AN: Ever read Arkham Asylum: a Serious House on a Serious Earth? Yeah. Balls-to-the-walls crazy. Just like the weird dreams I got from reading it when I was coming down sick (upon which this is based, as best I can). I blame the 'I look…at the doll's house…and the doll's house…looks…at…me.' Go look up what the Joker looks like in that comic. Go on. Nighty-night.
The Puppeteer Patient 120402-She's an adult when it suits her. I'll go! You'll do nothing of the kind. I am not trying on a bunch of lacey, impractical things. Would I do that? Yes. You would.
Katherine-He never learns. Or doesn't care. It's the latter. I knew it! You, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about. Hey! Just pointing it out.
Gramma had a doll's house, she remembers one night.
She hasn't thought about Gramma in years-her only memories of her are visiting the old lady in a home, and she was past mad by then. But Mum considered it her duty, and she got dragged along to entertain herself for two hours of awkward, repetitive 'conversation'. There had been no books, she wasn't to touch the television, and one could only play with the old rag dolls for so long before growing bored.
But there had been a doll's house-an old Victorian thing all rigged up with lights and fancy furniture and everything. She'd never liked it, but she can't quite recall why.
Never mind. Childish flights of fancy, that's all.
She yawns and nestles into Jonathan's arms.
"Kitty?" His voice is drowsy.
"Nothin'. Go back to sleep."
"Mm." One finger moves along her wrist. "Night, then."
Something about that doll's house…it's beginning to bother her now, why she hadn't liked it. What was it about that thing…?
Jonathan would probably have some psychobabble for her-association with unpleasant memories or something. But that wasn't it.
No matter.
"Kitty, say hullo to Gramma."
"Hullo, Gramma."
She's ignored, as always. She's glad of that-she's always been a little frightened of Gramma, with her milky eyes and twitching, grasping hands.
Mum sits down and claps a wrinkled hand.
"Hullo, Mother."
There isn't any answer aside from some sort of wheeze. She shrugs and wanders over to the shelf of keepsakes. Rag dolls, family photos, some horrid porcelain doll with staring eyes…brr.
In the background, the television drones on. She takes a quick peek and finds it to be boring.
On the floor in the corner is Gramma's other keepsake-a large doll's house. Kitty has only seen inside it once, when she was very young and a nurse had opened it for her to look at.
She doesn't like it. It always feels like something is in there, watching her. Sometimes she thinks she hears the pitter-patter of little feet on the stairs, but that's silly.
Although…
She takes a look at Mum and Gramma and finds them to be occupied with some letters from her aunt, who's in France for the summer.
She lifts the latch on the side and cracks the house open. Something jiggles and she moves it a little more to see what's inside.
She still can't see properly and she finally pulls it all the way open.
A skull drops out and lands on her foot.
She starts awake, breathing hard and clawing at her shirt to get it away from her neck. Christ. Damned doll's house.
There had been no skull. She would have remembered a skull. No more sweets before bed, that's all…
She slips out of bed to get a glass of water. She'll just grab it and go right back to bed.
It feels like she's walking through water-sluggish and blurry. God, she's tired…
Swiiiish.
"Jonathan?"
He doesn't answer, and she doesn't really think he'd bother trying to scare her at this hour.
Must've been a tree outside.
Or Batman. Fucking Batman.
If it is Batman, he'll have to wait for her to get her water, because her tongue is stuck to her teeth and that is not a nice feeling.
She can see the sink now, but it seems miles away. Almost there, almost there…
Swiiiish.
There! She can touch it. Now, to get a glass…
She turns to the cabinet and sees it.
The doll's house, sitting quietly in the corner of the kitchen.
No. No, it can't be here, she's been in the basement too long or something, Jesus…
Satisfied that that's the answer (but oh, if she's not shaking from the fright), she gets a glass down and trudges over to the sink.
Swiiiish.
It's closer. Why is it closer? It's not real, it's not real!
She hurries up and fills her glass. The water takes forever to fall in.
It's not real, it's not real!
It bumps her foot and she tries to get away from it, but it's like she's frozen here, slumped against the sink.
She looks at the doll's house, and it looks back.
Then it opens up and a bloody head, neck ragged and nibbled on, rolls out.
"Kitty. Kitty! Kitty, wake up."
NO NO NO NO
"Kitty!"
She jerks and the hands on her shoulders draw back for her to sit up, fumbling for the lamp. Her fingers brush wood and she jerks them back. Screw the light, if she stays in the middle of the bed it can't get her…
"Kitty." Click. "Wake up."
Light, soft and yellow and casting weird shadows on the walls, washes through the room. There is no doll's house in the room-she touched the drawer, which isn't closed all the way.
"Kitty."
"Jonathan."
She hugs him, feels him tense up before hugging her back.
"What was that about?"
"Gramma's doll's house." she whispers. "Gramma's creepy doll's house…"
"What are you talking about?"
"The rats."
"Kitty. You're making jumps that I can't. What exactly are you talking about?"
She takes a shuddery breath.
"Gramma…she was in a home, and she had this old doll's house. And one afternoon-we had to visit, you know-one afternoon I opened it up because there were noises in it." She swallows hard and inches a little further away from the edge of the bed. "A-and there were two rats in there…one of them ate the other one…chewed right through it…she'd p-put them in there as pets and forgotten about them and Jesus…"
"How old were you?" His voice is soft, reassuring, and one hand moves gently up and down her back.
"Seven."
"But you were frightened of the house rather than the rats?"
She nods.
"I never liked that house."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Can you remember?"
She shakes her head and plasters herself against him, where it's safe. He tousles her hair and tries to get her to lie back down.
"All right. Come on, go back to sleep."
She lets him turn off the light and tries the 'deep breaths, don't look' trick.
It doesn't work and she spends the rest of the night jerking herself awake at every little noise in the darkness.
THE END