Courage's Curse

Dolls

Milo continued down the hallway, occasionally peeking into some of the rooms. So far, everything seemed much more normal than the kitchen's state. Milo felt like he was on a roller coaster of fear.

Next on his list to inspect was the playroom. Milo had always felt uneasy when it came to playrooms, especially as a little child. The smell, walls, and overall look of each one he had visited in his childhood brought him chills every time.

Being in a house that a murderer had been, or still was, was the last thing on his 'want to do list'. And upon finding a playroom in the house, things felt worse for him. 

The playroom was dark, with only one window across from the entrance. Taking another of many deep breaths, Milo stepped inside and turned on his flashlight.

The walls wallpaper was peeling back but it was evident that there had been children, young children there. Scribbles and stick figures probably with crayons, embellished the walls. 'I mean, Hollander /did/ say that there had been kids, right?' Milo thought, pacing forward.

However, as Milo continued deeper in, the playful and innocent drawings started to be joined with bloody hand prints as well as words such as 'HELP' scraped into the wall. 

Eventually, Milo reached near the end of the room, and by now, there were a lot more toys scattered on the ground than before. Shining the flashlight on the floor, the rest of the room appeared to be what looked like a doll house. The odd thing was, it was life-sized.

Chairs were neatly tucked into the table, and they seemed to be holding figures in them, which is why Milo stopped himself for a moment from walking up to them and having a closer look.

They appeared to be limp and motionless, like they were dead. "Please just be dolls-" Milo muttered, inching towards the figures slowly. "Just be motionless, gigantic, freaky, ugly dolls.."

The boy resisted his urge to want to throw up again when he looked closer. The dolls in fact were more corpses. But they didn't appear to have been as brutally massacred as the one in the kitchen had been. Each face was pale, with eyes whose pupils were smaller than Milo had ever seen before, indicating to him they had likely been poisoned. How, he did not know, however.

Each face was pale, with eyes whose pupils were as smaller than Milo had ever seen before. 

It was a queer, sickening sight. The corners of the lips had been cut upward, creating a very dark crimson smile, looking like it had come straight out of a horror movie. Milo stared at the smile, trapped in sick amazement. The whole scene reminded him of the wax museums he had been in the past. Oh, the past. It seemed like such a wonderful place to be in. After all, the present was a complete mess, and the future probably awaited certain death.

 After what seemed like an eternity, Milo managed to look away and focus on the other characteristics of the unfortunate people. 

Three of the four were dressed as what seemed like what classic dress ups for dolls, and with the whole theme in the area, Milo didn't seem phased by this. They were all very clean, which led Milo to shudder as it was unnatural. He couldn't put his mind on the fact that someone had bothered to make sure they stayed in a relatively good condition and it seemed like it had happened recently as well. It was very unsettling.

 Moving his mind off of this fact, he focused on the fourth person. She was quite different from the others. 

Her dressing was what a little girl would wear. Ribbons in her hair to tie back a in a thick black braid of hair. The woman was wearing a pink dress, with white lace decorating it. It was something Milo had seen his little sister wear before to tea parties. Clearly it wasn't meant for the woman wearing it, and someone had forced it on, likely after she died.

However, Milo was still perplexed about smiles on the victims. Until he shined his flashlight on the back wall.

He gasped a little, stepping back before turning around to recollect his thoughts. There were more red words on the wall. This time it said in big capital letters. 'FOREVER HAPPY'. From what it sounded like, it applied to the doll-people things.

Milo rubbed his face again before running a hand through his hair. This whole thing was an absolute mess. 

A few minutes past in silence, and something made Milo's blood run cold. 

Something was touching his neck.