Dollhouse Unfinished Novels & Stories

as he forced his feet to cross the threshold. Inside, he could plainly see the reason for her lack of coloration and her resistance to the light. It was nearly pitch-black inside except for the flickers of a dying fire. The curtains were thick and drawn tightly, and as she shut the door behind him, he couldn’t help but feel as one might upon finding oneself in the bottom of a grave while still alive. The room was a disaster from what he could tell in the dimness, with paint and doll parts littering a table near the fire, a few chairs here and there, and discarded materials skittered across the floor. The remnants of dirty dishes covered the table and parts of the floor as well, and he notice

The sight made her smile. Harper noticed immediately. "You love him." Daisy nearly choked on her drink. "Harper." "What?" "Stop." "You didn't deny it." Daisy looked away. Which was answer enough. Harper's grin widened. "Oh my God." "Please stop talking." "No." Later that afternoon the treehouse was finally finished. Or at least finished enough for Theo. The children immediately climbed inside. Noah collapsed into a chair. Roman looked equally exhausted. Theo appeared moments later.

The video player initialized with a soft, digitized hum. High-definition footage flooded the screen, displaying the master bedroom in a completely different configuration. The room was pristine and entirely devoid of human occupancy. Heavy canvas dust sheets covered the massive four-poster bed and the antique mahogany vanity. "Zero occupants," I observed aloud. "The sector was under construction." I watched the digital clock in the bottom corner fast-forward through the daylight hours. Estate maids entered and exited the frame, removing the sheets and arranging the heavy furniture into its current layout. "You constructed this specific cage explicitly for my dimensions," I whispered, tracing

The sink was crammed with dishes, the air sour and stale. She wasn't the radiant Janet anymore. Just a lonely, unkempt old woman who couldn't manage on her own. Gray streaks took over her hair. Her clothes hadn't been washed in forever. Yesterday, the electricity shut off. That night, every other apartment glowed. Hers stayed dark. She stood there realizing she had no clue how to top up the utility card. In the pitch-black apartment, she felt her way to the bedroom and slammed into the wardrobe. Only after Harlan disappeared did it hit her—order didn't happen by magic. A clean, quiet home took work. Constant work.

The plates touched the sink just as Julian laid down his glass with soft thud. "I'm sure I asked a question?" His eyes locked in with her figure, she felt the sting from it and the monster in him awakened. The Sandersons lived in a huge mansion. Huge enough that each compartment seemed like a little mansion of its own... With a large living room, kitchen, bedroom, closet, bathroom, even a little storage area. And right in their own compartment, her back crashed hard against the dining table. Screaming meant death. She bit back the pain. Hot tears filled her eyes.

We’d grown up quickly, and survival was the name of the game. The game had left Hawk bitter and stupid. It left me cautious yet independent, stubborn, and fucking unwilling to be taken advantage of. “Holy shit,” I muttered when I pulled up to the curb outside The Dollhouse. The entire building was at least three stories high, the red-brick industrial exterior making it look like it belonged somewhere down by the docks. There were no windows, no tacky neon signs—no signs at all. It was like it was just known as the premier gentlemen’s club in LA by sheer will alone.

The kind you keep when you don’t want anything out of place because out of place means out of control. A couch that looked barely sat on. A kitchen that looked barely used. A small stack of mail on the counter, unopened. And walls, so many blank walls. No photos. No clutter. No evidence that anyone had ever laughed here. Dawson shut the door and turned the deadbolt, then, after a beat, latched a second lock above it. Not theatrically. Just… automatically. My throat tightened. “I can go,” I said, because the quiet made my voice sound too loud.

"Babe, here's our new place! It's in the city center and a school district, with over 1,000 square feet. It has two units per floor. We don't have a neighbor yet, so the hallway is all ours. The lighting's great, and it has the best layout in the complex. Plus, it's just 100 yards from your work. If you want, you can move in now. Furniture and appliances are ready!" The group marched up to the east-side unit—and froze. The house wasn't just empty; it didn't even have doors or windows. Even a hallway light bulb was gone. Sue turned on her heel. "Hmph! You expect me to renovate this dump? Well, I'm not getting married until you fix this house. And my name has to go on the deed!" Eleanor was fu

"Not a firm. Someone private. They went to the address Sarah had registered before she moved here. Found an empty cottage and nothing useful. But he's looking, Maya. And he's looking in the direction you came from." "Then we go before he looks in the right direction," I said. I turned back to the blueprint. The fourteenth floor. His floor, unfinished, the structure exposed. I thought about the eight years I had spent in rooms Daniel considered finished. The apartment where the hook by the door went unused every evening. The restaurant where he proposed to Claire while I sat alone on an examination table in a paper gown. Daniel built for the finished surface. He always had. He never paid much

Quite dusty and looks dull. It's been a long time since it's been occupied, the Dazzle family's home. Helena misses her family, in her illustration Helena can see two children playing with dolls together, a doll specially made by her mother, the doll is made from leaves that are knitted and made special. Selena got a doll with a pretty horrible face, it was because Helena didn't like the doll, Selena finally relented. However, mistakes actually become a threat.