Dollies

This is my first Creepypasta, so any feedback is greatly appreciated.

Pasta
I never had any dolls growing up, I mean, I’m a boy with no sisters, so there was absolutely no reason I would be playing with them. My friend had a whole collection of dolls displayed in her room; Collector’s Edition Barbies, Monster High, Bratz, etc. They didn’t creep me out; they were just dolls, after all. Actually, I’m still not creeped out around dolls, even after…even after that experience.

There was a news flash about this girl for a long time, I don’t even remember her name, but she was about twelve with freckles, with pale blonde hair and blue-green eyes. She had gone missing; last seen around the city park. But after the initial reports, the story died down, and her smiling face holding a white rabbit plush would end up on the missing children billboard in Walmart.

Well, recently, I had gone to the park just to take in some sun. I sat on a bench, watching families sitting down on checked blankets, throwing Frisbees and flying kites. I had yawned and turned my head when I saw a girl.

It was summer, and she was dressed in a blue and black long-sleeve dress that looked like it belonged in a historic English-era movie. She was wearing black stockings and shiny blue platform shoes. She held a dirty-white animal, I thought it was a bear, but it had no ears. The girl was dressed up like a little doll.

Her face was pale and downcast, freckled. Her pale blonde hair was put into two pigtails that were put down near her neck. She wore a frilly headband with two snow-white rabbit ears on it.

Her eyes looked empty, and when she lifted her head for a second, the sunlight didn’t reflect off her blue-green eyes.

I’d forgotten about the little girl in the news by then, but I was still fixated on the little lady who stiffly sat down on a bench a few feet away. She looked like she was ready to cry.

I work at a Peter Piper’s so work instinct kicked in and I went over to the kid. “Hey there,” I said, kneeling down to meet her downward gaze.

She was still focused on the ground when she said, “Hello,” in a soft, sort of emotionless voice. Not monotonous, but… you know, lacking feeling.

“What’s wrong? Are you lost?”

“I’m not lost,” she said, stroking the stuffed animal, again with that sort of dead voice.

“Well, what’s the matter, sweetie? You look sad.”

“Sad,” she echoed. “I look sad.” She tilted her head and whispered “sad,” under her breath. Then she looked at me, with those emotionless eyes.

“Do I really look sad?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, you do,” I said. “What happened?”

Her head fell back into the downcast gaze to the ground. “I’m not supposed to look sad,” she said. “I get punished if I don’t smile. She says I’m supposed to smile. She says we’re all supposed to smile. I don’t see how I can smile without my…” She blinked, and in the corner of her eye a tear bubbled. Except, the thing was, the tear looked red.

My eyes had quirked at “punished”; was she getting abused by her mother? “Where do you live, honey?” I wondered. I had to see if this girl was really getting abused. She stood up, and the way she stood up reminded me of a puppet.

“My name is Alice,” she said, and started to walk away. She stopped once to look back, and then I trailed after her. She led me through the city, always turning her head a bit to make sure I was following. And the whole time she was whispering to her little toy.

“Do you think he can help me, Albe?” she said. “Help all of us?”

“All of us?” I wondered to myself. Were her siblings being abused too?

Alice led me to the house in the suburbs. The strange thing was that the surrounding houses were all vacant. The house itself looked perfectly normal; it looked clean and well taken care of. You’d think an abused household would have an equally abused home. We walked up to the porch and she took the knocker and let it drop.

The door came open and I was met with wide eyes and a toothy grin. It was a ginger girl wearing a similar, but more elaborate and fancy dress. Just as young as Alice, if not younger. Her hair was in ringlets and she struck me as cute. But then I focused on her wide, panicked eyes.

“Alice,” she said, her voice sounding welcoming, even when she said, “Mommy is very angry with you.”

“Mommy always is,” Alice whispered, pressing her face up to her animal.

“You know you’re not supposed to bring people home,” she said, still with that welcoming tone. “Mommy’s gonna hurt you again.”

Then a woman came to the door. She was around thirty-ish I suppose, with long black hair. She smiled at me, pushing the little ginger girl away.

“Hello there, sir,” she said, then flashed her eyes to Alice. I could’ve sworn there was a burning rage in her eyes when she looked at the blonde. “Alice, who is this? Did you wander off somewhere?”

“No Mommy,” she said. “I was in the park and he talked to me.”

“Please do come in,” the lady said, opening the door wide. When I stepped in, my blood chilled.

Little girls dressed in frilly outfits were everywhere, all dressed up and smiling. Their eyes varied from shock to anguish, and their faces never changed, just like Alice and the ginger girl.

They all looked like little dolls.

