The Doll Maker

## The Doll Maker by Chisai-Yokai

   There once was a man who made beautiful dolls of all shapes and sizes. He even made life sized dolls. Many requested these expensive and exquisite dolls and though these dolls brought the humble man a lot of money he lived modestly with his young son Vine.

The young boy was fascinated by his father’s work. The doll parts and finished dolls filled the home. Each was unique and had their own beautiful personality. Vine would watch in fascination as his father would paint the delicate lips upon their pale faces. He wanted to be just like his father someday and create gorgeous works of art.

One day a rich businessman requested an ornate life-sized doll from the humble doll maker, he went by the name Gier. However, the doll maker refused to make the doll upon discovering Gier was crooked and wanted the doll for perverted means. Gier grew enraged at the makers refusal, so enraged that he sent hired arms to get rid of the doll maker.

The doll maker's home was set ablaze. He sacrificed himself to save his son from the flames. Vine watched in terror and dismay as his father burned alive before him. His tears only evaporated from the heat as he watched his home turn to rubble and ash.

He sobbed over the remains of his father, surrounded by charred reminisce of his home, of the beautiful ornate dolls. They were now melted, distorted, horrid, disfigured atrocities of what they once were.

Vine searched through the wreckage with his tiny hands, trying to find anything that may have survived the blaze. In the end all he could find was a life-sized pink glass doll eye. He cupped it in his hands and held it close to his heart, his messy black locks falling in his face. The eye was all he had left.

The child was at the mere age of nine when he watched everything, he had ever known be destroyed in an instant...

Unfortunately, the terrors were not over for the child.

Gier had his hired arms return to the scene of the crime, to make sure the doll maker was truly dead. They found the charred corpse of the once great maker however they also came across the son. Not sure what to do with the child they abducted him and took him to Gier.

Gier had no real means for the child but decided to keep him, kept high to replace the doll he never received. He kept Vine for three years, treating him like a doll, an object, playing with him. Vine was his prisoner. The boy couldn’t take it anymore and he began to lose himself. His mind began to deteriorate.

One night while the man loomed over Vine with him pinned to the bed, trying to *play* with him, Vine decided he did not want to *play* anymore. Vine quickly grabbed a pen off the nightstand and began to stab it through the man’s carotid. Blood gushed from the hole; it splattered all over the walls, floor, and Vine himself. Vine had just killed a man for the first time. As the body lay there, stiffening, Vine stole some money and quickly escaped.

Vine lived on the streets. He wanted to start up the family business again, to make dolls. He lived in an abandoned boarded up apartment in the bad part of town. With the money he stole he got parts and painted beautiful dolls. He sold them, getting more money, trading up, making more, more beautiful dolls. More lifelike dolls. Plastic, clay, and porcelain no longer became enough to satisfy Vine...

**NEWS REPORT**

Missing teen MURDERED. A horrific scene was discovered at the town park. Emily Rider brutally MUTILATED.

- Autopsy Report- Emily Rider:

Cause of death, blood loss and shock. Found in what appeared to be an elegant hand stitched gown. The corners of Emily’s mouth had been sewn into a small smile with lips painted a deep red. Eyes...gouged out and replaced with glass ones, fake eyelashes and painted makeup. Her nails were removed and replaced with fake ones. A frozen expression remained on her face. Her head was shaved and replaced with blue hairs sewn into her scalp replacing her once blonde locks. And perhaps the most disturbing, every joint in her body was popped out of their socket or broken. Truly the work of a psychopathic killer.

Examination Notes:

It appears Emily Rider was very much alive when the killer started to mutilate her. She was alive as he had her face sewn into place, each lock of hair tediously sewn into her scalp and as her eyes were gouged out.

She was initially found on a park bench, put in place like a doll on display. This would explain perhaps why the jointed were popped out of the sockets, it would make it easier to display her in whatever way he pleased. By the way the killing was executed it appears the killer views his crimes as works of art...

Jason Harris [ Medical Examiner]

Emily was Vine's second murder but a first of a string. He got a thrill in creating new dolls. Carving into them, making them beautiful. He was now 17, never caught. Still living in abandoned homes, still killing.

He had gone completely mad, though he did not believe so. One might describe him as schizophrenic. Vine however thought he was fine. He lived in a reality he had created for himself in his own mind. He was not a killer, he was an artist, an artist who made beautiful dolls.

Vine prided himself in his work but still saw himself as worthless, dirty, used goods…

In an attempt to make himself as beautiful as his dolls he gouged out one of his own eyes and replaced it with the only thing he had left from his childhood, the glass eye. He then stitched half of a smile into his lips. However, he did not finish the job, there was too much pain. He felt he failed in making himself beautiful, leaving scars, leaving his face mutilated by his own hands.

He knows he is damaged goods...he knows he is worthless...all he can do is make people happy by making his beautiful dolls...

His work became quite popular in the newspapers and television broadcasts for displaying his art in public places. And he loved his given name by the public too...

The Doll Maker...

