A.N. General disclaimer for all things copyright. I do not own the characters, setting, or lore utilized in the creation of this piece. My work is inspired by the creative thought of the original authors
The doll was the strangest thing she had found.
She had found it resting in an alcove just off the main path, at the start of the steps that led to the building. At the size of a full grown woman, the doll sat resting against on a bit of land that stuck out from the foundation of the mausoleum. It sat upright, back resting against a cobblestone wall, hands resting in its lap. It was clothed in shin high boots, a long dark skirt, something favoring black more than blue, and a brown top that looked more like a corset with long sleeves. A brown wrap, embroider with beautiful patterns that swirled, covered the arms and shoulders. A small amulet rested on a red neck wrap that was fastened around the high collar of the top, a small thing that seemed to glitter in the pale moonlight. Finally, the doll wore a bonnet, made of the same brown material as the wrap, with three flowers fastened just behind the left ear.
It was odd, out of place in this dreary setting. The clothes looked like they had been lifted from some Victorian design, clashing badly with her own modern apparel, and that in itself wasn't the strangest part.
It looked so real. The face was immaculately sculpted, high check bones raised over small lips and a dainty nose. The eyes shown with a silver gleam, reflecting the pale moonlight with a faux life, and were accented by the use of some make up. The hair, and it really did feel like it, was a pale while and hung down to the base of the neck. The hands, the only other body part visible, display the true nature of the doll, the pale joints segmented and connected by unseen clasps.
The doll was nothing like she had seen before. She had seen porcelain dolls in some stores along the Boardwalk at home, small things that a child or some collector would be enthralled to have. This was something else, something far greater than any of those inferior examples. Running her fingers across the face, she noted that the porcelain didn't feel right, not like those smaller dolls. This was harder and much more sturdy.
Stepping back, she looked over the doll in confusion. What could she make of this? What was it for? Who built it? It was easily the largest doll she had ever seen, measuring taller than her own form, taller than most girls her age, and was dressed in nice, if antiquated, clothes. The material felt expensive, a mixture of the roughness of wool and the velvet of silk.
She spent upwards to an hour with the doll, looking it over, comparing it to what she had seen elsewhere, finally coming to an uncomfortable conclusion.
The statue and the doll were of the same person.
If the statue was an icon set at an alter, then what did that make the doll, crafted in the image of something to be worshiped?
She tried not to think about.
Turning to leave the doll, she noticed a distortion on the road, a twisting of the cobblestone that made it look liquefied. She paused, watching the odd event, waiting for anything to occur. After a few minutes of nothing more than the fluttering of flowers in the breeze, she stepped forward, approaching the distortion.
It twisted, pulled, and opened.
She jumped back and screamed.
Four creatures, small and pale white, had emerged from the distortion, springing up with surprising speed. They were small, barely reaching half way up her calves, and looked monstrous. Skin stretched over bones and thin arms that ended in bony hands. They were hairless and malformed, some missing eyes, empty socks staring into some maddened abyss, while others had teeth and jaws, mouths held open as a low moaning began. They were pressed together, as if to many attempted to pass through whatever the distortion really was and got stuck, fumbling around each other, the torsos merging into the distortion. They twisted and turned, pushing and pulling, each trying to move forward and closer.
Closer to her.
She couldn't breath, eyes wide with fright and disgust at the grotesque things. She watched them, her body ready to move at a moment's notice, her feet moving into position for another quick backstep.
They continued to fumble, each vying to get closer as some reached out in a beckoning motion.
It was then that she noticed something completely off putting atop their gross, misshapen heads.
They were wearing top hats.
Small headgear in the same Victorian fashion she had seen earlier, they were black wide brimmed hats with a single brown band around the base.
They would have been cute if not the situation.
She waited, observing their continued motions, before letting out a breath. Her heart pounded from the fright, her blood rushing through her veins leaving her a little flushed. She let out a small laugh, a cathartic release that she didn't really feel, before taking a step forward.
The creatures seemed to react, bidding her forward with bony arms and eyeless skulls.
She swallowed hard.
Nothing here had ever hurt her. This was a peaceful place, a safe location, a sanctuary of sorts. She felt fine, better than even. Her sight was perfect and her body acted with a speed that she wasn't aware she had. Things had changed, changed in a big way. She held a theory on that, a hope against the horrific alternative.
She walked forward and approached.
She stopped about foot away, looking down at the small things crowding around each other. She blinked and instantly one of the creatures was holding a long purple scroll. It looked old, with crumpled edges, and had a similar effect that the distortion had, the edges of the scroll bleeding into the air. The four beings maneuvered, each taking an edge, and opened the scroll.
She blinked at the text. It was legible. She understood it.
She read.