The lady gestured me to sit on the loveseat in the living room across from the sofa. A brunette set down a silver tray with a cup of tea, sugar and cream, and backed away. Alice began to sit next to me-

“Alice,” the woman said, “your little animal is dirty, go wash it.”

Alice clutched the rabbit tightly. “Albe isn’t dirty,” she mumbled.

“Alice, please, not in front of our guest. Put it in the washing machine.” The little girl stood and walked out of the room. The lady gave me a smile. “I’m sorry about her behavior. Alice has always been the odd one out, and I believe she thinks it’s because I hate her. Kids, huh?”

“Um, yeah,” I said, smiling nervously. “So… uh, are these girls all yours?”

“Oh, yes,” she started. “All of these little dolls are mine, every single one, all twenty-eight of them.”

Twenty-eight? Twenty-eight little girls with different hair and complexions? Well, maybe she wasn’t married, but they all looked around ten to twelve. And if she was able to have mass-multiple children, with all these different features, why wasn’t she in the news?

God, just imagine the poor guy paying child support for this household.

“Well, you must have a hard time taking care of all these little girls, then.”

“Alice especially,” she said, nearly interrupting me. “Alice is one of the older ones. She hardly smiles.” Her hand clenched on her knee as she went on. “It bothers me, when my little girls don’t smile. It makes me think that they don’t like it here.” She laughed nervously, “but, why on earth wouldn’t they like it here? Don’t you think it’s nice, here?”

I looked around; everything was so clean, and this room was nicely decorated if it was some sort of tea party place little girls went to so they could dress up and have- well, a tea party. So I nodded and smiled. “Well, yeah, it’s very nice here.”

Again, nearly cutting me off, “I know right? What’s not to like about this place? She’s surrounded by friends and cared for by a loving mother.” Laughing again, “But she doesn’t smile. She never smiles.”

“Have you ever tried to talk to Alice about why she doesn’t smile?” I wondered, but then she started laughing, almost doubling over. The little girls around her backed her up with dead-sounding laughs.

“Talk? To Alice? Ha! Alice doesn’t talk unless she’s spoken to. None of the little girls talk to me openly. They never talk.” Sort of darkly, under her breath, “They’re not supposed to, anyway.”

“Why don’t they talk to each other?”

“Because they’re...” she started with a kind face, as if I was a child who made a crazy question about why people couldn’t fly and she was trying to make this easy for me, but she couldn’t stop chuckling.

And now she looked like someone prying information from a little boy. “But you said Alice talked?”

“Well, of course-“

“I mean, not in response. Openly.”

“Yeah. That’s how I know her name.” The other girls in the room started swaying, as if they were connected by a string that the wind blew against. My hostess stood up and clapped her hands.

“Well, sir, I’m sorry, but I think it’s time for you to go,” she said, leading me to the door, which the ginger was still by, like a sentinel.

“Wait- Could I say goodbye to Al-”

“Good bye,” she said, shutting the door. I didn’t even get a name from the woman. But I didn’t want to anger her or her twenty-seven other kids. So I left, heading back through the park.

On the bench was Alice’s little animal, with a note and a little green book under it. The note on the earless animal said “For the Man in the Park.” I grabbed the animal and book and hurried to my apartment before the sun set. As I rode the subway, I noticed that the animal had a nose like a…like a rabbit.

I got home and looked at the other side of note.

“Mister, “Please hold on to Albe for me. Mommy’s going to take her from me. I just know it. “Take the diary too. Maybe you can help us, when you find out what’s wrong with all of us. “Please don’t come back to the house. Mommy does bad things with other people who keep coming back. I don’t want you to get hurt. “-Alice”

The diary was pretty plain, just a green notebook with a fancy “B” on the cover and a little ribbon marker wedged near the middle. As I flipped the pages to the marked page, I noticed that the previous entries had been made by someone named Bella Evans. She dotted her eyes with hearts and wrote in cursive with pink ink. She drew pictures on the left pages and I felt a pang of fear when I saw a little stick-figure girl holding a toy rabbit.

“Dear Diary,

“Mom bought me this rabbit at the toy store today. I love her so much! She’s soft and white like snow. I named her Albe, because I’m a B and she reminds me of Alice in Wonderland. Get it? Al- Be?

“Talk to you later,

“Love,

“Bella Evans + Albe”

Albe was a rabbit, I realized. But, that means, that means Alice was the little girl Bella in this diary. But maybe I was looking too into this, there was probably a reasonable explanation for Alice and Bella having white rabbits named Albe, right?

A few pages later, I found the marker on this entry.

“Dear Diary,

“This lady moved in across the street all by herself. She doesn’t even have a cat or dog. Maybe she’s allergic or something.

“She keeps looking at me. I wait for the school bus and she’s across the street, looking at me. I think she’s pretty creepy, but Mom and Dad don’t believe me when I tell them. They think she’s fine. I’m not sure about her. I don’t even know her name.

