The Living Doll (Jason the Toymaker X Reader)

The Stranger

With a gasp, you woke up, throwing the covers off of you and standing. Immediately a wave of nausea hit you and you fell back into a sitting position on your bed, clutching your skull and letting out a whimper.

Where were you?

The small room seemed filled to the brim with peculiar objects. Clockwork toys and stuffed dolls lined the walls, sitting perfectly poised on shelves,desks, and the floors. You looked back down at the bed you were sitting on. How did you get here, in this bed, tucked underneath the green and blue checkered covers, without noticing? Your head was still screeching in pain, begging you to lay back down and fall asleep again.

You heard a soft click, and you head snapped up, sending another wave of pain through it, and looked towards the door. It opened silently, and a man stepped through.

"Hello, love. Are you alright?" He asked, a soft, worried smile on his lips. Your eyes widened in realization, memories flooding back like a dam breaking.

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Your room was probably the messiest it had ever been. Boxes were stacked on top of each other, each one carrying a different label on it. Clothes, school supplies, decorations, toys. You were heading off to college soon, and fitting your entire room into boxes was harder than expected.

Looking into your closet, you threw stuff onto the floor and into boxes, depending on where it was to end up.

"Trash, college, attic, attic, college..." you muttered to yourself, grabbing objects and glancing at them before throwing them into their correct pile. You moved a few books to the side, throwing them into the college pile, before laying your eyes on the object that was previously resting behind them. Your expression turned into one of confusion as you grabbed the stuffed animal sitting there. It was a velveteen rabbit, half of it was a beautiful maroon, while the other half was a creamy tan. It was possibly one of the most beautifully crafted toys you've ever seen, and you couldn't remember where you had gotten it, or when. You stared at it for a moment longer, before dropping it into a garbage bag. "Trash." you muttered, and moved onto a pile of jeans.

The week before you moved, the toy reappeared. You had reopened one of the boxes, trying to find one of your favorite shirts, and instead were greeted with the velveteen rabbit. You glared at it, scooping it up and running downstairs to find your mom cutting up carrots.

"Hey, stop putting stuff in the boxes without telling me," you said to her. She looked up, smiling, realizing you had caught onto her little game. "That dress looked great on you, I don't get why you don't want it," she protested. You stopped in confusion. "What? What dress? I was talking about the dumb bunny." You looked at her. "What dress are you talking about?"

Mom looked at you, equally confused. "A bunny?" She asked, and you held up the toy. She shrugged and went back to cutting the vegetable. "I didn't do it. And your father hasn't touched your stuff." You turned and walked out of the kitchen and back to your room.

Later, you cut the rabbit to pieces and threw it out. It creeped you out. You found the dress and did the same thing to it. It was as ugly as you remembered.

The night before you left, you said bye to the last person leaving your "Y/N's going away" party, and headed upstairs, almost immediately went to bed. You were smiling to yourself, thinking of college, and how fun the party had been, when you heard a creaking sound. A cracking sound. The sound of paint chipping and wall falling apart. You sat up in bed to see a blue door replacing the one on your closet, and saw the gold handle turning slowly. You held your breath for a quick second, calling out, "Dad?" Before the door opened.

And there he stood. The man with long red hair and a soft smile. But that wasn't your first impression of him. His green eyes glowed in the dark, and his teeth were bared. He glared at you, his shoulders hunched and angry.

"Hello, love," He snarled. " I saw what you did to my toy." He rose up, standing even taller as he looked down on you. You heard the faint sound of your parents calling your name, still sleepy. Not knowing what was happening. "I'm not happy with you," the man said. Tears formed in your eyes. You scooted backwards, trying to make yourself small. Apparently, your younger self was right. There were monsters hiding in your closet after all.

"Who are you?" You asked the figure, voice cracking. Your throat had a lump in it you couldn't swallow, not letting you scream. Jason looked shocked, and his eyes glowed even brighter. You saw a thin line in his hair turn pink, and then white.

"Excuse me?" He said. "Who am I?" He let out a short laugh that felt filled with barely held-back rage. "Maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't destroyed my only connection with you, you could have figured it out!"

"Y/N?" You heard rapid knocking on your door. Your parents had come to rescue you. If only the door wasn't locked. The red-haired man looked towards the door with a pissed-off gleam still in his eye, before looking back at you and giving you possibly the most bone-chilling smile you could ever dream of.

"Well, I suppose I can't really blame you now, can I?" He said, as your parents began talking quicker, hearing his voice. He stepped toward you, and you tried scooting back again, the wall pressing against you. "I mean," he continued, giving you a look, "you did destroy my gift, but you didn't realize who gave it to you. Maybe I can try and fix your... ungratefulness. " He paused. Your parents were pounding on the door.

"Hm. Or perhaps not." He seemed deep in thought. Your eyes switched between him and the door. Maybe you could make a run for it? Suddenly, he broke into a huge smile. "I guess I'll decide on the way!" He said joyfully, and grabbed your shoulders.

You let out a scream, loud enough to wake the dead, and thrashed against him, trying to escape his grip. His face twisted into another ugly snarl, and yanked you out your bed, dragging you to the blue door. Tears streamed down your face as you fought him, trying everything to get out of his iron grip.

Your bedroom door finally burst open, a large beam of light coming into the room as your parents ran in to see you get dragged through. You reached out to them desperately, before a hand wrapped around your face and pulled you the rest of the way through. You shook your head, clawing at the hand, and moved sharply to the side, hitting a wall and blacking out.

That was the last thing you remember.