"Your eyes are of such a perfect shape, such beautifully thick, long, and dark eyelashes" he carefully pushed my glasses up, running his thumb over the edges of my eyelashes very gently. "You are hiding something, young man"
It was a relief when he set my glasses back on my nose.
"Such exquisite beauty found on a single person must be a sin. Alan Humphries"
I looked at him, surprised. "H-how do you know my name?"
"You have such delicate features" he said, unnerving and flattering me at the same time.
He bit the index finger of his glove, pulling it from his hand. I stared in shock: all the joints and sections of his fingers were so clear – made of wood. I tried to deny it, telling myself he must have been injured and have a prosthetic hand. But the ease of control he seemed to have over it doubted my theory. He removed the other glove, and to my further horror, that hand was the same. Was he… a doll? I whimpered as he cupped my face in his hand, tipping my chin up so it was hard not to look at him.
"Such a lovely bone structure, such delicate cheekbones" he ran his hand over my nose, and then gently traced the wholes of my ear. I started to cry a little, scared and annoyed at myself for following the music. The music box sat beside us on a table; I could see it out the corner of my eye. The man wiped the tears from my cheek with a wooden thumb before sitting back, looking at me. I turned my head away, looking round the shop once again. It was quite interesting and I wanted to look properly, despite it all. It suddenly occurred to me that if I got close enough to the door, I'd be able to make a run for it. He must have seen me looking.
"Please feel free to browse the shop" the man said.
I nodded gratefully, standing up and going over to the nearest display. I noticed another door, and it was tempting, but for all I knew it lead to another room, so I decided to focus on the front door.
I stopped when I was a little music box. I turned to look at the man, who was stood watching me.
"May I…?"
He nodded and I turned back and turned the handle. I knew the tune as 'London's Burning' and couldn't help but smile a little. I'd always liked music boxes, and I had a little one on the chest of drawers in the bedroom at home. Cautiously, I passed by the man and went over to the other side of the room, looking with interest but intent on escaping.
"A masterpiece… Formed by the very gods of this world"
I turned to smile nervously and nod appreciatively at his compliment. There were dolls all over the shop, and chances are this man was also a doll. All the glass eyes scared me, watching me. Some looked as though they were reaching out to me, and I shuddered a little. They were pretty, beautifully made, but even so, there was something dark about them.