Tea-time

I like to think that all of my troubles began with that stupid invite…
It came in the mail monday, but had no return address, only my name and was sealed with blood red sealing wax. The invitation itself was written long-hand in dark red ink and said, “You are cordially invited to tea this saturday. Be there, M.” On the back was a map. Not being one for tea, I tossed it in the trash.
That night I was awakened by a knocking on the lower half of the door to my bedroom. Terrified, I threw the covers over my head, and didn’t sleep at all. To my horror, the next morning when I shuffled into the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee, the invite was sitting right next to the coffee pot, seal unbroken. I grabbed it and looking over both shoulders chucked it into my neighbor’s trash bin on my way to the bus stop. Again during the night, my dreaming was interrupted by a tap, tap, tapping on the lower half of my door, it was more insistent then it had been the previous night.
This cycle repeated itself until friday night, the door to my room slowly creaked open. I cowered in absolute terror under my sheets, wishing I had emptied my bladder. Whatever it was sat on the bed beside me, and putting a cold hand on my trembling form, whispered, “You are coming to tea tomorrow, right?”
I don’t know how I got to sleep that night, but when I awoke the next morning, I found that my family had gone out. My mother had left me a note by my coffee that ended with, “…and don’t forget to go to tea, I want to hear all about it. Love Mom xoxo,” and right next to that was the invite opened and turned over to the map. I sighed and resigned myself to going, because in my house, mom’s word is law.
After driving for half an hour, I found her house. It was in the middle of nowhere and was surrounded by forest, but most frighting of all, it looked exactly like my house. From the shingles on the roof to the scuff on the front step, it was like someone had just picked my house up and set it down here.
I would still be standing there with my mouth open staring at my, I mean her, house if the heavens hadn’t suddenly opened the floodgates. The downpour was incredible. I ran up to my front door to knock, but before I could even touch the door, it swung open … all by itself. I turned to run back to my car, so that I could drive away like a maniac, but before I could even take the first step something pushed me through the door. After I was inside, the door itself slammed shut and I could hear the click of the locks shutting. I still jiggled the door nob for all it was worth.
Finally abandoning my attempts to open the door, I turned around and immediately wished that I hadn’t. My front hallway was filled with dolls. China dolls, baby dolls, rag dolls, ventriloquist puppets, marionettes, and worst of all those freaky china clowns. They were all standing there staring at me with their creepy little unblinking eyes. I couldn’t help myself, I screamed and started trying to break down the door.
I thought it couldn’t get any worse, until an old china doll with curly brunette hair and a lacy lilac dress reached out a cold hand and touched me. I froze, terrified to the point of paralysis. It then towed me down the hallway by my skirt, through what seemed like a century’s worth of cobwebs. Panic ensued when some species of large hairy spider fell down my shirt, fortunately it fell through my shirt and onto the floor. I could feel the beady eyes of thousands of spiders following me down the hall. After what seemed like a million years, we, the doll, spiders, and I, came to my family’s dinning room. I peered fearfully into the murky half light and so saw her for the first time, the mysterious M. She sat at the head of the table, clearly at home in my house. M resembled a china doll, with her pale skin, blue-black hair, Mona Lisa-esq smile, and vacant eyes. I tore my eyes away from her, noticing the others seated at the table. My family sat with heads hanging, like puppets waiting for their manipulator to animate them. In the gloom they resembled corpses. I felt rather dead, myself.
“Sit down and join the party… Nichole,” her voice was child-like and recalled me to myself.
“What’s wrong with them? What did you do to my family?” I wanted to sound full of righteous anger, but in all likelihood it came out as weak and pathetic, because she laughed.
“Oh Nichole, sit down, and I will tell you in a minute.” I sat, cautiously as if my seat were a land mine.
“Good,” M purred, “Now we can have tea. After all it is tea time.” She managed to make tea sound very sinister. M took a very large, shiny knife and a tea cup, and walked over to my father. The girl then rammed it through his left eye and collected the blood that flowed from it in her tea cup. When she reclaimed her knife, my daddy fell out of his chair.
“Your turn,” M stated coming over to me, but instead of killing me, she took out a paddle used to control marionettes. Then she poked my finger with the blade of her knife and smeared my blood on the paddle. M handed me the knife and started to manipulate me like I was her marionette. The girl walked me over to my mother and made me slit her throat so that M could collect my mommy’s blood too.
“Why?” I sobbed. She cocked her head, thinking it over.
“Because it amuses me.”
“Who are you?”
“Marionette,” she replied and sliced my hand for her “tea”. Then she took the cup over to my sister… and made Lilian drink it. My sweet little sister coughed, gagged, and then Lily attacked me. Her eyes were glowing red. The last thing I saw was Marionette and Lily walking away holding hands.
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Police report that Nichole D’lao was discovered next to her dead parents. Her sister Lilian remains missing. D’lao appears to be mentally unstable and continues to repeat one thing… Marionette
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Last night I awoke and found Marionette sitting on my bed.
“Why didn’t you kill me?” I asked.
“Because, Nichole, by not killing you I’ve made you wish that I had…”
, 24 March 2014 by RavenSoeng
Category:Living Objects
Category:Pointless Violence
Category:Bad Creepypasta