Holy craparoni peoples O-O
It's...uh...great to be back? Eheh, honestly, I'm totally at a lost as to what to say. I kept thinking that I'd make this great, fantastical comeback and be all "RAWR BETCHES! M'BAAAAACK!!!" and everyone would totally be all "YAAAAAYYY!!!"
But really...I don't have anything profound to say except...um...hi? I guess that works. Hi everyone. (shyeah, that totally works...)
Aaaaaanyways, here's a little something I wrote to see how rusty I am at this kinda thing. Hopefully feedback will help me tons in getting back confidence in my ability to write fanfiction (although this isn't really a good example of fanfiction...unless being a fan of the song counts o.o)
Yes, this short oneshot is based off of a song by Jonathan Coulton, entitled 'Creepy Doll'. I love Jonathan Coulton's songs and this one really sticks out because it isn't just a song...it's a story! A mystery/horror story too! WEEEEE!
So, I wrote out the story that I think the song tells. If you wanna know more about the song, then look it up, lazy butt!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ROXAS (whom I borrowed from Kingdom Hearts) NOR DO I OWN THE SONG 'CREEPY DOLL'!!!!
Um....yeah, read and enjoy (and hopefully review!)
Secluded away from the rest of the world sat a quiet little town. Little worth noting ever happened within its empty streets, the residents the silent, minding their own business type. Surrounding the town was an endless throng of trees, as if the towering foliage were further distancing the town from the outside that most of those living there hardly knew much about.
It was places like this that drew city-going folk, such as Roxas.
Having grown and made his living amongst bustling, crowded streets and the hazards of drivers itching to speed through traffic clogged highways, towering buildings and way too many polluting fumes, he naturally was drawn to places that were the opposite of what he knew.
Finding the small town to be somewhat of a bore, he made his way several times through the short, impossible to be lost on streets through visits for four or so summers before he decided it would be nice to have a permanent place there.
On one of his many misadventures, he'd come across an old, withered mansion through a rarely used, overgrown path through the woods and up a gently rounding hill. He supposed no one had lived there for a long while, as the paint was chipped in places, the front gate bent slightly and some windows were even boarded up.
Figuring that was as perfect a place as any, Roxas returned to the city to procure the money he'd need to purchase the old property. Strangely, it was far cheaper than he'd suspected. Then again, it had been empty for a great while…hadn't it?
The day he moved his boxes in, he spent most of the afternoon unpacking essentials, discovering small hidden passageways and dusty old rooms in the house, deeming it livable save for being full of stale air and cobwebs. After getting bored with unpacking, he decided to clean up a little, and that took up the rest of the day.
Once night fell, he settled down to eat his instant mac n' cheese, nodding to himself as he stared up at the chipped ceiling paint. "This place is pretty awesome." He said to no one, finishing his light dinner and getting ready for bed.
--
Having found it difficult to sleep, Roxas had stayed up to finish unpacking his clothes and such in the bedroom he'd chosen for his own, the windows darkened with the curtains pulled closed over the night. As he pushed aside another empty box, the blond paused as he heard something scampering around above his head.
Glancing up, he slowly got to his feet, straining to listen in case the noise repeated and was greeted with only silence.
"Great…if there are rats in this place, I'm going to have to get rid of them." He muttered, raking a hand through his messy, golden spikes, blue eyes narrowing as he grabbed a flashlight and left his bedroom, heading for the creaking staircase that led upstairs, shining the beam of light on the steps in front of him. When he reached the top, there was no hallway, simply a lone door, looming over him.
He found himself suddenly feeling uneasy and took a deep breath to steady himself, reaching out and grasping the doorknob, using a bit of extra effort to crack it open and shined the light in first.
There wasn't much in the room, almost attic sized. A few dusty trunks in the corners and right against the far wall a mannequin dressed in an old, tattered dress that was frayed at the hem of the skirt. Seeing the gown sent a strange sense of recognition through him and Roxas shook his head to rid himself of it.