*Just like daddy right?*

## The Doll Maker II: Emily

The sound of faint footsteps could be heard upon the frost covered pavement. It was a cool autumn evening, the sun had set only a few hours ago. Emily could see her breath in the frigid air as she tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear.

She held several books to her chest as she walked. She had spent the whole day at the library until closing time. She knew she was not allowed by her parents to be out after dark but surly they would understand she needed to do research for her essay paper. The wind rustled the branches of leafless trees. Besides the wind and branches it was quiet, so quiet. It made her feel somehow paranoid. She sighed a bit as she continued down the sidewalk, adjacent to the park. She continued to walk until she found something obstructing her path just under the streetlamp. She blinked as she knelled down in curiosity. It was a 12-inch ball jointed doll that sat before her. She reached her hand out to it while her other hand held the books. She picked up the doll and examined it more closely.

She was glad she had not stepped on it for it was gorgeous. The doll had luminescent pale skin, wavy black hair, a silky and ornate red dress and beaming blue eyes. What was more astounding was that it seemed to be professionally hand crafted and in perfect condition. And yet what was it doing out here then? Emily was so engrossed in the dolls beauty that she was unaware as someone walked up behind her, looming over her. " You like her? Her name is Alice." a calm and smooth male voice said to her. Emily jumped in surprise, dropping her books and quickly turning around, doll still in hand. The figure was slightly in the shadows, not quite under the streetlamp like she was.

Though the male was hard to make out she could tell he was tall, about 6'3 it seemed. He was wearing black pants and a light grey-blue un-tucked dress shirt. His hair was black, messy and long, reaching to his lower middle back. His face however was harder to make out with the shadows plus his long messy bangs made it more difficult. "S-she's yours?" she asked the stranger, trying to regain composure. "Why yes of course. I made her myself. What do you think of her?" he asked, voice still calm, inviting even. " You did really? She is absolutely gorgeous." Emily told the man. It was not a common thing for her to speak with strangers, but he didn't seem like a threat, he sounded nice.

The man smiled to her "Yes, she is, isn't she. But so are you, I bet you would make a much more lovely doll than she would."  He told her. Emily blushed a bit at his comment and though flattered felt a bit uncomfortable by it as well. "O-oh thank you...um well I should be getting home." she said, kneeling down to pick up her books and scattered papers, setting the doll aside on the sidewalk. "Let me help you with that." he said and knelled down as well, helping her to pick up the papers. She looked to him. "No really you don't ha-" she started but cut herself off with a gasp as she caught a look of his face under the light of the streetlamp.

He had a long pale face with two small scars coming from under his left eye which was a stormy blue color. He had another small scar over the right side of his mouth and yet another that reached from the lower right side of his face across his nose to his upper left cheek. But what was most unsettling was the X shaped stitching on the right corner of his mouth keeping upturned into a permanent smile, and his right eye...it was horrific. It did not even appear real, no it wasn't real, it was glass. The eye was that of a life-sized doll. It appeared the man had gouged out his original eye to replace it with this one which was a pinkish red in color, seeming to have a faint luminescence to it. She again dropped any books or papers in her hands, falling backwards, saving herself with her palms, scrapping them.

She scrambled to get up and turned to run from the young man. She was not even able to take a few steps away before he already had his long arms wrapped around her. She struggled and screamed “Somebody help me!" " Shhh my doll, everything will be alright, let me make you beautiful." he whispered in her ear as he moved his hand with a cloth in it over her nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was forced into her nasal passages. She tried to hold her breath, but it was already too late. The world around her got fuzzy and then everything went black... Eventually Emily's eyes began to flutter open.

At first everything was a blur however things soon became clear. She was in a dark room only lite by moonlight shining in through a half boarded up window. She was sitting in a chair and she could see things laid out on the floor before her. Different doll parts lay on the floor, heads, limbs, torsos... There was also a set of knives, scalpels, and clay working knives laid out on a rag stained with blood. Emily started to panic, feeling her heart jump into her throat. She wanted to quickly escape this nightmare but to her horror she found that she could not move. Her body was like a rock.

She could only move her eyes which were now darting around the room in a panic. She looked down at herself. Her hands were laid folded in her lap and she was no longer wearing her blue jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie. She was now dressed in an ornate gown made of a dark blue silk with white lace and ribbon including a red sash around her waist and a pink bow at her bust under ruffles that covered her upper chest.  She wanted to cry for help but that was also no use. It seemed her lips were glued together. She whimpered as salty tears rolled down her cheeks. Out of the shadows approached the tall thin figure from before.

He went to her, a smile in his lips. “Oh, you're awake. How lovely. Emily." he said with his smooth voice. Her eyes looked to him in fear. How did he know her name? Had he been stalking her? Or had he gotten her name from her books? Either way it didn't matter right now. She was in the hands of this monster. “I’m going to make you beautiful, okay? Don't worry, I'm sure you've learned that you can't move, so you won't make me mess up." he told her. Emily whimpered more, internally screaming.