“It’s a good thing we’re going to be at the party our neighbors are throwing at the park. I can’t wait to be there.

“Love,

“Bella Evans + Albe”

The opposite page showed a dark-haired woman staring straight through to the reader. Despite it being a little girl’s drawing, I felt like it was familiar. The next page looked like it there was a page between that was ripped out. I looked at the next entry, which was in print, and written in black.

“Diary,

“I don’t feel so good after waking up. I feel a little better when I hold Albe, just a little. I feel empty, like something’s missing.

“I went over to her house yesterday, because Mom and Dad were still at the neighbor’s party. Albe and I went back to our house, playing with the grass in our front lawn.

“And then I saw her across the street, watching me again. I called out to her, asking why she wasn’t at the party with everyone else. She said she was still unpacking some boxes, and that she needed help with some. So I picked up Albe and went into her house.

“She shut the door and locked it. She told me the boxes were in the basement, so we went there, but I didn’t see any boxes. Just a table under the light.

“She snatched Albe away from me. I wanted her to give her back, and then she said she’d give her back when I did what she wanted. She told me to lay on the table. Told me to keep quiet, or else she’d hurt Albe. I was to lay very still on the table, and wait.

“I’m sorry that I screamed when she cut me open, Albe. She took your ears off because of it. And now they’re my ears.

“She cut me open and went for my heart. Before she took it off, she told me to smile. I couldn’t. And she cut my heart away, and I fell asleep.

“I woke up a few minutes ago with Albe. I’m in a closet. The only light comes out from under the doorway. I’m not wearing my hair down like it was before, and I’m not wearing the same clothes. I’m wearing this dress, and I think it’s blue and black. Albe’s ears are on my head. My shoes make me feel taller.

“Sometimes the lady comes back. Calls me Alice. It’s like I know that’s my name. And that I know that I’m supposed to call her Mommy.”

The rest of the diary was a bunch of scribbles. I could only make out a few words in the mess: “my heart” “where is it” “I need it” “I hate Mommy”.

There was no doubt in my mind now. The woman that they called Mommy had something really really messed up about her. She wanted kidnapped little girls to smile after she took something away from them, something they needed to survive and be human.

And Alice couldn’t smile because she was nothing more than a doll unable to change her expressions. Taking away her heart made her weak and unhappy, and how could someone smile when they couldn’t live the way they remember they used to.

But all the other dolls smiled, so Mommy must’ve done something different to the others when she got better at making them. After all, the woman had just moved in when she made Alice; she’d said it herself, Alice was one of the oldest. She probably stopped doing the same procedure since Alice kept holding... Albe.

I looked at the stuffed animal on the desk, which had marble eyes and a little upside-down “v” mouth that made it look sad. Why did Alice have to hold Albe in order to feel a little stronger? And why did Mommy want Alice away from her?

I picked up the bunny and inspected her. She seemed like a normal, loved bunny, save for her lack of ears. That is, until I noticed one of the seams had been re-stitched, like it popped, and then someone took it to get it professionally repaired and just like new.

I opened the drawer on my desk and pulled out some scissors. “Okay, Albe,” I whispered, opening the handles, “what did she do to you?” I slid the blades under the threads carefully, and cut them. Pulling open the gap, I reached in, and my hand closed around something slimy and squishy.

I was a bit horrified, sure, but I felt a bit of hope: Alice’s heart was here, with me, and maybe I could save her, maybe she could be Bella Evans again. I hid Albe away in my bedroom, and grabbed my old aluminum baseball bat. Saving Alice wasn’t going to be easy, so it was best if I took something to defend myself, but at the same time not be stopped by the police for taking a knife.

I groaned in frustration when my phone flashed its low battery, and tossed it on the couch. A dead phone’s just as good as none at all, right? So I walked out of my apartment and drove towards the suburbs. Knowing that Mommy was suspicious of me by now, I drove around, using the connecting streets and such to park at the corner out of sight of the lit house. This was around eight twenty, and I got out of the car, going towards the back.

You know how most decent neighborhoods have back-to-back housing, right? So I hoisted myself up on the brick wall, and walked down the one separating the backyards until I saw the backyard.

Hanging from the trees were girls, dolls, limply. It had to be her backyard, who else would be sadistic enough to hang little girls, and carve smiles on their anguished faces? I jumped down into it, and was shocked when I heard Alice’s voice.

“You came back...” she said, in that dead voice. I whirled around to find her in a man-sized rabbit trap, and blood streamed down her cheeks like tears. Her pale freckled face was even paler, and she looked so sickly. “Please... hurry.” She clutched her chest, starting to shake. “Oh, Albe, Albe...”