After checking through the small room, he found no rats or other vermin. No sign there even was any. Gripping his flashlight tighter, he huffed and turned to walk back downstairs, suddenly coming face to face with the porcelain, painted face of a doll perched on an old shelf next to the door.
It was roughly a foot tall, sitting so incongruously on the top shelf, wearing a little slip of a white dress that was smudged with dust like everything else in the house, pale, wispy hair hanging over its shoulder. One eye seemed to be broken, remaining open and staring straight at Roxas, the blond feeling the stare go straight through him. Its painted little mouth seemed to stretch a bit wider in an unnerving smile and Roxas swore it blinked.
Screaming like a little girl, the blond darted out of the room and slammed the door shut hard, running and stumbling down the stairs all the way back to his bedroom, where he shut and locked that door and sat on the end of his bed, panting and rubbing his face.
He calmed down some and lay back, staring at the ceiling. "That…was a weird dream…" he mumbled, mind sort of hazy as he closed his eyes and fell asleep finally.
--
The sun rose and shone brightly over the house as Roxas stepped out onto the porch, locking the front door behind him and whistling casually as he headed down the grass grown path leading down the drive and through the woods into town. He'd decided that the best way to get the night before off his mind was distraction. So, driven to distract himself, he made his way down Main Street, searching for an antique store and smiled when he found one, walking through the front glass door and hearing a small bell chime to alert a customer.
Cluttered with shelves and displays, the small store was crammed full of knick knacks, old jewelry, period clothes, the works. Even antique dolls.
Carefully avoiding that section of the store, Roxas turned and jumped a bit when he found himself suddenly face to face with the store's owner. Well, not quite face to face, as the ancient looking man was bent nearly double, small glasses perched on a pointy nose and seeming to not do much for the glazed over eyes that seemed to strain to see the blond. As he watched, one eye started to list lazily to the left.
"You've been expected." He rasped, making Roxas frown. He hadn't been in town long enough to make friends with anyone…sure, he'd visited before, but he'd definitely remember if he'd met this man before.
Finding the old man strange, but harmless, Roxas introduced himself, reaching out for a handshake and almost stepping back when the old man placed a withered husk that must've once been a hand in Roxas' own. Making the contact brief as possible without coming across as rude, he stepped back and looked around the store again.
"It's a nice collection you have here, I was just browsing." He said conversationally.
The old man shook his head, shuffling away to the front counter, reaching underneath to pull out a box made of aged wood, a small lock clasped on the front. It was roughly a foot or so long, maybe a bit more and only a few inches wide, probably a case for something.
Roxas watched as the man came back over, handing him the box along with a tarnished key that gleamed silver in some spots. "It's been waiting for you."
"What—'' he paused his question when he looked closer at the key, seeing through the tarnish that someone, maybe the old man, had carved his name into the metal.
Staring at the old man strangely as his wrinkled face crinkled even more as he smiled, showing broken teeth, Roxas decided it was beyond time to go. "Uh…I-I'm late for something important, have a nice day." He started to hand the box back but the old man waved his withered hand, the curled fingers looking like broken sticks.
"It's been waiting. Just for you."
Glancing down at the box again, Roxas grimaced and shook his head. "Well, I don't want it so…" his words trailed off as he looked up and saw that the old man had disappeared.
Looking around the empty store, the blond quickly backed towards the exit, beyond ready to run home and lock himself away from this town and the crazy people residing in it.
Just as he was about to push open the glass door, he paused as he stared, wide-eyed, at the reflection of the doll from the night before hovering over his shoulder. Tensing with a quick inhale, he whirled around…and saw nothing.
What's a guy to do in a situation like that?
Running's good.
--
After several days of staying out late, getting to know locals and shopping around town and seeing the doll…or thinking that he saw the doll everywhere he went, Roxas was just about to scream.
It haunted him, that disconcerting, painted little smile, the way its broken eye was always open and staring through to his soul, silently laughing at him as if it was all a big joke seeing him so jittery and scared. He'd even tried to get those around him to see it, but they only laughed.
