Page 11 of The Dollmaker
“Ha, not nearly enough,” he says grinning with wild eyes. Then he looks at me with hate and jealousy, pressing the gun harder against my head.
Bang… and everything goes black.
Savannah
Screams Wasted on Deaf Ears…
The gunshot echoes through the house, causing my ears to ring as warm blood splatters against my face. “No, no. no!” I scream as Tripp falls to his knees. I watch in shock as if I’m seeing this in slow motion. His body falls down the stairs to the ground with a thud as his head slams against the hardwood floor, bouncing a few times. I scream in horror as my feet move faster than my body down the stairs, slipping on the last step and falling to my knees. Laughter reverberates around the foyer, making me want to snap at the sound of his voice. I roll the man I love the most in this fucked up world onto his back. Brain matter falls from my hair as I wipe my eyes, only to find my hands covered in his blood. My chest tightens as I look down at him. “You can't leave me. You promised eternity, Tripp! Fucking eternity!” I scream, lifting his head into my lap. Looking up at Jeremy still standing there, this time pointing the gun at me as he walks down the stairs slowly.
“Your days are fucking numbered! You fucking hear me?” I growl, and he laughs, throwing his head back like this is the funniest thing he’s ever done. So, I place Tripp's head down gently and stand. My eyes narrow as I feel that sudden rush of spiders climbing up my back and I scream at the intensity as I charge at Jeremy. His eyes widen in fear as I sink the glass shard into his stomach. He stumbles into my front door. Raising his arm, he shoots wildly, and I laugh maniacally. “Get out of my house! This is your only warning. I will come for you and your pregnant fucking wife! Warn them all! I’m fucking coming! It may not be tonight. It may not be tomorrow, next week or even next year. But I will come and I will fucking kill you all! Sleep with one eye open, motherfucker ” I spit, turning the shard and ripping it out of his stomach.
As I turn to go back to Tripp, someone grabs me from behind and wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing so fucking tight I fear my eyes may truly pop out of my skull. In a panic, I flip the bloody shard in my hand, cutting myself in the process and slam it into his pelvis, dragging it up and down his flesh. He releases my throat and a wicked smile forms across my face as I revel in the feeling of his skin, muscle and tendons literally shredded the faster I drag the glass through his pelvis. His screams egg me on making me laugh when he pushes me away and I notice Jeremy holding his stomach, swatting the spider off of him. John stumbles towards the front door, crashing into Jeremy.Yet another fucking football prick doing Jeremy’s biddings just like Trent.
“It’s biting me, what the fuck!” he screams and I howl with excitement.
“By the way. Trent is dead upstairs. I’ll be sure to deliver him to your front yard tomorrow. Now get out!” I spit, turning around. The gun goes off, hitting the back of my calf, making me fall to the ground next to Tripp.
Tears fall from my eyes as I lay my head on his chest, praying for a beating heart that never comes. The front door opens and shuts as I lay here wanting to scream and slaughter the entire neighborhood for all they have done to us. “It should’ve been me, Tripp. Not you. You are a good man. You deserve a woman who could’ve given you a baby, not some tainted bitch like me. I should be the one dead. Me! I should’ve died on those tracks,” I cry, wrapping my arm around his waist as my leg burns with pain, but I ignore it. I just want to lie here for eternity. Maybe this was all a dream and I’ll wake up to his smile. “I’m so sorry, Tripp. This is all my fault. I should’ve listened to you. We had so many chances to kill them all and I kept saying no because I didn't want you to die, but look where that got us. You’re dead. You’re fucking dead.” I scream as the tears continue to pour down my face. “I'm so scared, so fucking scared. What am I supposed to do without you? How do I breathe without you? We just promised each other eternity—I can't. I refuse to live this life alone. I need you. Please wake up. Please.” I beg his lifeless body to just breathe, a little rise of his chest–something to give me hope that he is still here with me.
