VOL 1. A collection of bizarre stories

Dolls of Death

***Disclaimer:*** [The following writing excerpt contains graphic and potentially disturbing content. Reader discretion is advised. This passage includes depictions of violence, intense situations, and unsettling imagery. It may not be suitable for all audiences. Please be aware of your own comfort levels before proceeding.]

Trevor's aunt, a woman of undeniable fright, chased after us with a butcher knife. We had encountered her once before, during the somber occasion of her sister's funeral, but that was a different situation. In that horrifying moment, she had made a startling gesture that left us all trembling with fear.

Finally reaching her house in the woods, Sarah, Laura Foils, and I were amazed by the resilience of her dwelling. Despite the earlier brutal storm, her sanctuary stood unscathed. However, our relief was short-lived as the rain began to pour outside. Sarah led us through a dimly lit hallway in the house, where flickering candles cast eerie shadows that danced on the walls. The air grew heavy with an unsettling unease, causing my heart to race.

There was something deeply unsettling about this place, something that sent shivers down our spines. Opening a door, we were confronted by a sight that chilled us to the bone - a bathroom covered in blood, accompanied by the putrid stench of a partially eaten corpse. Despite the horror before us, Laura, always the curious one, bravely stepped forward. Her footsteps echoed through the silence, as if the creaking floorboards were warning her of impending danger. I followed closely behind, our senses heightened as we searched for any clues that could shed light on the terrifying discovery we had just made.

Then, we cautiously stepped into a room bathed in a haunting glow, the scent of old books mingling with the musty air. The walls were adorned with peculiar paintings, their subjects twisted and distorted, their eyes appearing to follow our every move. Suddenly, Trevor's aunt emerged from the door she had just kicked open, surrounded by an eerie light and gripping her butcher knife. A malicious smile crept across her face, as she watched us with an intensity that sent chills down our spines.

As our eyes darted around the room, Sarah's gaze landed on a cracked mirror hanging on the wall. Its surface reflected a distorted version of reality, where our faces appeared as blank shapes with smiley faces on them. However, when Trevor's aunt caught a glimpse of herself, she saw an image of a sinister-looking witch from the depths of hell. Her eyes filled with terror, her mouth twisted in a silent scream. Her heart raced in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the horrifying sight in the mirrors.

Meanwhile, Laura approached a shelf filled with ancient artifacts. Among them were potions, oils, and a box of arrows. I grabbed a bow from the corner of the room and handed it to Laura. She loaded an arrow but missed her shot at Trevor's aunt. Intrigued yet apprehensive, Laura's trembling hands traced the edges of an ornate box. Despite the warning signs, curiosity got the better of her, and she mustered the courage to open it.

Whatever it was, its impact on her was horrifying. Her face collapsed inward, and blood and brains sprayed in all directions. The room was filled with a deafening scream, shattering the fragile calm that had settled upon us. Horrified, I turned to see Sarah writhing in agonizing pain, her body contorting in unnatural ways. She was unable to speak, a victim of the unknown force. Trevor's aunt, wearing a sinister smile, stood motionless, relishing in the terror she had unleashed. The room seemed to close in on me, leaving me alone with her, unsure of what to do. Panic surged through my veins as I desperately tried to escape this nightmare.

Trevor's aunt, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure, slowly approached me, her presence suffocating. She forcefully grabbed my dress and tore it off, leaving only my panties exposed. In a desperate attempt to survive, I raced to an upstairs room, leapt through the window, and fled into the woods, which quickly became a terrifying maze. However, the house had an inexplicable hold on me, pulling me back into Trevor's aunt's nightmare. In my stumbling, I came across a hidden suitcase, sparking a glimmer of hope within me. Inside, I discovered a gun, but exhaustion burned through me. Frantically, I searched for bullets, and to my relief, I found some in a small box. I loaded the gun, my mind clouded by fear.

Just as I aimed the gun at her head, she vanished. Confused, I turned around, only to be met with a sudden grip on my neck. Trevor's aunt's hands squeezed tightly, cutting off my breath.

Trevor's aunt's laughter reverberated in my ears, a haunting melody that would forever haunt me. Without hesitation, I swung my arm, tightly grasping the gun, and fired at her. "Now who's trapped, 'bitch!'" I exclaimed, a newfound confidence surging within me. I tapped into my inner strength, determined to overcome this nightmare.

Traversing the room, I carefully maneuvered around Sarah, who now hung upside down from the ceiling like a cocoon. The darkness enveloped me, but I pressed on with unwavering resolve. I could sense the presence of something else, something otherworldly lurking nearby. It fed off my fear and desperation, its existence palpable. Each step forward, I felt its hot breath on my neck, but I refused to succumb to its influence. With determination, I escaped from that place, never once looking back.

I pushed forward, determined to traverse the woods. This time, there was no unseen force pulling me back. As I arrived at the old willows pass bridge, my path was obstructed by Sarah and Laura, their white, egg-shaped faces staring at me. Though I couldn't be certain, they wore the same clothes as earlier when we arrived in the hiace van. Panic filled my mind, leaving me unsure of what to do. Every fiber of my being seemed to be covered in goosebumps.

Approaching the figures, I discovered that they were made of pillows, not real girls. Trembling, I reached for the pocket knife I had found along with the gun back at the house. With the knowledge that they were mere dolls, I stabbed Sarah first, followed by Laura. Unfamiliar emotions surged through me, coursing through my veins. Suddenly, the dolls came to life, speaking with malevolence. "We are going to get you, Francine, hahaha." I could feel their malicious intent, causing me to retreat. However, Sarah's grip on my wrist remained strong, refusing to let go. I grew weaker with each passing moment.

But then, a surge of courage washed over me. I attempted to scratch Sarah's face, desperate to break free from her grasp, but to no avail. The surface of their heads was solid and glossy.

I glanced down the trail and spotted Trevor approaching in his rusty blue pick-up truck. However, upon closer inspection, I realized there was no driver behind the wheel. Laura's wicked smile caught my attention, triggering something within me - perhaps instinct. Suddenly, I managed to break free from Sarah's grip and began stabbing the pillows that represented the egg-faced figures. Their faces fell to the ground near the bridge, and I kicked them into the water below. Finally, their wicked smiles were washed away, a sight they desperately needed.

Filled with adrenaline, I sprinted towards the truck, started the ignition, and drove it back to the LBGT Bus where we had parked earlier that day. As I arrived, I discovered that the windows of the bus had been shattered and vandalized. Someone had written the words "die LBGT" on the white surface of the bus.