However, he never screamed after the initial sight of the doll. Instead, he'd done his absolute best to ignore that it was even there at all.
One night, he'd come home in the early morning hours, gone to the kitchen and made himself a small sandwich for a snack. He wasn't even surprised when he looked to the side and saw the doll perched on the end of the counter, staring him down with that wide, unearthly blue eye, its wispy hair seeming to float around it as it swung its legs in the air and hummed.
"Would you make me one, too?" it asked in a whispery, haunting voice that seemed to come from inside his head.
What did one do when a figment of their imagination asks for a snack?
You make it one.
So Roxas did and left the sandwich on the counter, leaving the kitchen and going up the stairs, the doll appearing on the steps, watching as he stepped over it and continued on up. He reached the top and started down the hall, opening the door to his room and groaning as he saw the doll now sitting against his pillow, its painted mouth stretching a bit wider.
"You're not real! I'm just insane! This place is driving me insane!" Roxas shouted, slamming the door and running back downstairs and out the door to sleep outside.
--
Roxas couldn't accept that he was crazy.
Someone else HAD to see the doll…it was everywhere! He saw it following him, reflected in windows, standing across the street, sitting on tables in restaurants, even perching daintily on the bumpers of cars that drove past him, sometimes even waving at him with that unnerving little smile.
Everyone he begged to look had by now learned to ignore him, thinking him the 'crazy greenhorn come from the city'.
Sighing, Roxas began to wonder if it was even worth the effort anymore.
--
That night, he found that he couldn't sleep, tossing around in bed, images of the doll's eye and fleeting nightmares of it opening its mouth wide as if to gobble him up kept him awake.
Sighing, he threw back the covers and headed downstairs to make himself some tea to calm his nerves and, hopefully, help him rest a little.
He waited for the water to boil in the kettle, pouring it into his mug and adding the teabag. Once he had that done, he pulled out the honey and started to add drop after drop after drop, almost mesmerized by the action, mixing it in.
"Are you sure you really need THAT much honey?" the doll asked in a disapproving tone from where it now sat on his shoulder.
Tensing up, Roxas dropped the spoon, knocking the mug to the floor and faintly hearing it shatter on impact.
"You know what?! I'm SICK of you! You and your little games!" He snapped, grabbing the doll in both hands and running to a small study on the ground floor where he'd stashed that box the old man had given him.
Unlocking it and stuffing the doll inside, he twisted the key to lock it again and ran over to the fireplace, throwing the wooden box in there and grabbing a matchbook. Striking one, he watched it flare to life before glaring down at the silent, foreboding looking piece of junk. With a contemptuous huff, he flicked the match at it and watched as the flames began to slowly lick up the sides with a crackle.
As the box burned, he coughed lightly, suddenly finding it hard to see through a strange, foggy haze. Waving his hand around as if to clear it out of the way, his eyes began to water from the sting. The room suddenly seemed so much smaller than before, the walls so close he could reach out and touch them.
The fog grew thicker, the room growing hotter and the air difficult to breathe, making the blond cough again. He glanced to the fireplace, eyed going wide as he saw the front of the box burn away, showing the doll inside…
That looked exactly like him.
Coughing harder, disbelief filling him, he felt compelled to look up at the ceiling, seeing that it had disappeared and through it he saw a giant's face peering down at him, only able to make out one blue eye, light-colored, wispy hair, a scrap of white dress and a broad, uncanny smile.
And then he screamed as the fire broke through the wood and engulfed him.
I just now realized that I've burned Roxas in a tiny room twice now in my fanfiction writing career o.o -shakes head- le sigh.
Anyhoodles, there you have it. I hope you liked it at least a little, and if anyone is curious (not that anyone really IS) about where I've been and what I've been up to, then either check out my profile page (which DOES have updated material on it) or follow the note I left on there that says to visit my LJ (there's a link to it in my profile)
Lufflies!
-Ramen
P.S. I'll try updating Looking for Trouble as my next step! We'll see!