“I promise you, baby, I will kill them all for this. I will make sure they all suffer like they made us suffer. One by fucking one! From this moment on, they will feel nothing but pain, anger, sorrow and fear until I rip their fucking life from their bodies and send their souls to the pits of hell!” I vow. My eyes begin to get heavy and I let the darkness within me consume my soul, and I pray when I wake that this was just a nightmare on Lull lane.
The Dollmaker
Three months later…
As I sit in my craft room staring out the bay window that overlooks the grounds, I wipe the tears that are constantly falling from my cheeks. I open the window letting the fresh air bellow through the room. Taking a deep breath, a flutter of wings sounds out and I smile. Bones caws at me as he sits on the railing of the balcony watching my every move, but he’s all the company I have anymore. Being in this house all alone sucks. I haven’t left since that night. Tripp taking me to Delirium is truly the last time I stepped foot off this property. I refuse to leave—I can't. I’m too afraid that if I do, I will lose his scent that lingers in the air. At times I feel his warmth wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a snowy day in the middle of the winter. But mostly I’m left cold.
The nights when I can’t sleep, I walk through the gardens, flowing my hands over the roses that bloomed so unbelievably red after I buried pieces of Tripp in the beds. Once they wilt, Iremove the buds and pick each petal off the stem and put them in a jar of essential oils. They are just another piece of him I refuse to let die.
It’s bad enough that night three months ago I let Jeremy and John go instead of mutilating them. It’s one of my biggest regrets, but I have bigger plans for them—in due time. That night after I woke up still laying on Tripp's dead body, I placed a call to my optometrist, Lily, who specializes in eyeballs. She owed me a favor, so I had her come to the house and remove Tripp’s eyeballs to preserve them for me.I didn’t want to lose his blue eyes.What I didn't expect was to suck the sweetness of his optic nerves with her. Even though I was a wreck and completely broken, it was intensely erotic to do that with her. I never felt attraction to another woman before, but I did that night. Lily and her husband, despite being an Optometrist and child psychologist, have a family owned funeral parlor in their home so she gave me the option to have Tripp cremated, but I declined the offer.I need him here with me.
Luckily, she called her husband over to take Trent from upstairs and got rid of him after removing his eyeballs first. I didn’t realize how deep her obsession was with eyes until then. Granted, being an eye doctor should have been the first clue, but once she told me that the eyeball garland around her office was from her victims, that really solidified it for me.
After she left, I went through the motions of draining his blood and dissecting his body. The only reason I know how to do it is because of Tripp. He showed me a video on the dark web of this man who is actually known as The Carver. He’s a serial killer in New York City who is obsessed with blood and killing women with black hair. His workroom was intriguing to see, but it was mesmerizing to watch how intricate and gentle he was with a scalpel as he dissected a woman step by step, showing others how to preserve body parts. We loved that he was verythorough and informative while he taught. So Tripp created his own workroom in the basement equipped with everything I needed, including a chairlift, which was a struggle to get him in, but luckily Lily’s husband Heath helped. Thank god because I don’t know how I would’ve managed alone.
It feels like a lifetime ago when we were just normal teenagers. Cheering at Wisteria High and Tripp playing ball, all the parties and teenage drama. Homecoming night broke us and created the monsters we are or he was. I try not to think of that night or the night Tripp was murdered, but it plays in my mind as a reminder of what needs to be done. I’m surprised I have any tears left. I cried the entire time I dragged the scalpel down his flesh, opening his chest cavity. I spent hours upon hours removing every vein, every organ, and every bone from his body. All his meat and muscles, I sliced into steaks and placed them in the deep freezer to eat weekly. It’s the only way to keep him inside me. If I consume him and his blood, he will forever remain within me until my last dying breath. His major arteries I wrapped up and created eleven bracelets with. I have set them aside specifically for the next project I’m working on.
