Lugubrious
Izurich
Yankee
rush99999The Doll House
Word Count: 1827 (+3)
Papyrus@Dark Cloud Frisk@Majoras End
The pair made their way out of the village, The Fallen Child and their Skeleton Friend taking a sort trek through the snow before again finding their was to the disquieting forest of hanging dolls. As they made their way through the woods a slight breeze coming from the direction of Treat's manor home rattled the branches, causing the dolls to sway back and forth. They knocked into the branches and one another, creating a sound like wooden windchimes. Occasionally they would hear a fragile crack and a piece of ancient porcelain would clatter to the ground,. A bit of once rosy cheek, a small curled finger, and ear. Though it hadn't been the most wonderful of scenery the first the first time they had been through the wood, the sight had been joined by an oppressive air that seemed to cling to Frisk as they walked.
Finally they reached the bottom of the steps that led to the mansion, Linkle's weapon laden sled sitting at the base of a tree nearby. They were about to start up when suddenly they heard the sound of a gate flying open and crashing wildly against the the stones. Treat appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later, panic driving her leg as she took the steps one, two, three at a time, before spotting the two of them at the bottom. She stumbled in surprise, slipping of a step and pitching forward and tumbling down the steps toward the two.
Whether the result was a crash or a catch didn't seem to matter to the wolf girl. "Linkle...." She puffed out, scrambling up and flinching away from the skeleton she registered all too suddenly, before pointing up. "Help! There's a...it's a...."
"It's just a weird doll." Linkle said, stepping closer to the odd thing lying on the table as Treat poked her head in from the doorway. It was an odd thing, to be sure. A limp and lifeless thing laid out like a corpse on a slab, the head and face so detailed that if it weren't for the clearly puppet like joins and finely polished yet clearly wooden body you could almost mistake it for a real woman in the dim light. At least she was half decent, but the cloth wrap actually served to make her more creepy. Like she had something to hide, carved under there. Treat approached as Linkle lifted up one of the arms to wave at her.
"Please Stop. I don't like that thing." Treat said as though she were imposing something on the other girl, and Linkle obediently let the hand flop back down on the table. They had been everywhere in this basement save this one room, a room that Treat had introduced as "the body room." She had never taken more than a cursory glance in here, spotting the doll lying on the table and booking it for greener pastures the moment she did. When she had told Linkle about it the Skullgirl had been so sure it was the cause of the haunting, but it was just another doll.
While they had been down here Linkle had tried everything she could think of to lure out the ghost or the evil haunting this place. She had shouted challenges, pretended to be lost, shut off her lantern and pretended they were just some poor damsels in distress. She had pushed a few boxes around even, hoping that if she looked like she was on the verge of solving a puzzle the thing would get spooked and try to stop her. Nothing. They had heard the occasional groan from inside the wall, but it was no human groan. Treat had been right, it was just the sound of wood moving around.
Linkle sat up on the table, scooching the doll back. "It looks like your house is one hundred percent ghost free." She said, hands cupped on her cheeks.
"How terrible." Treat said, trying to hide that she didn't share her new friends disappointment.
"It is. That means it's just creepy. I can't fix that by kicking it. And if the others don't manage to sway those dumb rabbits, you're gonna have to stay here, in a place you don't like." Suddenly, an idea flashed in her brain. "I've got it. Why don't you come stay with me? There's two beds in my room, its nice and warm, and I've got my own shower!"
"It's all right." Treat said, backing up a step with a blush coating her cheeks. "You guys have done more than enough already. I couldn't, you'd be targeted because of me. They don't treat...'traitors' well."
"Oh, who gives a hoot!" Linkle said. "Ask Mr. Grillby what happened to me just yesterday and then try to tell me I should be worried about some rabbits." Linkle hopped off the table, brimming with confidence. "Besides Albedo and his dog are right next door." She said enticingly, sweetening the pot.
Treat considered momentarily. She did love that dog, and she hadn't had a bath in a good long while. "I...I..." She stuttered as Linkle leaned forward in anticipation.
Whatever her answer, it was suddenly cut off by a sound that made both girls turn to look. A long, slow, creeeeeek of hinges as the door to the left of them swung open. Linkle stepped in front of Treat, holding her lantern above her as she started into the black abyss beyond the door, the frosted glass that made up the wall it was set into reflecting the light and rendering them impenetrable as walls. Linkle stepped forward. Treat reached out and grabbed her cloak weakly between her fingers, her eyes flicking between the door in the wall and the one they had entered the room through. Linkle reached back, squeezed her hand once, and then slit the wolf girls grip off of her. "Remember." She said, confidently. "I'm really good at this." Unmoored, the skullgirl stepped forward just as Treat's nose started to twitch.
"Hello?" Linkle called, seping up the the empty doorframe ready to lash out at whatever grim visage emerged from the darkness. Suddenly movment, something small poping out around the frame of the door. Like a glove, or an over mitt, something grabbing the doorway to help it emerge. She jumped back.
