The Doll Collector

Chapter 1: The Doll Collector

Her eyes shook with fear and resignation as tears streaked down her dirtied face. Dried blood was caked on the side of her head where I apparently hadn't hit her hard enough. Her voice cracked as she pleaded with me for the last time to let her go. She promised she wouldn't tell and that she would forget everything that had happened. In a perfect world, yes, I could let her go, she could forget about this and she wouldn't tell. But we didn't live in a perfect world. I walked up to her fragile body that was dropped in a helpless heap on the floor. Her dress had torn from the sides and frayed at the hems. I stooped down to be at eye level and grasped a clump of hair from the back of her head. She whimpered as my fingers ripped out a couple of strands. I pressed my index finger to her cracked lips and shook my head.

"Please." she croaked. "Please let me go."

I lifted up my other hand, allowing the dim lighting to glint off of the smooth surface of my blade. A choked sob escaped her throat as she closed her eyes and mumbled out the word 'no' over and over again. It sounded like a melody as it floated through one ear, right out of the other. I pressed the tip of the knife into her skin feeling her pulse against it. Her blood was rushing through her veins. How quickly would it run out of her body once I slit her open? I stroked her skin, sighing at how smooth she felt. Goosebumps rose all over, lifting the hairs on her arms. It was time. I moved behind her, wrapping a firm arm over her forehead. She began to squirm, struggling to scream for help. After days of not being fed, she had grown weak. My legs instinctively wrapped around her body to keep her from moving. I took in a deep breath, pulling the blade across the taut skin of her neck with medical precision. I released a breath as warm blood began to flow and squirt from the laceration I had created. Her body moved jerkily, accompanied by gurgling sounds. I dropped my blade, and wrapped that arm around her waist, then gently rocked her back and forth as I caressed her long brown hair.

Her blood blanketed her torso and my arm as it pooled between her legs. I felt for her pulse, finding none, then set her down on a back stretcher. Her eyes were turned up toward the ceiling. The light had left them and no longer reflected life back to me. I opened the clamps to the back stretcher, making sure she was in the proper position. Her body was already starting to grow heavy, proving to be a challenge to get her on right. Once she was positioned correctly, I shut the clamps and turned her upside down. Beneath her head was a metal bucket, collecting the rest of her blood. I poured bleach into a container and began to wipe away traces of myself in every nook and cranny I had been in. Within an hour, she was perfectly clean for the freezer. I laid her to rest where my other girls had lay. Soon she'd be a beautiful doll, free from the world's treachery and harm.

I took her clothes, fixing them onto a mannequin and carried it through the back door into the woods. It was a shame that she had soiled her dress, but it would have to do. Owls and other night crawlers had come out, chasing away the light of day. My special place was about 5 miles away, located a mile off of another abandoned summer camp cabin. It was a long walk, sure, but the fresh evening air always invigorated me and prepared me for the night, and I had all night. I stopped at a heap of fallen branches and leaves, and pushed away the cover to expose a deep ditch. When the mannequin was positioned well on a bed of dirt, I made the returning trek to the cabin for the bucket of blood. My art had to be completed with patience and time. I stood at the edge of the ditch and evenly distributed the blood, making sure to cover every inch on the mannequin. The coppery smell mixed with the scent of fresh pine. Wild flowers always grew near the cabin, always so vibrant and full of color. A small bunch was near the base of a tree, along with dried vines and fallen leaves. I picked them up, snapping the vine cords, then brought them with me.

I sat at the edge of the ditch, twisting and tying the vines together before I attached the flowers and leaves. It turned into a beautiful nature crown before my eyes. I smiled, lightly fingering the rosy, silky petals, then slid back into the ditch. The crown rested nicely on her head, giving the mannequin an innocent and gentle look. She was perfect, but not nearly as perfect as my dolls. I made a quick stop at the cabin nearby, and lit a small fire that would die out on its own. It was my way of blowing smoke, no pun intended. The mannequin was supposed to be found and this cabin was the perfect decoy to keep the authorities distracted. When that was finished, I trudged back to my own cabin, throwing a match into my fireplace.