Chapter 25: The Doll Factory
The girls walked alone on a rocky mountain path with Grace holding the golden key carefully, knowing they would be using it for the next part of the game ahead. Looking around the dark atmosphere, the twisted gnarled trees appeared to have plastic and wooden objects attached by strings, tied to the branches. Many of them resembled arms and legs while the other trees further up ahead had complete wooden figurines hovering above ground, with strings attached…faceless puppets.
"I think I'm starting to get it now," Grace finally spoke from a long moment of dead silence.
"What is that my dear Grace?" Mrs. Calloway implied, resisting the urge to look back on those puppet trees they had passed by.
"All this time, many of the monsters we've faced and encountered resembles everything we fear. I could be afraid of spiders or bats, Calloway could be afraid of clowns, and Maggie could be afraid of snakes or rats. Just like the Monarch Butterfly was talking about; Willie knows what we're all afraid of by now and we should be ready for it, but not by letting him bring us down with our worst fear."
"Honestly who wouldn't find those bizarre, painted faced buffoons horrifying with their big red noses, awful smiles, and enormous shoes?" Mrs. C admitted. "I never told anybody about it for reasons that were my own. Everyone on the farm looks up to me and expects me to be the one in saying everything will be alright. None of them think I could ever be afraid of anything silly or childish." She sighed shamefully.
"I don't think any differently of you Mrs. C," Grace assured. "Everybody is afraid of something and there's nothing wrong with that. Even if they all knew, I'm certain they would understand if we explain it to them."
"We will Grace," said Mrs. C. "When I'm ready to explain my clown phobia to them, I will…at my own time."
"Just like I'll wait till I'm all set to take on the final level of the game," Maggie said boldly. "And look what we got here."
Perched on top of a rock face was something the girls did not expect to see. Placed before them was an out-of-place building which looked like a mansion of some sorts, only it was decorated and painted ultra-bright in various colors of the rainbow. Creepier puppet trees awaited them, marking the trail that lead to the pink gates with a gold lock in the center. That was where they needed to insert the gold key. Grace, being the curious and naïve type had been drawn towards the welcoming sight of the building. But this sudden urge felt like a reminder to stay alert on what might appear innocent at first sight. What lay hidden inside would not be welcoming or innocent.
"Why'd you keep me waitin' here?" spoke a malevolent voice.
The girls flinched suddenly, Grace nearly dropping the gold key. Turning around, finding Willie leaning against the closest puppet tree, arms crossed patiently.
"I reckon by now ya'll know somethin' that yah think I wouldn't know?" He said mockingly.
Maggie rolled her eyes, "We don't know what you're talking about. Nor do we care. You can scare us all you want with threats and fierce insults, but we're not as weak or low as you like to believe."
Willie could only smirk as he inspected his talisman, "Maybe not. But every task you've completed ain't nothin' more than a warm up compared to what you'll be findin' next." He cut the strings off one of the puppets, snatched it in his hands and made a giant leap toward the gates. "I recall a tale Ma and Pa used to tell us younglings' bout a land where toys come to life and childhood innocence stays with us forever, a land where you never could grow up and be whatever you dreamed of."
"Neverland?" Grace guessed.
"No, that's Peter Pan!" Willie snapped. "I'm talkin' about the doll factory, right behind these here gates." He then started to slowly walk around the girls, looking as if he were admiring the puppet like it was worth a fortune. "For all that leave the mortal world behind, you'll find lots o' fun and games in the land of the dolls where everyone o' them tykes knows the others names. The doll maker gives life to all his creations with a wave of his wand. Without it, this factory would be in ruins and his toys would lose the magic. Adventures await for the young at heart that once inside, you'll never want to leave. There are no rules, no school, and no parents to grieve your disappearance. The toys will be happy to welcome ya'll with love n' hugs, forever."
He vanished within a second, leaving his cackle behind to last for several seconds. The girls remained unfearful of his disappearance, seeing it as a way to break their wills. That was not going to happen anytime soon.
"Never mind him you two," Mrs. Calloway insisted, "Let's get inside before the hour glass empties."
"I wonder how much time we have left," Maggie said, attempting not to give Willie any satisfaction by showing any fear. "Not less than a day I hope."
