The Doll Maker's Curse [Completed]

TDMM: Chapter 1

"Remember... Life is a game and you are just my pawn. Without me and this game we play you would be nothing; defying my orders is defying life itself. Do you want that...?" Satan sung, twirling and spinning. I couldn't understand why he had to steal the aesthetics of the girl. I think he was testing my limits...'

Middle ages:

Blood. It was everywhere...

On the walls, the floor, her pale body… It covered her opened, eviscerated chest where her once internal organs, had spewed out. Dark brown hair twirled down her front; a few strands stuck together with her drying blood.

Strewn across the walls like decorations were her disfigured insides, blood tracing into dark patterns across the small brick cottage.

He stared down at her eyes... No, the bloody holes filled with thick, bloody gore that used to hold her amazing, blue eyes. Her usual smile was still painted across her crimson lips; as if she was pleased to be dead.

Who had done this....?

“My little girl…”

He ran to his daughter’s side, lifting her head off the dirty floor.

"Who did this to you? WHO?!" he screamed; pressing her tiny body against his. The blood smeared onto his black smith wear and tanned skin.

He cradled her, swinging backwards and forwards and singing to her like he did every night. ‘Sing me to sleep’ she would say. He would smile and sing to her until her breathing slowed and her eyes fluttered closed.

Little did he know that the prior night was the last time he would ever sing her tiny mind into slumber. If he had known he would have sung her favourite lullaby; hugged her close and made sure that she would never forget how much he loved her... He didn't get the chance.

He stroked his daughter’s head lovingly, hushing her as if she was crying into his familiar arms. It was him though, hushing her to soothe his own disbelief. He could not believe it... His beautiful daughter was dead. Murdered.

Murder.

The word tickled his tongue; dancing behind his lips. Murder? Why would anyone kill his precious little girl? Did they envy her, or had he done something to make another seek revenge?

The final thought ran out of his twisted mind and he slammed her head back onto the dirt, where she would soon be buried. He could not control his burning rage. It engulfed him entirely and turned him red with anger.

A painful tear slowly sliced down his dirty cheek as a strange howl escaped his dry lips. His feet carried him away and he stormed out of the house blinded with tears tinged with guilt. His grief- ridden wife stared wide eyed as he passed, breaking away from her mourning to stare up at her husband. He was lost to her now... He was not the same person to her anymore.

Snatching his work bag, filled with his metal tools, he ran away from his daughters greying corpse arguing; no, pleading with God to bring her back.