Weird Short Stories

The Doll

"Lucinda Raven! Where are you going?"

I roll my eyes at my sister. "This campout is boring. Those ghost stories? Lamest ever told. I'm going to go somewhere I can actually get scared."

My blonde-haired older sister narrows her blue eyes at me, then shrugs. "It's your funeral. Just make sure you come back." Then she turns around and returns to the ring of kids huddled dramatically around the fire.

I stand there watching, taking a second to push down the weird feeling that wants me to go join in their delighted shrieks and warmth; when at last I succeed, I spin around, my long black hair whipping around to follow me.

I switch on my flashlight, letting its beam illuminate the forest around me in search of the perfect opportunity.

Despite the lone screech owl's intermittent cries and squeaks of bats overhead, with the occasional rustle of leaves around me, I am perfectly unafraid.

I've never been one to be afraid of the dark, and I am certainly not afraid of the forest when I have a light.

So I press on, ducking branches and stepping over tree roots. Eventually I come across a narrow dirt trail. Curious, I turn left and follow it deeper into the forest.

After several long minutes, my flashlight's beam falls across a rusted metal gate, half off its' hinges. Moving the flashlight beam forward, there's a large overgrown yard with vines clinging to everything.

As I look at the dilapidated house in front of me, a crow flies by overhead, letting a loud "Ca-caw!" as it passes - the perfect horror movie scene. The moment after it passes a breeze blows across my back, followed by goosebumps.

I grin in excitement, adrenaline starting to trickle through my veins like warm water. I walk confidently forward, carefully pushing open the half broken gate. As I walk the broken cobbled path to the house, I see overgrown shrubs and an old, collapsed well, all being choked by vines.

Distracted, I catch myself just in time as my foot gets caught on an uneven stone, regaining my balance after the near tumble. The scuffle of my feet had scared a spider out of its hiding, and it now scuttles across the floor. I take a relieved breath, then continue on; this time, however, more careful to watch where I'm going.

The cobbled path, at first looking straight, actually winds through the yard in a confusing pattern-- sometimes with barely noticeable curving turns; others sharp, giving barely any warning to prevent myself walking into the thick vines and overgrown grass.

After several minutes, the battered wooden door to the house is illuminated in the circular beam of my flashlight. There's an old, ornate lion knocker on the door, but from the state of the house there's obviously no point in attempting to alert anyone inside.

I grab hold of the knocker and hit the door as hard as I can to hear a reverberating bang. I walk inside, pushing back the door. There's dust everywhere, the carpet faded from the many years of disuse.

I walk in, closing the creaking door behind me. To the left is an open doorway leading to what was once a dining room. On the opposite side of the hall is another doorway leading to a sitting room. As the hallway is a dead end besides these two doors and the stairs ahead, I poke my head into the sitting room. There's another doorway that leads to somewhere, and I walk forward to check it out. 

I had only taken two steps into the room, my shoes thudding on the now wooden floor, when a noise stops me completely. Behind me, where I came from, there is a muffled thump. 

Thump.

My heart starts working again and the trickle of adrenaline turns into a river.

Thump.

I turn around, back out of the sitting room doorway. Looking left, my heart stops again at what I see. 

A doll, about a foot and a half tall, is jumping up, stretching its arms toward the the doorknob. 'It's trying to lock me in!' I think, shouting inside my head. 

Frozen in place, my brain is oddly focused on the doll. All around me is complete silence except for the muffled thumps, the jumping doll the only movement, the only sign of life. But the doll can't be alive... can it?

My mouth goes dry; every beat of my heart is a shout to get the heck out of here. Inside my head I'm cursing myself with every word I can possibly think of, deeply regretting beyond anything I've ever done the choice I made to come in here.

When I get out of here, my sister won't believe me when I tell her about this jumping doll, but it doesn't matter-- I'm seeing it with my own eyes, despite the fact that I know this can't possibly be happening, it's short brown hair bouncing up and down, it's dress billowing with every decent.

I've wasted too many precious seconds on useless thoughts. The doll, giving up, lands back on its feet. Slowly, my mind solely focused on the doll's every movement, it turns around, spotting me. 

"AHHHHHH!!!" I shriek in terror. 

I freeze, my mind giving my body conflicting orders on where to go. Half wants to go up the stairs to the high ground, and half doesn't want to waste time climbing stairs and go through the sitting room to the other door.

The doll starts to walk toward me, opening and closing it's mouth as if trying to speak.

My heart pounding and breath coming fast, I run for it.

Up, up the stairs, one at a time, too worried I might trip if I did two at a time. Turn right at the landing and up some more stairs, then forward into a hallway filled with doors.

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I run forward into the first room to my left, close the door behind me and barricade it.

I can hear the doll come up behind me, but I close the door before it can get in.

Seconds later the doll is suddenly in the room-- there's a hole in the wall leading to the other room!

Cornered, I open the door and run down the stairs again, closing the door behind me to annoy the doll.

Attempting to take the stairs two at a time, I trip and tumble down the stairs, past the landing, and halt, bruised, at the bottom.

Groaning, I get up and rush through the sitting room towards what appears to be the kitchen.

There's no hiding spot. While the rest of the house is messy and covered in dust, this room is pristine and shining in the moonlight coming through the window.

The cabinets are too small, the cupboard locked.

There's only one place to go.

Quickly, I rush to the oven, open the door, and awkwardly close it behind me as I jump in, huddled up to fit.

The doll comes in just as I'm closing the door, and rushes at me, mouth opening in a silent scream.

I smile and wave, triumph filling me.

But then the oven gets warm.

The doll is still in front of me, and now it's crying.

As the oven gets warmer, uncomfortably warm, it opens it's mouth as if to speak. No words come out, but the words it tries to speak are evident.

'I was just trying to save you.'

The oven gets hotter, and I'm screaming my agony as the doll outside is sobbing.

The next day Lucinda Raven's sister went looking for her. She followed her sister's tracks, but after following a small path she found they stopped suddenly.

The whole town, except the fire fighters, looked for days for any sign of Lucinda Raven, but there was not a clue to be seen.

While everyone was searching for the girl, the fire fighters' attention was focused toward an old house that caught on fire from an overcooked turkey.

The fire blazed so hot there were only ashes of the house remaining.