“Just hang on,” I said, rushing towards the trap. I pulled on the latch that would allow the metal door to be pushed open by Alice. “I’m going to get you out, okay?”

Then the dolls wobbled slowly out of the darkness, with wide smiles.

“Get the h&@* away!” I screamed, “Go to hell!” I got up on the trap and pulled at the latch.

“Alice needs to be punished,” they mumbled, and they echoed it as they walked closer. “Punished...punished...”

“Mommy is very angry with her...” “Angry...very angry....”

“People like you get punished...punished...punished for finding out about us....about us....about Mommy...”

“Go to hell, you b@%#$&ds!”'' I screeched, frantically yanking the latch to Alice’s trap, and she started to crawl out when they rushed us. Their arms were outstretched and they flew at us. With one red hand I struggled to leave the latch up for Alice, and with the other, I swung wildly at the dolls, even went so far as to beat a little dirty blonde’s skull in when she started to climb up on me. Alice was halfway out of the trap, but the others were stomping and kicking her. I swung at the monsters attacking the poor, tormented little girl. In one swing I could hit five dolls, but they didn’t fall back, no, it took four good swings to knock them down.

As I fought the girls clawing at my hand on the latch and grabbing my feet and climbing up on the trap, I heard Alice scream. “Alice?!” As I yelled, three dolls grabbed my swinging right arm and pulled me down into the hoard. I thrashed as they pulled at me, and wrapped me up.

Mommy’s laugh made me still. “Ahahah. Oh, Alice, look what you’ve done. I told you not to tell anyone. But you don’t listen to Mommy. No, you listen to that godd@$!# animal you can never let go of! And then you disappear, and it’s gone. Where is it, Alice? Where is it?”

“I don’t know!” she said, and I could only hear pain in her voice, sounding dead, but also in excruciating pain. “I don’t know- Mommy, Mommy it hurts, it hurts, Mommy, please!”

“That’s because you let go of that stupid rabbit, you stupid little b&@*%. Now,”- the bag on my face was pulled off, and I saw that Alice was strapped to a chair, so that she couldn’t turn her head away from me.

I was on a stainless steel table, in a dimly lit room. The basement.

“Alice, tell Mommy where your bunny is. Mommy needs that bunny back. If you don’t give that back, Mommy is going to kill this man.”

“Alice! Alice, don’t worry, just get away from here! You can find Albe on your own, I swear-”

Mommy slapped me hard, shutting me up for a moment. “Alice, did you give this man your Albe?”

“Mommy, no, it hurts, Mommy, it HURTS!” Alice shrieked horribly. “MOMMY, please!”

“Answer me, Alice!”

“IT HURTS SO BAD, MOMMY!! GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK, PLEASE!” Mommy stormed off towards the little girl.

“For God’s sake, leave her alone!” I screamed at the woman, wriggling on the table, trying to free myself of the ropes.

“Alice, so help me-”

''“I HATE YOU SO MUCH, MOMMY! I HATE YOU!”'Italic text'''

“Alice!”

I’d gotten out, and rushed Mommy. We hit the floor hard and I punched and she clawed at me with those sharp nails. Alice was crying in pain as we rolled about, knocking into the tables and counters of the basement, sending instruments crashing to the table. When she began to strangle me, my hand fingered around a handle of one of the instruments. Mommy was hissing at me, “I’m going to kill you, chop off your penis and rape Alice with it, you f&*%#@ng piece of s^*#!”

I tried to hit her, but my fist was a few inches away from her face. The knife I was holding, however, slicing at her face. She screamed and fell back in recoil, and I kicked her away. Still holding the knife I ran towards Alice, slicing the leather straps holding the doubling over girl in the chair.

Mommy yanked me away from Alice, throwing me to the ground. I shrinked away from her in horror when I saw what the knife had done.

It had sliced a demented smile on Mommy’s face. She pinned me down and wrenched the knife away from me, holding it in front of me.

“Maybe I’ll just slice your balls off and rape her right now, so you can see it,” she said, blood dripping down her lips and on her teeth, which stained my shirt. She laughed wildly, fire in her eyes, the knife still gleaming with her blood as she poised it to strike.

Then there was a snapping as Alice swung a cinder block at Mommy, and she fell to the floor, blood gushing from the point of impact on her skull. Alice dropped to the floor, letting go of the heavy object. I went to her side and picked her up, walking up the stairs.

The other dolls had fell to the floor, as if they were puppets on strings that were cut. They lay slumped, eyes closed, as if they were finally allowed to rest. Alice cried blood, but her eyes gleamed like a big sister at a wedding.

“Finally at rest,” she whispered, and she smiled.

It was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.

-By JayPuma186