Page 2 of Dollface

I descend to the lower level, and a sense of calm washes over me as a rainbow of glowing color fades to life and I’m immersed in my bioluminescent sanctuary. A small smirk tugs at my lips as I watch a glowing dragonfly land delicately on my brightly lit skin, matching the ink, before fluttering away. This is my haven, my personal refuge within the confines of my home. Here, I can let down my guard and be myself, in my own skin, and forget both the worlds outside my door.

The glowing creatures scurry around me, their soft light casting a mesmerizing glow on the walls. It pulls at the corners of my typically downturned lips, a rare occurrence for someone who hates almost everyone—though hate might be too strong of a word. There's a clear distinction between indifference and hatred, and while I may not care for most people, there are only a select few whom I truly despise. Like the Spinster. Hatred requires emotion, energy, obsession—much like how I’d imagine love to feel. Not that I’d know; love has never been a desire or want for me. Perhaps that's something I should be grateful for. Love appears to be nothing but chaos and destruction. In all my years here and in Dreadmoor, I have witnessed it happen time and time again, each instance ending with one person left broken beyond repair. Not even the Spinster with her needle and thread could mend those shattered hearts. So yes, I understand the science behind "love," but I don't feel it, and I have no desire to even attempt to do so.

A small smile spreads across my face as a glowing yellow caterpillar scurries across my blue and green inked arm toward my fingers. I pull the fluorescent critter closer to my face, letting out a quiet chuckle as it wiggles in my palm, changing from yellow to blue and then back. "You're running late on your cocooning stage, little guy," I say softly before setting it gently on a nearby leaf. “No need to try so hard to talk to me just yet. We’ll have our chats soon.” Much like the Spinster has her spies, I have mine. Unfortunately, my reach doesn’t go beyond this world, not like hers, but my bugs help to keep me aware of trouble—like the creation from tonight.

Reaching my hand into my pants pocket, I pull out the bloodied pair of black button eyes I ripped from the creation’s eye sockets. I smirk, grabbing a jar off my shelf of collections—most are full of button eyes, and I drop the pair into an open one.

“Welcome home.” I chuckle while fighting the stiffness I feel growing in my pants. It’s nothing for me to come down here and pleasure myself to my trophies. It’s like an extra “fuck you” to the Spinster. But tonight, I have a heaviness weighing on me. Something is changing in the air. I don’t know what it is, but it’s stealing my focus.

Making my way through my room, I stuff my hand back into my pocket, gripping a pair of dice. They aren’tmydice. No, I lost those in my last round with Spinster. But what is a gambler without his dice? So, I found this pair of glowing green ones. I’m not a fan, but they’ll do until I have my set back in my grasp. With a flick of my wrist, the green cubes roll and bounce across the table. My scowl deepens as they land on a one and a three. Apparently, Iwon’tbe delivering an ass beating to the shit stains once they return.

Chapter 1

Blue

Alone...

Lost in sadness,

Made from scraps and mishaps.

A silly mistake left to be...

Alone

“Move!” I whisper while frantically shoving the small, whimpering child toward the open portal with all my strength. “You must return to your world and destroy the door! This is not the magical world you think it is. It’s a living hell, and if you don’t leave now, she’ll destroy you! You need to forget this place ever existed!” I groan, trying to force the child through as he sobs, clinging onto me with his small, desperate arms. I can feel the darkness of this cursed realm closing in around us, chilling the air and weighing me down with its despair.

Tears stream down his face as he clings desperately to my stomach, frightened and unsure of what to do. I hold him tightly, feeling the weight of guilt and regret crushing me. This tiny human, so innocent and pure, should’ve never been lured intomy dark world like so many before him. Those wretched toys, bringing these souls here to feed our Creator’s insatiable hunger. I can’t stand by and witness another fallen soul. I need to save him. I knew upon his arrival that his time was very limited. The Creator hasn’t had a new child in many years, and she’s starving. It took everything in me to break free from my cage so I could return him to his rightful world.

