Heathers Doll Novels & Stories

Crackers, maybe? Heart pounding, I peeled the velvet back. Underneath: a few chunks of hardtack and half a protein bar. I froze. Stared at the girl on the bed, still playing dead. She was faking. But why? What was she trying to pull? Did Ms. Deinert know? I looked at her perfect, peaceful face—and felt pure horror. She wasn't some helpless victim. She was a monster.

"Haha! So dumb! Of all people, she had to pick a fight with Aria, the Headless Girl, one of the Four Bosses." "This idiot just broke two of the boss' taboos in one go. She's as good as dead now." "She didn't let Aria have her candy and mentioned her parents. Haha! Even God can't save her!" I couldn't see the audience's mockery, but I could tell things were about to get real bad. I watched as the baby doll morphed into a terrifying, monstrous version of herself. I froze up again. My legs went stiff as my mind raced. "Has no one told this doll her neck's spurting blood like a fountain of pee?"

Thunders can be heard. "A Heatherian never leaves their own kind behind!" Ms. Anthea shouted. "WE ARE HEATHERIANS! WE FIGHT WITH ALL OUR MIGHT! WE WON'T LET YOU RISE UP HIGH! UNTIL WE DIE!" Everyone shouted at once before attacking. "Yow guys!" Both Drake and I looked up. There we saw the princes and princesses, riding their creatures made of their charms. "Hop on!" Said by Prince Neo, who's riding a fire dragon. I reached for his hand and rode behind him. "Hold tight!" He said and patted his fire dragon. It spread its wings and flew away.

Heather Satchell was the female entrepreneur who was seeking medical treatment. Dr. Watte was afraid that Sienna would be unclear about the situation, so he deliberately explained, “Heather is a famous and successful career woman. In the early years after Heather divorced her husband, she worked hard from having nothing to establishing half of the entertainment venues in Isonbert in order to win custody of her daughter.”

Heather stood dumbfounded, "you can't do this to me! I am Heather Banks, I will not be treated like this, a stupid little she-wolf will not unseat me!" I heard snarls, I looked to Delmor thinking it was him, to my surprise, Luna Adina had grabbed Heather, holding her by the throat. "That is my niece you are talking about, one more word out of you and I will gladly rip you to shreds." She looked poised to shift at any moment. I could feel Aura as she entered the room. I turned to see her, she was wearing sweatpants, her favorite tank top, and of course, her pink slippers. She was watching from the doorway.

At the end of my life, this means something. But then Heather appears behind the Silver Hunter, a palm-sized, circular talisman in her hand. She jumps onto him and presses it against his neck. He shrieks as if he's on fire and goes to bat her away, but it's like he doesn't have the strength. He slumps to the ground, unconscious. I'm stunned for a moment, wondering how Heather managed to take down such a powerful opponent. Heather grabs my arm. "Come on, let's go!"

The body as he imagined it to be, with small, natural, and firm breasts, with perfect curves and hips sculpted by God himself. His cock presses against the zipper of his pants, and he opens it and frees the trapped monster. The woman's screams on the TV are torn into Saphira's moans. The woman's vulgar air was now the “next-door neighbor” appearance of Saphira, whom he loved so much.

But for now, she would wait. Meanwhile, back at Mihir’s house, Heather stood in front of her mirror, smoothing out the fabric of the elegant dress she had chosen. It was a soft, flowing gown in a deep shade of blue, complementing her complexion perfectly. “You look beautiful, ma’am,” Marryanne said from behind her. Heather met her gaze in the mirror and forced a small smile. “Thank you.” But inside, she felt anything but beautiful. She felt like a doll, dressed up and presented for display. She knew exactly what today was about—an act, a performance to keep up appearances.

Heather’s POV I sit on the soft bed, gazing around the luxurious room. The antique furniture, the opulent bed, the elegant drapes, plush carpets, and the fireplace in the bedroom—it all feels surreal. I slip into soft slippers and walk around, exploring the space. A bookshelf catches my eye, and in the corner, a cozy writing desk. This all feels so unreal. Opening the wardrobe, I find clothes that fit me perfectly, along with shoes, bags, makeup, and hairstyling tools. Everything I could ever need is here, waiting for me.

ANNIE Yes, it's me. I'm Dylan Xavier's toy, his milkweed, the one he'd fuck so hard that she would scream, but yet couldn't scream. I was the one. I ran into his room not bothering to catch my breath, I was in danger. The only thing God could do for me was to damn that disgusting man that made a scene. He could have just left me. Or I could have obeyed... As I removed my dress to wear something casual, Dylan came in, the look on his face spoke anger. “Dy…”