Dolls

“This one?” The demon delicately plucked a porcelain head from the wire box using only the very tips of its claws. Still they scratched thin lines up the dollbaby’s cheek. 

“Yeah. That’s the one.” The lizard demon flicked its tongue out, tasting the air around the head. Both nictitating membranes slid over his eyes with a papery sigh, reflecting his excitement. 

Together they strolled past racks and bins of human toys in various states of dismemberment. “Gremlins brought it in a couple days ago. Real fresh. From their jabber I get the impression that the kid was really attached to it.” The red giant chuckled at his own joke before continuing, “Good choice. Lots of potential there.” At the cash register he rang up the purchase, then gently wrapped the remnant in parchment and tied it with a length of sinew. “That’ll be six bones and two eyes.”

The lizard quickly paid and raced home to relish his purchase. He set it on the kitchen counter while he prepared his supper, stopping to stare and sniff at it every once in a while. He ate slowly, deliberately dragging out the anticipation, and forced himself to clean the kitchen afterward. Finally he took the delicacy into his bedroom.

“Oh, you are going to be a treat, aren’t you? I knew as soon as I found your scent.” He sighed contentedly, growling deep in his chest. Lying on his bed he raised the tiny cranium to his scaly lips and delicately licked. The dry tongue rasped against the empty eye sockets and he groaned. “Oh, oh yes. You are good, little girl.” He licked again, more forcefully, curling the forked tips around the back, probing the holes where a few remnants of silken hair remained. “Mmmmm. So sweet. You are mine, now. Mine.” He growled and bared fangs which he scraped across the gaping neck, chipping the porcelain and swallowing the shards lustily. His excitement grew and he rolled over, slavering his mouth all over the smooth round dollhead, grunting and sucking noisily.

The child’s screams woke her parents. It was her silence that brought them running. 

She was unresponsive in the few days before she died. Nothing brought her back, although sometimes she would writhe and scream and tear out chunks of her own hair. Mostly, though, she just lay with her eyes open and stared like a little porcelain doll.




For the second year I am participating in a month of daily writing prompts in the Nightmare Fuel community of G+. I probably won't write every day, and much will be dreck, but I enjoy the challenge and some of these stories may someday lead to something.