Bloody Mary The Doll Novels & Stories

Something or someone had to knock some sense into him and the one that did finally came into his life. Mary Rose arrived; she was a zombie needle-freak. She was like a whirlwind that blew inside the bar—everyone immediately took notice. She walked leisurely towards the bar and sat on a spare stool beside Trevor. On the surface, she looked like the prototypical Goth girl: tar-black hair with streaks of sky blue, black eye shadow and lipstick, body-hugging light grey tank top, dark grey mini skirt with fishnet stockings on her long legs. Her left arm was fully tattooed. Her skin was as white as sheet but only increased her allure. She also had a thing for zombies, which was how the three of th

Mary smirked from beside me. The doll that resembled a certain blond girl sat in my hand. Dressed neatly with even her outfit in place. I couldn’t help, but share a smirk with Mary. This goal of bring Clover down was more for the purpose of me. Someone could say I was obsessed more with taking this model down, but it was more about wanting her life. I needed it. Mary knew it too and she was tired with working for a selfish bimbo who could care less about her career.

The chattering and the sound of a bell being rung jolted my body awake. My eyes fluttered open slowly, my gaze darted around until it settled on the women dressed in houppelande embroidered with gold pearls, while others wore shiny silk. And the men wore doublets and fur-lined cloaks. My toes curled as the wave of cold air made me shiver. I tried to move my feet, but I couldn't. That was when I realized my hands were chained with heavy locks. And this only meant... “SOLD!!” The word echoed all over the room. My eyes widened as they snapped to the center of the stage. The reality crashed into me like a train.

Tina's breath caught when she thought of poor Martha, a victim of a projectile that wasn't, with no doubt at all, tipped with sticky rubber. The second figure was a doll. Her face was startlingly realistic, with big blue eyes that Tina could easily imagine turning in their sockets to look at her. The doll wore a cowgirl uniform, complete with boots and a wide-brimmed hat that was topped with a plastic star, painted to look like shiny tin. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled into messy pigtails, like those a child would have created. One of her porcelain hands rested on the bow's leather grip, as though carefully placed there.

Mary held her hands and asked Helma if it was because of Clara she has made this decision, but Helma nodded no. Helma took another sip of her juice and opened up to Mary. She told Mary about yesterday's event, how she met Kelvin and how Donald interfered and has refused to say anything to her since yesterday. Mary smiled softly and held her hands. "Can you tell you a story?" Mary asked Helma who nodded. "There were two friends who were so fond of each other, one day they got a doll. It was the latest edition and they both got the one each. One day, one of them choosed to leave her doll outside without caring for it because she saw a new edition on a billboard.

I tried to console him, “Hey, hey. Calm down, okay? It’s alright. We can always go back to the temple and get you another one.” “No! The doll and I are connected! I can feel what happens to it!” “Connected?” I cleared my throat, “Just because you’re handsome doesn’t mean I’ll believe everything that comes out of your mouth, dude.” “No! You don’t get it! I can actually feel everything that’s done to the doll!” I smiled and calmed myself before replying, “I told you the doll was weird, didn’t I? So, what happened to it?” “I gave it away. I gave it to one of the more handsome ones when we were at the park yesterday.”

But he didn’t say no either so that means he agrees to go with me ^___^ *** I just left Lucifer inside his car as I roam around the toy store, trying to find the robot and the doll that my siblings been asking me. The robot that Hercules wants is the one that could bend the parts of its body and turn it into a car. That’s been really famous among kids lately and Hercules had always been telling that to me. Meanwhile, the one that Mary wants is a doll that has many dresses too. A doll that has a long hair like me and the one that has its own house. Upon walking around the whole toy store, I finally able to find the doll that Mary wants. It costs about 150$, just enough for us to be able to bu

The tape came off easily — almost too easily — and when I lifted the lid, a faint metallic scent hit me. Not paper. Not ink. Something thicker. My fingers froze. Inside wasn’t a stack of invitation cards. It was a small porcelain doll — or what used to be one. Its white dress was soaked in something dark, reddish-brown, and sticky. Dried blood. The face was cracked, eyes painted wide open in a chilling stare. And nestled beside it was a single black rose. The petals were fresh, glistening faintly — and its stem was covered in sharp, untrimmed thorns.

Sara shouted, jumping up and down as she pleaded for Callum to open up the present she got him. "Fine." He laughed, as he unwrapped the gift. When he opened it, I was shocked to see that it was a black barbie doll with, long curly hair. "Uhh thank you?" Callum said, staring down at the doll. "The barbie is Dylan, so you can play with her anytime you miss the real Dylan. And I get to play with her too, only sometimes." Sara had a wide grin on her face as she looked back and forth from me to Callum.

There was a simulated doll in the box. The doll's eyes were gouged out, leaving only a white part. There was a long cut on its stomach, which was sewed with hemp ropes. It was all blood, and its fingers had sharp nails. Baby Doll was too lifelike. No matter how smart Henric was or how bold he was, he was still a child. Seeing such a thing, she was so scared that she screamed.