CREEPY CATALOG

I Finally Solved The Mystery Of My Childhood Friend's Creepy Doll Collection

"He's been bad. He's been a very bad little man."

The tiny hand grasps onto my leg. I scour the darkness for the source of this intrusion into my bedroom. I recoil in horror as my eyes finally rest on the tiny face. They are drawn to the frown set below the beady, plastic eyes. As those two icy circles turn and stare into me, I hold my breath and pray that this nightmare will finally come to an end.

--

Ever have a random memory from your youth that gives you pause? It comes as an epiphany that completely recontextualizes something that perplexed you as a child. Two examples spring to mind. One night, my parents came in and woke up my brother and me. They were laughing uproariously and gathered us into the living room at one in the morning. They made us dance and sing while my father absentmindedly strummed the guitar. The next day the incident wasn't mentioned over breakfast and in fact was never brought up again. It was only yesterday that I had the stunning realization that my teetotaling parents had gotten wasted and used us for their cheap, drunken amusement.

Then of course there is the other incident that, due to recent events, has made me reevaluate a phantom memory from my youth and cast it in a new and horrifying light.

I had a friend when I was in elementary school. When I moved to Rashosha, WI, we quickly became friends due to our undying enthusiasm for gaming. I had a Genesis and he had an SNES. So, it was a very fortuitous pairing for the both of us. Soon after being introduced, we were spending many a lazy Saturday at my place playing Sonic the Hedgehog.

He was a very strange kid. He had an alarming intensity about him. His eyes were always wild and distant. In addition to this, he was also prone to fits of incredible rage if his character died in a game.

He was a menace on the playground. He was prone to scrapes and fights at the drop of a hat over benign disagreements. This concerned me somewhat, but I never had a friend with a Super Nintendo. My misgivings with Edgar were overruled by my excitement. I was very eager to head over to his place and finally play Mario World.

Eventually, one bright Saturday morning, I rode my bike over to his house smiling the entire way. I knocked on his door barely containing the anticipation of being able to play Super Mario World for the first time.

His mother answered the door and gave me a brief tour of the house. It was a humble home. I remember thinking how tiny it was, but it had a very kept and comforting interior. That is, except for the basement. I descended the stairs to find Edgar alone in the cavernous room. It was cold and sterile. The grey concrete served as a stark contrast to the rest of the house.

His mother pulled me to the side and discreetly said to me, "thanks so much for being his friend." This struck me as very strange. Her hand left my shoulder as she turned and climbed the stairs with a smile beaming from her face.

Edgar was oblivious to my presence as I approached him. He was so engrossed in Mario that he barely paid me any attention. I was in no way offended by this. Gaming was first and foremost in our lives. Everything else was secondary. Even when his dog, Lady, came down the stairs and licked his face, he didn't break his gaze from the screen. He just grabbed the dog by the muzzle and dismissively pushed her away.

We spent the afternoon taking turns on his SNES. Though I didn't think it was possible, after hour 4 I became bored with the game. I asked him what else he had to play, and he told me to check the closet. He indicated a door on the other side of the room. I walked over and opened it. The interior of the closet was rather large. Inside was a shelf with various video games on it. It was difficult to read the titles. I flipped on the light. My eye was immediately drawn to the back corner. I stared at it intently for a good 10 seconds. I couldn't believe my eyes. Perplexion gave way to fear.