Grace unlocked the gate with the gold key, turning it once and ignored the eeriness of the wind blowing lightly against the creepy puppet trees. Once inside, the gates locked themselves as usual to prevent any escape. Rather than cringe at this, the girls instead took turns stepping into a gold fountain to regain their lost strength from the last battle, to prepare for what waited inside.
"Wait, do you hear that?" Grace said, turning her head around, "It sounds like a merry go round."
"I don't see anything out here," Maggie replied, looking around the front yard littered with play blocks and doll heads. "Nothing but broken, junk toys."
"That's because it's coming from inside," Mrs. Calloway pointed to the entrance doors. "And it has another gold lock, so hold on to that key Grace. If we're in for a room or a hallway with other locked doors, we stand no chance without it."
"I hope this isn't another maze to get trapped in," Maggie moaned. "But let's do this. I'm not in the mood to encounter a sweet ghost girl who may be pure evil out here. Those types can't be trusted."
"What about the girl from the school who lost her dolly?" Grace inquired. "She trusted us."
"That's different. We were lucky we had what she needed."
The door then opened up slowly. The girls backed up cautiously, having now learned from experience that the greatest fear in this deadly game of cat and mouse is fear of the unknown. The gears sounded as if they were a century old.
"Who goes in first?" Maggie hesitated, reluctant to move a foot forward.
"Hello," Grace called into the empty hallway. The only reply given was the echo trailing off into the distance. Nothing else answered.
"Nobody is home," Maggie insisted, "I say we call Willie and tell him the monsters have taken a holiday."
"Listen, I hear it again," Grace moved a bit closer for better hearing.
The girls listened closely and the first thing they heard was a gentle melody, like what played at the circus or a carnival merry go round. It sounded like it was on a loop, and growing increasingly out of tune the more they listened and got closer to the entrance. It was frightening to stare into that hallway, not knowing what they would find. Scared as they were to face this new challenge, nothing was going to stop them from facing the next boss fight, even when that feeling of terror would come unexpectedly in causing them to want to turn tail and run. The carousel melody continued playing, irking the girls slightly. But with little hesitation, they forced themselves to march inside and met with blinding light.
They covered their eyes for several seconds, and blinked quickly to adjust to the light which was coming from the electric lamps on the walls, shaped and crafted into teddy bears. Maggie felt something was odd about the furniture and the portraits hung on the walls.
"Hang on a tick you two," she muttered, staring at the portrait of a blond haired little girl in a white ruffled dress. "If this is a factory, why does it look more like something you would find in a dollhouse?"
"A dollhouse?" Mrs. Calloway felt her eyes widen in shock, looking around at the entrance hall, painted in the same colors from outside. All of the furniture, chairs, and dressers were toy sized material.
One quilt on a nearby bed was made from patchwork squares. Her eyes roamed the empty hallway, pausing on the hanging portrait of a mysterious, crooked man that none of them could recognize. His image hung further down the hallway, centered between the walls that held the portraits of what the girls made out as children.
"Children, why would the doll maker keep this many portraits of children in his factory?" Mrs. Calloway droned, feeling on edge from the thought that those faces may be looking at them.
"Whatever it is, let's read this sign over there first," Grace suggested, pointing to the wooden sign written on the left wall. "It might tell us something." She quivered as she read its contents.
Welcome to the doll factory, former home of the ambitious doll maker where his love for children encouraged him to create the most perfect doll that resembled the child he deeply adored, bringing smiles and laughter to their faces. However, rumors persisted that the odd, little man had a secret library of many spell books which the parents discovered after their children vanished without a trace, leaving the doll maker as the only prime suspect.
"Another missing children case?" Maggie asked, swallowing nervously. "Would that explain why there are portraits of children hanging in the hallway?"
She looked back at the portraits for a moment, their faces showing no expressions. Yet their eyes held some kind of eerie secret behind them that made Maggie turn to the entrance doors when they slammed shut. The loud echo reverberating shocked the girls into shielding themselves from whatever might have heard the cacophonic noise. With a slight whimper, Maggie gazed at a window to the right where she noticed something odd on the other side and went to see what it was.
"Hey, come look at this you two," she urged them.
"What's wrong Maggie?" Grace implied, and then she nearly gasped when she saw what it was.
