The Perfect Doll

A/N: I was suddenly inspired to write a horror story one day while I was lazing around on my bed... So here goes! I hope you get the scary vibes while reading this because this is my first time writing something in the horror genre and I'm looking for feedbacks - whether it's horrible or not. :)

Also, this is dedicated to my dad who's flying off tomorrow morning (actually it's later since it's already 3AM now). He helped me imagine some of the scenes so yep! Thank you Daddy, even if you'll never get to read it :P!

Enjoy!

♤

You’d think that everyone was sleeping or up playing Call of Duty at 3AM, but no, not me.

My legs propelled me further down the street, its rough surface illuminated by the old-fashioned streetlamps throwing feeble light on either side. No matter how much I ran, I never got tired or breathless. Cool? Not when you have some strange woman chasing after you that is.

Every time my curiosity burnt in me, I’d look back only to find that same figure dressed in her pale white, over-sized gown covering her hovering feet and her long, raven-black hair would veil over her pale face as she effortlessly trailed a few feet behind me and her shadow nowhere in sight, silently mocking my frantic self.

 Beads of perspiration swam on my rather pale forehead and my hair was a mass of matted caramel locks from all that running. As I peeked over my shoulder once again, the figure was gone. She stopped chasing me! Immediately, my bare feet came to a halt and my translucent nightgown stopped fluttering. My heart was ramming against my ribcage, and my widened russet brown eyes scanned across the deserted street, lined with empty suburban houses shrouded in silence. The only audible sound was the violent thudding of my heart.

Convinced that she was gone, I turned my focus on a random one-storey house with its door ajar and sprinted for it. The mushy grime sloshed against my feet as I cut across the desolate front yard but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get away from her.

I bounded up to the mossy veranda and into the house, slamming the peeling wooden front door behind me and leaning on it. All that greeted me was darkness and silence. It was so silent, except for my panting echoing around the dark room.

Then I froze.

I could feel steady breathing on the right side of my neck so closely that I could feel the condensation on my skin. The hair on my back stood on ends, and my head hesitantly turned towards the source of the breathing. My vision was already adjusted to the darkness, unfortunately. Gulping, my peripheral vision could make out something… But I stopped when my ears picked up another sound.

Drip.

Drip.

Fixating my gaze on the musty floor, I spotted a forming puddle of a dark liquid substance. My mouth went dry and tingles shot painfully down my spine. The coppery scent of it was putrid and the only thing that registered in my mind was…

Blood.

My eyes immediately darted up and raven-black hair greeted me. Her hair was brushed to the side, and her pale features were revealed, an ominous smile baring her rotting teeth, bulging black orbs oozing blood that streaked down her face for eyes and her gaze was focused only on me. That alone scared me, but there was more…

Only her head was peeking over my shoulder, with her body nowhere in sight, its torn neck laced with thick blood that was dripping on the floor.

My breath hitched in my throat and I bolted away, where? I didn’t know either, but I had to get away from that madness.  The dust was wafting up my nostrils but I couldn’t think about that. My arms were stretched out to feel for any doorknobs and finally my hand stumbled on one rusty one. Yes! I thought, and barged into the empty room. Some light from the streetlamps penetrated the huge bay window and the eerie glow from the creaky wooden floor sent more shivers down my spine.

I locked the door behind me and leaned on it, this time whirling my head both sides to check for signs of any severed head floating beside me. When there was none, I heaved a sigh of relief internally. That relief, unfortunately, lasted for mere seconds.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

My heart went into overdrive once again. The bloody puddle wasn’t forming anywhere near me, but at the far right corner of the room. I didn’t want to believe it. My eyes remained fixated on the ground where the puddle was enlarging as every second passed.

“Jezzykah,” A ghastly moan called my name from the left side of the room and my head instinctively shot up to the ceiling and a bloodcurdling scream reverberated around the peeling walls. It took me a few moments to realise it was from my own constricted voice-box. On the right side was her headless body floating just beneath the ceiling, blood staining her white gown while on the left was her head, her bloodshot eyes piercing pass my eyes, as if she was glaring straight into my soul.

I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take that anymore.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I repeatedly told myself it was just a dream and it wasn’t real. The smell of decay lingered near my nostrils and my nose crinkled in disgust, my eyelids flying open once again. She wasn’t near the ceiling anymore. She was inches from my face, smiling wryly, the veins in her eyeballs tensed up and circling the sides of her pupils.

“Fuck!” I shrieked, my whole body enveloped in a layer of sweat and I blinked in disbelief. Was it a dream? My exhausted eyes squinted and I scanned the room – my room. Streaks of gay sun rays darted through my open window, signaling the time for school. My room was the typical princess-styled bedroom, complete with a girly vanity, walk-in closet and personal bathroom. Groaning, I sat up on my huge frilly bed, disgusted at my sweaty state and huffed before stripping out of my nightgown and strutting to my window to dry up the sweat.

My friends always warned me about not getting wet when I’m sweaty, because it would leave spots. I scrutinised the neighbourhood, the whole street lined with mansions and Ferraris being parked on front yards were a common sight. Sighing, I clutched the window sill, lowering my throbbing head. The nightmare felt so real.

Just as I spun round to my bathroom, I swore someone on the neighbouringmansion’s front yard was staring straight at me.

 You see, I was paranoid and I had all the right to be, because the neighbouring mansion was abandoned by its previous owner since a year ago.

It had to be my imagination, right?

♤

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