Introduction/Pre-Story Commentary: Hey guys, I decided I'd rewrite this chapter and change a few things. First of all, I wanted to add a little more description, and secondly, divide it from the original Tails Doll mythos, so I removed the SCHLURPY, much to the chagrin of a few of you, I'm sure (here's looking at you, choco aardvark) :P I decided to give Tails Doll a little more personality, like I roleplay him but with a few (understatement :P) differences. Of course, you won't get to see what he's fully like until later. Mmm, suspense. I'm also completely rewriting the rest of the fic to add detail, small hints to later chapters, removing or changing alchemic references etc. Hopefully I'll get at least one chapter rewritten per day, so the whole process should take about a week. Don't expect new chapters to be up so quickly, though. :P
Finally, the description of the mansion here is a little different to the one in Soliloquy. I've tried to keep them sort of the same, but as this is only a small part of the mansion, you won't get to see the full thing until later.
From now on, all review replies and author's commentary will be at the end of each chapter, as Post-Chapter Commentary and Review Reponses/Answers to Reviews from original document. Enjoy.
It was late at night and the moon was high in the jet-black sky. The streets were silent, but for the approaching steps of three teenagers, wandering the streets searching for something to do at this hour.
Presently, they came to the gates of an old mansion. It was obviously abandoned, as the panels were peeling off of it, and the tiles had long disappeared or been consumed by growing vines, so that the skeletal frame remained, jutting out into the sky oddly like some sort of blade. A few crows circled around in the sky, as if not daring to touch the property. Some wandered around nearby on the streets, eying the youths with cold eyes. If one would count them, their number would come to eleven, but their sable forms were difficult to see against the night, and the eerie atmosphere about the house seemed to draw attention from all else. Such things one would not see unless they were specifically looking for them.
One of the teenagers whistled as he looked up at the dilapidated building, surveying it with derision in his eyes. "Look at that, the place is a wreck! Why don't they just knock it down? It's an eyesore, I'm telling you."
"I've heard stories…horrible stories about that place." Piped up another of the group, shuddering.
"Stereotypical haunted mansion story? That's all a load of trash." Snorted a third with contempt.
"Not so stereotypical. Apparently a possessed puppet haunts the house…anyone who goes in never comes back out." Replied the second.
"Sure, sure. Whatever." He almost laughed at the prospect – of all the urban legends this one seemed the most inane.
The first had now taken great interest in this argument and issued a challenge. "Oh yeah? Well then, prove it!"
The third one laughed at how clichéd the situation was. "Okay, fine! I'll do it!" he grinned. After all, what was there to fear?
He opened the cast-iron gate with a deafening screech, the sound of one not opened for a long time. A cockroach crawled past his feet and he recoiled, but continued on the twisted path towards the front door. As he turned the knob on the bright orange door and entered the house, he felt, only for a fleeting moment, as if he was being watched…
There was silence. Many people have never felt true silence, the complete absence of all sound anywhere. It is enough to drive feelings of utter loneliness into the head and eventually cause insanity. For this adolescent, it was unnerving, but he shook off the feeling and consoled himself with further footsteps, resonating through the halls as the only sound in the world.
The house was literally falling to pieces; the wallpaper was peeling off the walls, and there were bugs everywhere – he was nauseated as he watched a whole convoy of insects spiral across the floor and pass into a crack in the wall, kicking up dust as they went.
The boy slowly walked through the house. The silence was getting too much now, and a feeling in the bottom of his stomach told him he should turn back…the house was huge, he could easily get lost, and he felt he could never find his way out.
He was shocked but calmed at the same time to hear a faint sound enter his ears…it seemed to be some sort of…music?
He walked towards the noise.
The music was obviously supposed to be a happy song, but it had been warped and distorted to a state where it was almost impossible to listen to. The lyrics were unforgettable, the ones that get stuck in your head and repeat over…and over…Can you feel the sunshine… The music led to a room just down the hall with a closed door…he opened the door and entered, not noticing the sudden chill that had now consumed everything.
Bizarre arcane patterns and symbols were daubed on the walls in what appeared to be blood. The boy was overcome with the need to be sick, as the sight greatly disturbed him, but he remembered what he had promised to do, and with that desire to appear tough that all boys have, he continued to survey the room.
It was fairly small and empty, except for an old tape deck in the corner playing that horrible tune…and something else…
It appeared to be a floating doll, modelled in the shape of some sort of twin-tailed cartoon fox. The stitching on it was obvious, there was, bizarrely, some sort of zipper on the back and the features were overly exaggerated, giving a feeling not of cuteness, but of trauma and nightmares. The illusion was made complete by a huge red gem attached to its head which glowed iridescently with a light unnatural.
The doll turned around to face the boy, and stared at him with cold, soulless eyes of felt. Although he knew it couldn't be possible, there appeared to be a look behind those eyes, a look of hatred.
He flinched as a voice entered his head…it was a cold, dry voice, the voice of something that should not be alive…it spoke in an almost-mocking tone that was somehow soothing, but behind it he could also hear the screaming of a thousand different voices.
Ah, a visitor. Welcome to my abode. It isn't much, but it does the job, yes?
The teenager laughed. Of course, it was all a big joke. Very funny, guys, now get me out of here, he thought.
However, the floating doll still stared at him, expecting some sort of response. Receiving none, the gem on its head drooped slightly, not out of disappointment, but of readiness.
I trust you will stay a while. You're just in time for dinner, you know.
The boy laughed again. This was just too stupid. How could-
What's so funny?
"Uh…nothing…so, what are we eating?"
Oh, I apologise most profusely. You misinterpret me. It is only I who will be eating.
The boy gasped as some force he could not see grabbed his head and pulled him down to the floor. As he tried to look up at the doll that was no doubt about to kill him, he caught a glimpse of a glowing red light and some sort of tendrils reaching out towards him.
At once, all was pain.
A scream filled the air and punctured the silence; the teens knew it as the voice of their friend.
Rushing into the house, they came upon the room…their friend lay dead on the floor, blood oozing from his eyes, which had rolled back into his head. A look of horror was frozen on his face, but the cause of death was uncertain. In fact, it appeared that whatever had happened to the rest of his body, which was horribly disfigured and mutilated such that blood and gore stained all the walls and floors of the room, had by some miracle – or perhaps a cruel joke – avoided his face completely, which was perfectly preserved in that dead stare.
Lying on the floor, right in the middle of the room, was a large, lifeless doll. The crystal on its head glowed oddly…and in the corner of the room, a tape deck played an incredibly distorted tune…but the lyrics were ever so clear…
Can you feel the sunshine?
Does it brighten up your day?
Don't you feel that sometimes, you just need to run away?