A pale little girl stood by the man, looking over his peaceful yet lifeless body. She kneeled down and patted his head, then went searching for... something. "Sorry, sir.." She wasn't sure what else to say. She fished out a wad of cash, looking through and counting how much.
"Only 50? How did he buy the house?" She looked around the grand interior, the kitchen looking like it had servants running it. Maybe it had been sold cheap, so it could be sold. It had looked this way since she came in, it was actually kinda unnerving. She patted the man's head again, wondering why he killed himself.
There was a far off giggle, and she spun around. No one was there... she scratched her head and started walking. Stay... something told her to stay here. "What the...?" Small, slow footsteps followed her around the house. She tried the front door, it was locked.
You want to play with the toys, don't you? She turned around, seeing dolls strewn out across the floor. She looked at them, the child in her who never got to play with them told her to walk up and talk to them, while her stomach told her to find a way out and get some food. This was truly a dilemma.
Come, have fun! The voice was alluring. She wanted to play now, forgetting all fear and hunger, stepping forward. She kneeled down and picked up a doll, it's golden locks uncannily looking real. She stared quietly into its green glassy eyes, waiting to figure out what to do with the dolls.
Do you want me to play with you? The girl nodded, not entirely sure what to do with the dolls. She hadn't grown up with them. The soft sound of feet came closer, a motherly figure coming out, her dress billowing around her ankles. She sat down next to the girl, a smile on her face as she picked up an old doll. Her mouth didn't open when she spoke. I remember these, my father gave them to me when I was young... The little girl looked up at her. "Really? They look brand new!" The lady looked sad. Yes, they rarely got used. It's a shame, really. They are so pretty. She brushed the hair out of one of the doll's face. You're pretty too, child. What is your name? The child stood up, unsure about giving her name, but she did anyways. "Elanor."
The lady smiled down at her. A pretty name for a pretty girl. I don't remember my name, unfortunately. You may call me what you like. Elanor stood in thought for a moment, then spoke. "How about Eliza?" The lady nodded. A fitting name. Tell me, are you hungry?
She stopped for a second, then nodded. Eliza took out a small, wrapped Madeline. She handed it to Elanor. She looked at it for a second, then quickly unwrapped it, shoving the spongy cake in her mouth. She started coughing, choking on the cake. Her vision blurred, the fancy dress Eliza wore tattering and tearing, her sweet, perfect smile turning into a crooked grin. Bodies scattered the floor, small and broken. Eliza's head turned, her face lacking eyes to see. Elanor dropped dead in an instant, Eliza started scraping it's claws against her stomach, tearing her flesh. It smiled, another successful meal.
