The Fears Within

Delicately Carved

“Let’s go in there!” she exclaimed, pushing the wood door open.

The room they entered was dark and warm. Deep brown, wood paneled walls created a kind of claustrophobic feeling but neither girl minded. There was a fire going on one wall and it felt nice to be out of the cool of the night.

The store turned out to be an antique shop that immediately interested the girls. Lacey wandered through the many items in the store, running her finger over the jewel encrusted tables and delicately carved chairs.

Just as she turned to check out the other wall she bumped into someone.

“Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry,” She stuttered, meeting eyes with the stranger.

The man she had bumped into looked to be a little older than her, with deep black hair and the greenest eyes she had ever seen.

“No, it was my fault. Please forgive me,” He said in a low, melodious voice. His voice held a hint of an old accent but she couldn’t place it.

She blinked, “Um, it’s quite all right.”

He held out his hand, “Alexander. I run this shop.”

“Lacey,” She replied, taking his hand. He kissed her fingers and she blushed, stepping away.

“Your s-store is very… nice,” She stuttered.

Alexander smiled, “Thank you. Is there anything you were looking for?”

“W-well I’m out shopping with my sister, my foster-sister Morgan. It’s my birthday so we were kind of just out… looking,” Lacey finished lamely, looking anywhere but his eyes.

He put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. She immediately froze, powerless, under his gaze and licked her dry lips automatically.

“Let me show you some of my favorite items,” He whispered, steering her to the back of the store.

They walked through a low doorway into a back room that was even darker than the front. Lacey put her arms around herself and stepped inside. Alexander lit an old gas lamp and the room was thrown into sharp relief. Shadows danced across the dark walls and across his face. He smiled at her and pointed to an old clock.

“That was my grandfathers. He made it,” He commented.

“Really?” she asked, confused, “It looks really old.”

Alexander grinned, “My grandfather was really old.” He didn’t explain further.

Lacey turned and walked away from him, across the room and lightly touched a high-backed chair carved with numerous, what looked like, biblical images. There was the Garden of Eden. On the arm was what appeared to be the arc filled with numerous animals. At the crest of the chair was the crucifixion. The carvings looked so real it was almost frightening.

She left the chair, turned again and her heart nearly stopped. Gasping, she covered her mouth with her hand and staggered backwards. Her back hit the wall and she slid down it as she took in the enormous cabinet filled with many, many porcelain dolls. Each one was different and featured a different girl in different clothes and styles. Along the top were what looked like the oldest. Their dresses hung to their ankles and their hair was done up in elaborate styles and curls. The dolls continued down in rows in chronological order. There were dolls in pastel colored dresses with short hair cuts; bell-bottom jeans and tie-dye; black leather and colorful hair; and denim vests and pants. Along the bottom row were dolls with tight fitting jeans, short skirts and low cut tops. Their dresses were slimmer and their hair long and straight or bouncy and curly. Makeup had been painstakingly painted onto each of their faces. Each doll was beautiful with many ethnicities and none of them looked the same. The were completely gorgeous and Lacey would have admired them if she wasn’t busy hyperventilating.

Alexander hurried over to her and kneeled down, eyes creased in concern, “Lacey? What is wrong?”

“T-the dolls. I’m- I’m scared of dolls. I-” Her teeth chattered and her vision started to tunnel as she gasped out, “Get my sister. Get Morgan.”

Alexander started to stand and rush to the door but then he turned and looked her up and down, as if appraising her. She stared at him in shock as he cocked his head and ran his eyes up and down her form, “Hmm, I haven’t done one in a couple of years. But you have a beautiful figure. And you’re eyes are… brilliant.”

“W-what?” she stuttered, gaping at him.

He kneeled down next to her again and ran his fingers over her arm, “You’re skin is already so much like porcelain. It’ll be easy.”

“I don’t understand,” Her vision started to leave her and she could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness as he placed a finger over her lips.

“Shh, don’t worry. You’ll make a beautiful addition to my collection,” With a wicked smile he picked her up right as her head lolled and she saw no more.

___________________________________________________

When Lacey awoke her arms felt stiff and she groaned, her sight gradually returning. Alexander watched her but he looked different, taller. Way taller, in fact.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” He smiled and held out a mirror, “What do you think? One of my best works, I believe.”

Lacey gaped and her heart faltered. She was looking at herself except she was a… doll. A porcelain doll just like the ones on the shelf. Her full lips were set in a pout and glistened with lacquer, just like the rest of her skin. The glossy auburn of her hair was curled in ringlets like it had been earlier that night, except now they were all perfectly the same size and just hit her shoulders. She was wearing the same dress and shoes as before and her makeup was done exactly the same. She looked like a miniature version of herself. Except her eyes. Her eyes were wide in astonishment and fear. Now that she was thinking about it, all the eyes of the dolls on the shelves beside her had the same look in her eyes as she did.

Lacey wanted to scream, faint, anything but she couldn’t move. Her heart still beat and she was still breathing but her chest didn’t rise with the movement of breathing. Faintly, she realized she could hear the voices of the other dolls. Their tiny voices screamed and swore at Alexander but their lips didn’t move, their eyes didn’t blink and their faces weren’t contorted with the malice Lacey could clearly hear through their words.

Alexander frowned, “Ladies, please. I gave you a new friend, what more do you want?”

“Change us back!” their voices screamed in unison.

“Sorry, I cannot,” His voice was apologetic but his eyes told a completely different story. He turned to Lacey, “Make yourself at home, dear. You’ll be here for quiet a long time.”

With that, Alexander got up and left. The dolls continued to yell and cry. Some were sobbing and others were silent. The one next to Lacey spoke quietly, “My name’s Grace. You’re Lacey?”

Lacey wanted to nod but she couldn’t move, “Yes.”

“We saw you earlier. I’m so sorry about this,” Grace apologized. Lacey tried to remember what she looked like from earlier. She faintly pictured a small doll with long, blond hair wearing jeans and a white sweater.

“How long have you been here?” Lacey asked.

“Eight years. I came here on my seventeenth birthday, just like you,” Grace said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Lacey whispered.

Time passed slowly that night. The dolls all finished screaming and introduced themselves. The oldest doll at the top left of the shelf was Jane who had been in Alexander’s care since 1805. Each of them were seventeen.

Some hours later, when the room was quiet and Lacey was left to her own devices, she realized something. In a cruel twist of irony, she wasn’t frightened of dolls anymore. In all honesty, they weren’t that bad.