in her eye fade. She dropped the photo, stuck the pendant in her back pocket, and walked over to the doll collection.

The candles that were left unlit suddenly brightened up. Naoko shivered with fear, again, and was hoping it was all just her imagination. She shut her eyes tightly, and rocked back and forth, hoping everything would just disappear. But when she opened up her eyes again, everything was still there. But one thing had changed.

The change was that all the dolls', sixteen heads, were facing her. All thirty-two eyes blinked, as Naoko, breathless, just stared at their movement. Aya opened her small, porcelain mouth, and Naoko's ears flinched from the horrible sound from the doll. Aya called out loud mews from some cat, particularly because she was indeed named after a kitten.

Blood then spilled from the doll's mouth after the long cry. Naoko could hear shuffling from inside the closet door, but didn't care at this moment. She just stared at what was happening in front of her face. After the doll finished its long cry, Naoko watched all the blood pour from the table's cloth, covering her mouth with her hands in disgust.

The shuffling got louder, and Naoko looked at the door instead of looking at the blood. The gold doorknob turned, slowly at first, and then it sped up, and finally opened a crack. She stiffened. Out stepped a very pale woman with the bare legs. Indeed, she was wearing a beautiful gown, white, with pale pink lace at the bottom of the rim. But her head was nearly off her head, hanging down, only hanging on by her shoulder, and a very thin black thread. It looked as if she had tried to sew it back on herself, but utterly failed.

She groaned, and walked completely out of the closet. The door automatically slammed shut, and seemed to lock by itself, or that something (or somebody) else had been in there with her. "Why?! …Why why why…?" the woman called out, and started walking toward Naoko. But the figure simply walked past Naoko, heading toward the clothed table of dolls.

As she walked past, Naoko noticed that the figure's left index finger was torn off. The woman stopped over where Aya was, and took up the doll in her palms, looking it straight in the eyes. The pale woman then shook Aya very violently, knocking the ceramic doll off the cloth-covered table. She heard a crack, something breaking.

Naoko watched in horror as Aya, lying on her side with a crack going up the middle of her face, facing Naoko, along with the blood, spit up the index finger of the woman. "Why?! …Why why wwhhyy…?" She slowly whispered the last why, and then repeated it all again. She then took up the finger in her grasp.

Naoko felt the urge to vomit, but instead covered her mouth and ran out of the room. She turned and ran down the steps to her backyard porch, and stopped. As she stopped, she heard the closet door unlock, open, and then close again; meaning the pale woman had made it back into the closet. Naoko rounded the steps' railing to the left, and ran into the kitchen wall. There, sitting at the dining table, face down, sat some sort of sales woman. Her eyes were going this way and that, and her tongue hung out. She flinched, and moved her head toward Naoko.

"Drink…?" she said, and held up a glass with blue liquid in it. It had particles of some white materials floating in the bottom, making it look like someone back-washed into it. Naoko recognized the fluid; it was poison!

"Drink…" she repeated, only in a tone that sounded imperative. The glass dropped to the floor, shattering it to pieces. The liquid spread around her feet, as Naoko shook her head. "No! Go away!"

She ran, ran out of the kitchen and came to the door to the porch. She grabbed the wooden handle, and tugged. The door swung open on its rusty, old hinges, as Naoko ran to the railing. Once the door was shut, she gasped for breath, and closed her eyes tightly. The flashlight had been tucked away in her pocket, and she quickly brought it out now, fumbling with her finger for a moment. She sat back against the wall next to the door, under the window, and sighed.

"The horrors in this mansion…" she opened her eyes, "I never knew something this dreadful could come true," Naoko whispered.