"Bojure!" said the dirty little puppet peeking out from behind the doorframe. It was made of dirty sackcloth, it's featured rendered crudely in one looked like charcoal. It's voice was high and oddly cute as it spike, turning its little head to look at them, it's body set low enough to hide whatever arm was puppeting it. Linkle was once again flummoxed by something that hadn't attacked her first, and wasn't sure whether to start kicking or not at the diminutive looking thing.
Treat spoke up for her. "Are you the gh..gh..ghost?" She asked, lips trembling.
The little thing spread its arms, somehow looking offended with its charcoal face. "Oh, Non, non, non! I am no ghost. I am Pol. It is a pleasure to meet you at last."
This isn't a ghost.
"This isn't a ghost." A more trustworthy voice whispered in Linkle's ear. Treat stood there, voice low, softly sniffing. "I smell sweat."
Linkle tried to peer again through the cloudy glass separating them from whoever or whatever was controlling Pol, but got little other than the vague impression of a shadow. A place where the darkness was thicker and more defined. Whatever it was, it was better than any of the puppet shows that came though the village. The voice of Pol was coming directly from Pol. It was good enough to make you forget. "IS this your house, Pol?" She asked.
"Non." The puppet said sadly, shaking from side to side. "My house is beautiful. This place is decaying, and the dolls. The dolls! They are so listless and still. I hated it, but I could not leave. I can not bare to face the outside world." Linkle was almost moved by the palpable despair, the shattered loneliness in that voice, but the tide of of sympathy was dammed when Treat brought up something she hadn't considered.
"How do you know what the rest of the house looks like?" Treat asked, clearly dreading the answer.
Pol paused, tilting its little head to look at her curiously. "I've been watching. You've heard me, haven't you? The walls of the house are so spacious and wide. Burning toys from your little catalogue, playing with your cute dog, even the little party the four of you had. It warms my heart to see you so happy." Treat took a step back as the puppet continued. "Lonely little doll, do not be frightened. I would never harm you. You would never have known I was there. Come, stay and continue dancing for me."
The puppets pleading, though, had the opposite of the intended effect. Treat shook her head vigorously, and the puppet lowered its chin in disappointment. It let out a sigh, and as its spoke its next words its pitch suddenly lowered into a breathy, deep, demonic tone like wind being manually squeezed from its lungs to make the words. "Oh, my little doll. Why? Why would you run away from home? I will teach you good manners." As it spoke the arm began to slide around the doorframe, thin yet sinewy and bulging with lean muscles. Far too long to be a mans. "By disassembling."
That was enough for Linkle. She charged forward, leaping at the arm and delivering a flying kick at the puppet. The arm slithered back like a snake, catching Pol on the doorframe and dropping him to the floor. There was a sound of something big moving on the other side of the glass, something trying to get away. Linkle charged in, lantern high to catch him, but Treat shouted to her. "Linkle, stop. He didn't move!" She said, nose still twitching.
Linkle was barely into the doorway, turning to check the other side, when that arm reached down from the ceiling and grabbed her by the ears as though he were pulling a rabbit of of a hat. Treat watched as the arm lifted the skullgirl into the air and threw her deeper into the darkness of the room, the lantern falling from her hands and shattering against the floor. In the still dim light she watched some giant, orangutan like thing drop from the ceiling and bound after her, arms raised over its head. There was a smash as it disappeared into the darkness, almost simultaneous with a pained grunt from the unseen skullgirl. There was more smashing, the mad scramble of blows against flesh, and then a crackle as lightning emitted from Linkle's boots and lit up the whole room. They were caught in gruesome tableau for a moment, Linkle planting a boot right into the solar plexus of a...a man. A gangly disturbing man, flesh pale and balding save for a few sorry clumps of hair. He was easily three times Linkle's size, his limbs distended unnaturally. He wore a tattered pair of brown trousers, the cloth of which was eerily familiar to the cloth Pol had been constructed from. He reared back, a scream of agony that sounded like a whirlwind escaping his elongated, squashed face before the lightning cut out.
There was a meaty smack and Linkle came flying back into the light of Treat's lantern. She kipped up, breathing heavily, eyes confident. "I've got him right where I want him." She said, then turned to treat. "You've gotta get out of here, though."
"What abut the light!?" Treat asked, nearly panicking.
The man emerged into the room, arm swiping at Treat. She screamed, but Linkle moved up an managed to block the blow with her leg before it could reach her. Going into a spin she lashed out with her leg, the toe erupting into flames as it made contact with his face. The man staggered back, letting out another airy scream. "I've got my own." Linkle said, but Treat still hesitated. "I'll be right behind you." She assured. "My weapons are at the bottom of the stairs. If you want to help, meet me at the ladder with them. Go!" She gave Treat a rough shove in the direction of the way out and the wolfgirl ran, relying on her memory and the smell of the storage shed to guide her. The sounds of combat, somewhere out there in the dark, pushed her along.
This story, in short, is what the wolf girl frantically relayed to the duo. "I have to get ARGGHHH!" She said, collapsing just as she took a step toward the sled and its armaments'. She looked back at her legs only to find a twisted ankle from her fall. She punched the ground in frustration before looking up at the two. "Please. Please help."