Outside the window was a neighborhood entirely made up of gigantic dollhouses, like a child's nursery room. The houses were all shapes, colors, and sizes. Fences were made of large, pointed pencils and Popsicle sticks. The sky was a blue sky color with white clouds instead of dark and red. Grace stared in slight awe at the unusual, bright warm sun that shouldn't be here, feeling some kind of profound dread that she couldn't understand. She wanted to feel relieved by seeing daylight, but it had to be a lie because everything else they encountered was dark any abysmal. So how could the outside of that window be light instead of dark?
"Has the sun come out already?" Grace was still confused. "This is too good to be true." The silver rose pendant twinkled to signal Miriam's warning.
"Don't be fooled by the saccharine sweetness that you see in this doll factory. Whatever cute and adorable creature you find here will use that to lure you over to them. So be on your guard and don't even think about going outside that window either. It might look fun and harmless, but the toy town is an endless labyrinth designed to deceive and ensnare those who are lured into this fake make believe world where the doll maker sends his minions to find and snatch his victims. It's frightening to get lost in there, but to be found by unwanted eyes is a true nightmare."
"Then I suppose we better find out what the mystery is behind this factory," Mrs. Calloway insisted.
Grace started to shiver. "How did it become so cold in here?"
Maggie remained un-chilled. "I don't feel anything? Maybe you're feeling that same what you call it...psychic chill that lets us know we're in a house of evil, and there's no turning back."
"If we stand here any longer overthinking what's out there, there will be no turning back," Mrs. Calloway asserted, "Every second and minute, the hour glass empties. Our first option is to explore the halls and follow the signs."
"Hey don't leave us here Calloway!" Maggie pleaded, going after her with Grace following behind.
The hallway was quite longer than they realized, walls painted rosy pink and blue, the carpet red and furnished like it had been rolled out from a royal family. Multiple portraits of children hung on the walls. Yet the mysterious portrait of the crooked man straight ahead didn't seem to be getting them any closer for whatever reason, no matter how forward they kept walking. The girls only dreaded to think that the eyes were watching their every move, hoping to secretly prevent them from ever leaving this scary factory. If this truly was to become another missing children's case, they would have to find this doll maker and force the truth out of him. According to Miriam's warning, anything that would appear to look safe might turn out nasty.
Putting their bad thoughts to one side, the girls continued down the hallway of child portraits, resisting the urge to find out if those eyes were moving and watching them. Finally the girls reached the end of the hallway, now turning left where four doors lined the left wall, all of them closed. They paused at another door on the right wall, seeing it was shut tight, with a scribbled message written in red: Doll Graveyard.
"Well these other doors won't open," Maggie shrugged her shoulders, having not come up with other options. "Let's try this one. There might be some kind of clue to find."
With no time to protest, Maggie pushed the door open. The room they had entered did not seem like a room at all. It looked more like they were inside some kind of backyard, only the walls were painted with trees, a night sky, and a grave of headstones.
"What kind of room is this to hold a graveyard?" Grace whimpered, looking around till she found another sign on the wall to read:
Unable to find it in himself to throw away any of his creations, the doll maker had made a toy sized graveyard for the broken and abandoned that were beyond repair. Like people, toys and dolls deserved a proper burial instead of lying cold and alone in a trash can or collecting dust on an empty shelf.
"I guess that answers to what those little tiny rocks are over there," Maggie reared her head over to the ground with the row of tiny little doll-sized coffins with stone lids lined up in six rows. Then what caught their attention was the sound of a little voice singing, and a creak.
"Grace I hope that's just you singing as usual," Mrs. Calloway said nervously.
"I don't sing like that Mrs. C," Grace denied. "How could it be me when I'm talking?"
"Who's there, who's in here?"
The singing had stopped as the girls looked over to where they noticed a child's swing hung from the ceiling, and sitting there was an odd, little plastic doll wearing a pink dress, white socks, pink shoes, and having blond hair tied in a pink ponytail.
"Hello, have you come here to play with me?"
The doll appeared to be the one talking, and swinging lightly. Only odd thing about it was that its mouth was not moving, and the girls couldn't decide what to make of it. All they did was staring at it in confusion, unable to say a word.
"Let's play a game can we? I'll tell you my most favorite game to play. And if you're wondering about the doll maker, I know something you don't know. The rules are very simple. All you have to do is come over here and I'll show you."