Turning away from the window, I walk over to the altar I made and kneel in front of it. I pick up my lighter and light the black and white candles along with a white sage incense. Closing my eyes, I hum the song “You are my sunshine,” as I let the intensity of the feeling of a million spiders crawl up my back and visions of happy times with Tripp flood my mind. Tears pour down my face and then I let all the air out of my lungs, open my eyes and take a sip of his blood. Swallowing down the cold coppery liquid, I lean in and kiss the picture of us sitting on the altar and rise to my feet.
Next to my desk, I grabbed a few boxes, opened them one by one, and lined up all the tools and objects needed to finally create my dolls. Agatha showed me the vision of myself, makingthe dolls that will reign hell in this neighborhood. I just need to do my part first.
Sitting at my desk, I pick up the first doll, wiping his porcelain face clean of dust, then thread in his jet black hair, making sure to sweep the front across his forehead. I hum “Hush little baby,” pouring my loss and fear into him. Taking my paintbrush, I dip it into the blue and sweep it over his eyes. I smile as he looks up at me. “What a sweet boy you are.” I tell him and dip the fine brush into the black, drawing a line for his mouth. He smiles up at me, but as soon as my song is over, a sinister grin creeps across his face, sending chills up my spine. “You may look sweet but inside you are something wicked they won’t see coming,” I smirk as I grab his small black t-shirt and dark skinny jeans, dressing him. He snuggles into me, making my heart fill with excitement. “What is your name?” I ask, and he whispers,
“Alastair,” and I place a kiss on his forehead, sweeping his hair from his face. “Reign terror among them, my sweet boy,” I command, pulling his arms through the black leather jacket and tying the vein bracelet around his tiny wrist. Then I place him in a white box and cover him with black tissue paper, placing a card on top that reads. “Congratulations. Alastair will protect your little one.” Sealing the box shut, I wrap it with red ribbon, set it aside and pick up my glass of sweet tea, taking a long sip.
Reaching over, I pick up the next doll and place her on the desk. Swiping open my phone, I press play, singing along to “Oh my darling, Clementine,” as I dress this sinister girl in a blue dress with ruffles on her chest, white stockings and blue Mary Jane shoes. Opening the box, I pull out more thread and long red curly hair and begin to sew it into her head. “You, my dear Clementine, will inflict pain on the mind so brutal they will want to scream from the torture,” I coo as I dip my paint brush in light green to paint over her eyes. She blinks at me and I smile. “Don’t worry, baby girl. I’m not finished yet,” I reassure her as Itake a small sponge and dip it into light pink and dust it over her cheeks.
Tilting my head, I continue to hum the lullaby and swipe a small line for her smile. She looks up at me, confused. “Clementine, you are a sinister and dangerous little doll. Make them pay,” I command, and she smiles. I lean down, pressing a kiss on her cheek as I tie a small bracelet around her tiny wrist and place her in a white box, covering her with black paper, writing the same note over again.
Suddenlythe box next to me shakes and I glance down, seeing a rat tail moving frantically.What the fuck?I’m not afraid of many things, but rodents freak me the hell out. I jump out of my seat as a doll rises from the box. My hand flies over my mouth in fear when I notice her face is shaped like a mouse with whiskers and black, beady eyes. Her long blonde hair flows tightly down her back that I mistook for a rat tail. She stands on my desk, tapping her foot as she looks at me wearily. “Miss, can you please dress me in that pretty pink silk dress with the little chinoiserie style blossoms on it?” She points, and I nod, picking up the fabric as she leans over, pressing play on my phone. ‘Three blind mice’ blares through the speakers as her ears bounce to the beat along with her hips.
“What is your name?” I ask, helping her into her clothes.
“I’m Lucille,” she smiles as I pull her white stockings up her little legs and place each foot into her white patent leather low-heeled shoes.
“That’s a beautiful name, but I bet you are fierce under your innocent look.”
“Correct. Don’t let my innocence fool you. My nails are razor sharp, ready to sink into human flesh,” she smirks.