The screech of my Creator echoes through the night sky, a crackle of lightning illuminating the skies—my signal that time is running out. I have to make him leave and flee for my own survival before it's too late. Hell, it may already be too late for me. Doing this is the ultimate betrayal, punishable by only the most gruesome of deaths.

“Remember, you must break the door once you’ve reached your room. Do not hesitate,” I repeat urgently as I shove him through the door, slamming it shut behind him with a resounding thud. My hair lashes against my face in wild tangles as my Creator's presence grows closer, sending shivers of fear down my spine. With trembling hands, I twist the doorknob, and relief fills me when I’m met with resistance. The glowing orb surrounding the door dissipates.Good boy. He's finally home, and with the bridge connecting his world to ours destroyed, he will forever be sealed off and safe from her clutches.

“You wretched rag!” A bloodcurdling scream pierces through the trees, sending me hurtling into a nearby tree with bone-crunching force. My head spins as I struggle to regain my bearings, but all I can see is a hazy blur of gray in the surrounding darkness. Suddenly, a vice-like grip seizes my throat, cold, skeletal, needle-like fingers curling around my neck as they slam me against the once peaceful tree that held the portal. The familiar scent of my Creator's putrid breath fills my nostrils as she hisses a guttural warning in my ear.

“This is the last time,” she growls. “I spared you last time because you were young and new, you pathetic waste of parts! Now, I shall fling you into the depths of the Nightmare and let the Boogeyman tear you apart.” My eyes widen with terror as a wave of dread washes over me. I knew what my fate would be, but hearing it spoken is heart-stopping.

“Please,” I croak, my voice barely audible through her surprisingly strong grip. “I-I beg of you.” My plea is desperate as fear and anxiety courses through me. The Boogeyman is the devil of our world and Nightmare is the hell he lords over. Being sentenced to him is a fate worse than death.

“Silence!” Her roar hushes my cries. “I warned you to stop destroying my portals!” she bellows, throwing me to the ground with a force that knocks the air from my lungs. I brace myself for another vicious blow, but it never comes. Instead, the ground beneath my body begins to dissolve, my limbs quickly sinking into fading sand, my stomach dropping as I fall into a dark vortex. I try to scream, to claw at the surface and save myself, but it’s too late.

As I fall, I get my first glimpse of my Creator as she stares back at me, her shiny black buttons flickering while her smile curls into something sinister. “Let’s see you stop me now, you worthless ragdoll.” As her insult hits my heart, my body is pulled into the shadows, the world spinning into a dark abyss as I drown in the sound of my screams, until it all collides into utter silence met with absolute darkness.

“Ohhh,aren’t you a pretty little dolly?” The eerie, whispered voice pierces my subconsciousness, jolting it back to awareness. I scamper backwards—as a bright light burns my eyes, causing me to shield them with my arm while trying to make out the figure. “Pretty plaything, lost and sad.”

"W-who's there?" I sputter out before groaning as the pain in my head settles from the impact. “Answer me!” I cry out with all the fake confidence my small, broken, sore body can muster. I just hope it’s coming off as intimidating, though with the intense light obscuring any details, I could be talking to a rock for all I know.That would one hundred percent be my luck.

“Havoc,” the voice replies. Hands grip my arms, forcing me to my wobbling feet.

“Yes, you are creating a bit of it,” I mutter. The stranger seems delighted by my statement, the sound of her laughter and squeals echoing around me.

“Havoc’s name is Havoc. What’s yours?” My vision focuses as I stare back at the most unique looking creature. No, not a creature—a person. Her hair is gathered into two buns atop her head, her face hidden behind glowing paint resembling that of a menacing clown, smeared and imperfect, eerie yet beautiful. She’s dressed in a costume of sorts, also like that of a clown, her dark arms and legs fully exposed. My face twists in curiosity and fear as I realize her eyes are different; one is that of a human, but the other... It’s like mine—a shiny, roughly stitched button.

“Dolly hasn’t answered Havoc,” she hisses, though I sense more amusement in her whisper than hostility.

“Blue,” I reply slowly.Why is she talking that way?She’s quiet for a moment before chuckling.

“Yes, you are.”

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