Grace, overcome by the soft, sweet little voice, instinctively took a step towards the cute little doll, but Mrs. C firmly slapped her hoof on her shoulder. She looked up at her, annoyed by the sudden touch at first, but saw that haunted look in her eye telling her otherwise. This was apparently what Miriam had warned them about. She looked at the doll again, swinging continuously, and shook her head. "No…"
"Come on please, don't be afraid. Just come a little closer so I can see you better. That's it, right there."
Grace shut her eyes, turning away. "That thing over there is not what I think it is!" She declared, looking at her two friends.
Suddenly, the doll stood up on the swing, her sweet face changing to an evil sneer, eyes glowing red. "That's right, now we can play a game of…NOT GETTING BITTEN!" Her little voice became rough, edged, and demonic as she opened her mouth wide to reveal a row of long sharp teeth, and lunging straight at the girls, landing right Maggie's back and sending her into a state of panic, screaming and trying hard to pull the little monster off of her.
Even though she did manage to fling the doll off, it somehow clung onto her front right leg and gave Maggie a piercing, cruel gaze. "YOU DON'T PLAY FAIR AT ALL!" She snarled, and then chomped down into her ankle. Maggie screamed and jumped up from the floor, swinging her leg wildly, smashing the evil doll against the wall.
"Let go of my leg you little Betsy Wetsy creep!" Maggie snapped, and through the pain, she had enough and used her teeth to grab onto the doll's ponytail, ripping her leg free and throwing the doll hard on the floor, now crying softly like a child with a boo-boo. "Aw, did the poor little dolly get an ow-ee on her little nosy?" She cooed mockingly.
The doll stopped crying and looked up at the girls, her expression deadly and fearsome. "I'M TELLING THE DOLL MAKER YOU MADE ME CRY! THAT MAKES HIM VERY ANGRY!" She spit out blood and variously colored fluids, making a rush for it out the room.
"That was the most unfriendly, impolite doll I have ever seen in my life!" Mrs. Calloway asserted. "No little girl should have to put up that thing."
"Are you ok Maggie?" Grace looked over to Maggie with concern.
"Don't worry, I'll be ok," Maggie responded, giving a weak smile, caressing her ankle where the doll bit her. "I just think I might have developed a bad case of doll allergy."
"I think you mean doll phobia," Grace corrected.
"Whatever. Being scared of clowns, the dark, or spiders is one thing, but I never thought dolls would be one of them. How is that possible?"
Grace shrugged her shoulders. "Because we got attacked by one that's why? It doesn't want to play nice either."
"Here Maggie, better take this bottle before your wound gets infected," Mrs. Calloway came by with a health bottle for Maggie to drink up.
Looking at her wound intently, Maggie saw the bite marks on her ankle pulsating, wondering if this meant some kind of slow transformation like being bitten by a vampire or zombie. Only she got bit by a doll with sharp teeth. "I think it already has!" She screamed in terror, trembling a bit as her hoof felt a certain heaviness appearing shiny and polished, like a piece of wood! "Gimmie that potion!" She swallowed the health bottle in one gulp, hoping it could do the trick.
"What, I still can't feel my hoof," Maggie gasped, cringing at the pain accompanying the activity. "What has that little rabid piece of plastic done to me?"
"Whatever it is, we have to get out of here and find another cure for your condition," Grace urged her to move out of the room. "One of the other rooms might give us answers."
Not knowing what to do about her leg, the girls exited the doll graveyard, stepping back out in the hallway, Maggie's partly wooden hoof making a clap whenever she walked.
"I guess the health potion and anti-venom aren't enough to help Maggie's ankle ain't it?" Grace said anxiously, shaking her head with worry. "There must be a way to reverse what's happened. I don't want to find out what she'll end up as if we're too late."
"We're not giving up Grace," Mrs. Calloway assured. "We're bound to draw out the next answer we seek in the next room; hopefully it isn't locked when we get there. Locked doors are overrated."
Wasting not another second, the girls walked cautiously down the hallway, seeing several doors burst open by themselves, many small creatures running out of them, startling the three.
"Wait, they're little brown teddy bears," Grace held her fire with the slingshot, getting a closer look at those adorable faces. "They look adorable."
"Don't get too close Grace," Mrs. Calloway warned, getting beside her. "I don't trust anything that's cute in this place."
