Strings

Chapter 7

A narrow stairway that lead to some sort of basement was what lay behind the door, and Jack was busy contemplating to himself whether it had been there before or if it was installed when he left. The room below was completely made with cement and concrete, and no one even bothered to give it a lick of paint, overall giving it a sinister image along with the abandoned and dilapidated one the store above, already had.

 There was a small, littered desk pushed to the corner, filled with paper cut-outs and other clippings. Three wooden shelves nailed to the wall above the desk, stored several large-eyed dolls, the ones that could close their eyes when they were made to lay down. There were large spools collected near the desk, where tattered strings were loosely hanging from. Headless and arm-less mannequins stood at the other corner, and lying on the floor below them, were several cut wood blocks, shaped finely into arms and legs, and boxes filled with cloths of all kind, filled the floor.

 Unlike Sister Princesses, who specifically specialized in toy dolls, Gordon's Toy Emporium, handled a wide variety of toys. Anyone could tell by the word 'emporium' in the name. Which made Jack wonder why a basement filled with equipment meant for doll-making was here, where it hadn't been before.

 "When did they start making their own dolls?" Jack asked himself as he went over to the desk. He looked down at the clippings lying amongst themselves. When Jack slightly moved them, he found that they were photographs. "Of dolls." He observed with an odd voice, seeing some of the pictures were that of the ones on the shelf. "Weird." He voiced out, turning around, and found another door, hidden behind the mannequins. "It's like I'm in some sort of xxxxxx horror RPG game." Jack groaned, moving the mannequins away to get to the door.

 Before he managed to turn the knob, he noticed that there were crooked scratches along the side. "They sure made it as horrifying as they could." And he went in. This time, the room looked like a studio. There were lots of fill lights at both corners on the side of the door; an empty tripod was in the center of the room, probably meant for a camera; and very unusually, there was a suspension rig, similar to the murder contraption used in that horror film Dennis Quaid starred in. It was placed around the bed with a mattress that spelled rot and fester in all languages.

 For a moment, a sudden chill went through Jack's spine. The room looked like it was used for some sick torture xxxx or something. Luckily, though, he noticed that the suspension rig, was holding strings, which made him realize that this room must've been used as a studio for the dolls that they made. "Also explains the pictures." Jack mused, relief oddly gushing out of him in a small sigh, even though some part of him was finding the entire set-up vaguely disturbing. But for now he was sure that he wasn't in a real-life, made parody of Child's Play.

 Jack went around the bed, looking at the suspension rig with a mild intrigue. "Pretty smart." He said to himself, ignoring the fact that he had been speaking to himself ever since he got to the store. Using a rig to manipulate the doll instead of the usual manual x-shaped block of wood. "Future of doll--Whoa! xxxx!" Jack cried, stepping on a bump on the floor and nearly slipping, had he not braced himself--albeit painfully-against the wall. "What the hell.." Very gently, Jack knelt down to peer under the bed. What he saw, surprised him.

 It was a female doll, though Jack couldn't see much of its detail since it was covered with so much dust and dirt it practically had grey skin. The doll was lying on its' side, its head with its' messy--from the looks of it--long, ashen blonde hair, sprawled in a dirty yellow mess on the floor. Its eyes, which were a clear hue of blue, was looking right back at Jack in what he could almost discern as inquiry. Reaching out, Jack grabbed the doll by its', oddly warm wrist, and pulled it out.

 As he straightened up, Jack now held the doll by its waist, beginning to observe it very carefully. It was child-height, probably would stand up to Jack's hips. There were standard, wooden string harnesses in place of the elbows and knees. He surveyed the darkened, white dress loosely hanging on its' body, thinking how silky and soft the material was even though it was completely worn through and aged. "You're a pretty one." Jack stated.

 He wiped his hand gently across the doll's face to get a better look at it. Indeed, it was a pretty-looking doll. Not terrifying or suspenseful like Chuckie or his deranged wife. Jack was most especially entranced by the realistic look of her eyes. It almost felt like as though he were holding a real person. The doll was still in operable shape, it just needed a bit of cleaning, and a new dress. "Looks like you're coming home with me." Jack announced in almost a gleeful tone. Propping the doll to sit on the bed, Jack turned around to go back to the other room, with the intention of looking through the piles of boxes to see if he could salvage some to make a new dress for the doll.

 When Jack was going through them, though, there was a faint sound of shuffling. Like cloth against cloth. It was very faint, so he went on looking through the boxes, already having found several cloths he could use. But when another sound, this time the sound of wood falling against concrete, rang much loudly in Jack's ears, he spared the effort to whip his head back around to the door behind him. It wasn't his imagination. And to top it off, the sound of someone grunting with difficulty, was now floating in Jack's ears.

 Val was still upstairs, he knew. Fact, she even called to him, to say that she was going to drive to the nearest junk shop with the few boxes she already had outside with her. And Jack watched her as she drove away. So he knew, that there was only him in the store.
 Slowly, he stood up from his place on the floor and approached the door to the studio room where the sound was coming from. He nervously placed his hand against the door, his mind trying to stay calm and at the same time thundering with irrational thoughts. As swift as he could, he flew the door open, almost-nearing breathless as he did.

 He surveyed the room. Everything was where it was. Still the same as it had been a few moments before he left it. Except for one thing. The doll that he left sat on the bed, wasn't there anymore. Before he could even have a moment to ponder on that, a hard grip suddenly came crashing on Jack's foot. "xxxx!!" He almost shrieked, this time, instantly falling to the floor. He raised his head to look down at his legs, and to his horror, the same head of dirtied blonde hair was there, staring hard at him in the eye. For a moment, there was a long silence, and none moved for individual reasons. And then the doll blinked her eyes, and she smiled. "Hi."