Sinister Dolls Novels & Stories

Chapter 1 The room was gloomy and dimly lit. The only beam of light in the darkness came from the screen of the Television. Nestled in my usual chair, my eyes rested on the flickering screen of the big box. On the screen of the box was a girl, staring at three traditional african dolls, all of them were dressed in white gowns. One was burned to a crisp, the second was only scorched on one side and the third was untouched by the flames. The girl reached out her hand and picked up the doll that had not been burned. She smiled down on it and caressed its cheek. The doll had eyes that seemed to sparkle. I stared in horror as the sparkly eyes suddenly warped into a bloody red. The doll cackled fi

He stands there in his shirt-sleeves, his chest heaving, his face contorted with a strange mix of hunger and deep-seated fear. And then I see three creatures so terrifying that I nearly fall to the ground in shock. They are tall, their bodies draped in tattered silks that move as if underwater. Their faces are masks of polished porcelain, devoid of eyes or mouths. “Who are they?” “The dark mistresses of the Seculum.” Myra responds. “The one on the right is the Mother of Shadows, the middle is the Mother of Sin and the left is the Mother of Suffering.”

Though they were not ordinary faces, these were the faces of the things both Darkous and his demon feared the most; these were the faces of dolls. All Darkous could see were the dead eyes of strategically placed manikins, each staring directly back at him. Panic and anger erupted in Darkous’ gut, the sound of his breath echoing in the crystal white room. The demon spoke louder than it ever had before, almost shouting in his ear. “Kill them! Kill them all!”

“He hung me up, I think. My throat’s been weird this whole morning. I thought I was coming down with something, but it felt kind of suffocating? So I think the doll probably got hung from something.” “Like those sunny dolls? What kind of kink is that?” I frowned and softly touched the doll’s neck. There was a sewing crease there, so it made sense for wrinkles to appear around that area. I could imagine the doll being tied up and hanging like a sunny doll. The more I looked, the more the sight of the crease began to irritate me. It almost looked like someone had wrapped a rope around its neck. I wanted nothing more than to smooth it out.

Meanwhile, in an abandoned factory in the old district, the air was thick with the smell of rust and a sinister, evil aura. Inside the dilapidated factory, moonlight streamed through shattered glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the ground. In the corners, piles of discarded machine parts outlined menacing shapes in the darkness. A small figure appeared silently in the center of the factory—it was the Evil Doll. It had not possessed Brycen's body, but arrived in its original form. Barely half a foot tall, it wore a faded kimono, its face painted with a bizarre red and white makeup. Its eyes were as black as ink, utterly lifeless, yet exuding a chilling, bone-deep coldness.

I flung it from me and it struck the bed with a muted, horrible thud, staring up into the ceiling as though it had been waiting there for me all along. My pulse slammed so hard I thought I might be sick. I clapped my hand over my mouth again, choking down the rest of the sound, and stumbled backward until my shoulders hit the wall. No. No, no, no. The room’s strangeness folded in around me then, and suddenly I was no longer afraid of just Kain. I was afraid of the room itself, of what sort of man kept a thing like that in his private space, of what kind of grief or madness or memory would make a lifelike doll feel normal enough to leave lying there in the dark. “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” I

"Mommy! Mommy!" I grab him by the collar, pulling him back against my ribs while throwing my arm out to block Liora's view as she runs out of the washroom. "Liora, stay back!" I look into the open leather chest, and my stomach violently turns. Inside lies a hand-carved wooden doll of an Alpha pup, its stomach crudely sliced open and stitched together with rusted iron wire, its chest hollowed out and filled with rotting, dried blood. The glass eyes have been gouged from its sockets, leaving gaping, hollow black holes stared straight up at the ceiling, and fixed around its neck is a iron choker bearing the stamped crest of the Nightbane bloodline.

"Our rebellion is already on the move. Surely we don't need to make an enemy of someone who could be a friend when we need her most?" Clever girl. Too clever? Sassafras was brilliant, so it bore out his sister would be, too. But was she manipulating Henemordonin, or me? Ah, cynicism and suspicion. My dear, dear friends. "I believe this threat is as real as the war coming to our people," the little doll demon said. "And thanks to our former Ruler, Sydlynhamitra is the only one who can stop her."

I whispered, and with a nod we slipped inside. The apartment-style suite was weird. The humming coming from an old-fashioned radio on the nightstand, playing some kind of static-filled tune that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on the end. The bed was untouched, the sheets perfectly crisp as if no one had slept in it. But what really caught my eye was the collection of… dolls? “Okay, this is officially creepy,” Laura whispered, her eyes fixed on a shelf lined with porcelain dolls, each one staring ahead. “Let’s get out of here.”

The powerful entity in the shadows seethed with fury. From the blood-red mist emerged terrifying figures, rushing out one after another. These things were puppets. Some were demon beasts, while others were humans. All of them shared a common feature: they were mere skeletons. These skeletons lacked any soul power, their eyes glowing with chilling killing intent. The sight was astonishing. It was hard to fathom how many innocent beings the evil spirit had slain. Even more unimaginable was the sheer number of puppets it controlled, their strength not to be underestimated.