She was right to be cautious. The cute little teddy bears took on a sudden grim appearance, their fur turning from brown to black, their eyes glowing red, long sharp claws growing on their paws, and their cute faces dissolving into sinister sneers, mouths opening to reveal razor sharp teeth.
"And cute on the exterior hides a heart of ugliness. Use those fire stones!"
By her commands, Grace got a good shot at the first teddy bear, extinguishing it in flames, and aimed at another that made a giant leap toward them, also dissolved into ashes.
"Fire will kill them, keep at it Grace!" Maggie shouted.
The third bear flew over Grace, her missing it by a shot while dodging its claws swiping at her head. Being made of fluff and stuffing only took one hit to kill it with fire, making it easy to destroy both of them in seconds.
"So that's what they mean by dangerous toys," Maggie murmured, lifting her infected leg for a close inspection, and with increased worry, saw it become wooden like a puppet's limbs which could only mean… "Hey you two, you know that tingling feeling that you get when your foot falls asleep and you can't feel it?" She showed her now wooden leg, which horrified her friends into realizing she was slowly transforming and had to hurry.
"Maggie, you got the leg of a puppet," Grace gasped. "We got to find that doll that attacked us. Or better yet, find out what you're infected with."
Horrified at the thought of what Grace meant, Maggie shook her head in denial. "You mean become a lifeless puppet, no way! I'm not spending eternity in this factory of nightmares!" Her other normal hoof touched the side of the wall roughly. "Let's try this door."
Maggie pointed up to a door that said Art Room in red paint. She pushed it open carefully, the whole room smelling like some kind of paint and clay mixed together. The room was not what they expected when it turned out to be utterly trashed, like an angry mob had stormed in and wrecked everything in a blind rage. A pile of torn, dismembered toy parts, clothes, and dollhouse furniture stood in the middle of the room where drawings made by children were scattered around the floor. Although it seemed impossible to find anything of value in here, the girls stepped into the room and knelt to get a better view of the drawings done by crayons and colored pencils. Each picture grew more chilling than the next.
"Not much of an answer we're going to find here," Maggie moaned in disappointment. "Let's try the next door."
"It doesn't look like something a professional school teacher would assign to their students," Mrs. Calloway said, creeped out by a drawing of a creepy, crooked man chasing several children, with an evil smirk on his face and the children crying for help. Another resembled a pair of evil hands with long fingernails, clutching onto toys, teddy bears, dolls, rocking horses, puppets, and toy soldiers, all of them appearing terrified into wanting to escape, but couldn't. "But why would there be a drawing of toys here afraid of a different kind of monster?" She looked at another drawing of the same crooked man from the portrait down the hall. In one hand he held an unidentified object, pointing it at a little girl, and drawing the energy or something from her into a rag doll.
"Maybe it…" Grace started, until something interrupted her sentence.
A giggle of some sort caught their attention away from the drawings, looking for the source of the sound. Grace moved backward, stepping on something that let out a squeak. Moving her foot up, it was a lifeless toy giraffe, all dusty and neglected from being played with and taken care of. However, the toy instantly took on the appearance of a yellow stone.
"Looks like we rescued another lost soul," Grace said with relief. "Don't worry; you'll be safe with the others."
Having missed a message on the wall, Grace read the contents:
The Art Room kept the children busy in using their imaginations to their adventures in the toy factory, after being given the perfect toy that was suitable for the perfect companionship. At most times, the drawings turned out sweet and charming. But as time moved on, the drawings took on a disturbing turn of events. From the looks of it, the children used their art tools as warning signs to visitors and their parents that the doll maker was not who he claimed to be. Not when he touched them uncomfortably.
AN: Sorry for the long update, I've been having some emotional problems for the past month which I'd rather not discuss, but I'm over that now. All the past levels that the girls entered held people's greatest fears whether it involves haunted portraits, living statues, scarecrows, scythes, bugs, rats, scorpions, snakes, frogs, spiders, bats, ghosts, carnivorous plants, clowns, needles, doctor tools, the dark, locked rooms, bullies, food allergies, even dolls. Its about exploiting the victim's worst fears to bring them down, with some never making it out alive. But the girls are determined never to let their personal fears get the best of them. Now they are close to discovering who the doll maker truly was behind closed doors and what really happened to the children. Find out in the next chapter.