“First off we must give you a smile." he told her and lifted a needle to her face. He punctured her skin with the needle, sewing the corners of her mouth upward into a permanent smile. She may have been in a sense paralyzed but she could feel everything. More tears rolled down her face. The figure then took some paints in hand and gave her luscious red doll lips and made her skin pale as snow with blush on the cheeks. He smiled, proud of his work in progress "My name is Vine Volikov, by the way." he told her, as if they had just met, as if they had potential to be friends. Emily could do nothing but watch as he continued. She felt a surge of hate for this man, this man that was destroying her. But fear and disparity dominated the rage as she watched him. Vine proceeded with his creation. He took a hair buzzer and buzzed all of her hair off.

She sat there. It took a couple hours as the man sewed new locks of hair into her scalp, beautiful powder blue locks. She felt everything, all of the pain. At this point no more tears could fall, she had run dry. All she could do was agonize inside this shell, the shell that was her body. She couldn't take much more of this...she knew she would die in this place... Vine finished with her hair and looked to her, smiling. He held up a handheld mirror for her to see. " Isn't it gorgeous? Don't worry Emily, we are almost done, you will be perfect soon enough." he told her.

She looked to the mirror, all hope was lost from her eyes, no spark, nothing. She looked at her mutilated face. How could he call this beauty?  She didn't think it could get much worse. She was just waiting to die. "Now for your eyes." He told her. She looked to him, eyes widening. What did he mean? Her eyes? Like his? Before she could even process what was about to happen, he dug his fingers with his long unkempt nails into her eye socket, digging out her eyeball. Blood gushed.

Her screams were muffled by her closed lips. Her remaining eye rolled back in pure pain. Vine then proceeded to do the same to the other, digging it out with his fingers. He smiled, feeling accomplished. He looked over her face. "Hmm the blood has ruined some of your makeup. Perhaps I will do the eyes first next time." he told her. She was no longer listening. She couldn't, she was writhing in pain on the inside and growing weaker by the moment.

Holding on by merely a thread but what was the point of holding on anymore? The young man then inserted glass red doll eyes into her empty sockets and sewed her eyelids open. He fixed her makeup and gave her fake eyelashes. He ripped out her nails and replaced them with fake ones. She could not see, she could not move, she could not speak. She truly was like a doll now. She was trapped inside her own head, only able to feel, only able to feel the pain an unable to defend herself from it.

She was truly and utterly trapped. Her body was unable to handle all the abuse. With the drugs the man had given her to get her here and to keep her from moving, with all the mutilation he had done to her body it was starting to give out.  She could feel her previously rapidly beating heart start to falter.  She was giving up, what was the point in holding on anymore? She was alone, and trapped, and ruined.  Her body and mind had experienced too much. Without a word, without a gesture of goodbye, without the chance to get one last look at the horrid world before her, she was gone. Once The Doll Maker completed his work, he held the mirror up to the fresh corpse. “Aren’t you lovely Emily? So beautiful." he told her with a smile. "Come Emily, let's put you on display for everyone to see." he said and broke the joints of the lifeless body, it would make it easier to display her. “Let’s show everyone how I made you beautiful."

The next morning the remains of Emily Rider were found in the park, displayed sitting on a bench, hands folded daintily in her lap. Cause of death, blood loss and trauma. The news was quick to report about the horrific scene, dubbing the killer be called "The Doll Maker."

## The Doll Maker III: Merry Christmas

I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. Puffs of my breath were visible in the cold of the winter night. I was late, late again. I would miss the bus if I didn’t hurry. I clutched the shopping bags tight in my hands. I had decided to do a little last minute Christmas shopping. And when I say last minute, I really mean last minute. It was the night before Christmas Eve and I was not prepared for Christmas. None of my family was…

I panted as I reached the bus stop. It was lightly snowing but I was still sweating under my winter coat. With a slight sigh of relief, I slumped onto the bench, setting my bags of gifts beside myself.  I looked down at my cold hands and rubbed them together. It was late but I could still hear the faint sound of the Nutcracker playing in the distance. I felt a knot form in my stomach as my lips turned to a frown. I wasn’t looking forward to Christmas. No, not this year. It would be the first Christmas without my little sister Amy. No, she wasn’t dead, or at least we hoped not. She had gone missing only a couple weeks ago. She was supposed to be on her way home from a friend’s house one evening, but she never made it home.

She is only 14. My parents had filed a missing persons report but it already seemed like they were giving up. I prayed every night hoping she would return home, but my prayers go unanswered. Mom is in denial, and Dad won’t talk about it. Everyone thinks she is dead. I don’t want to believe that, maybe I am in denial too. I missed her sweet laugh, her bouncing red curls, her cute freckles I used to tease her about. I missed her calling for her big sister when she wanted someone to play games with her or help her with her homework... I let out a sigh, trying to push the thoughts from my mind. I didn’t want to start crying and have the bus come and have me looking like a wreck. Surly I could hold it in until I got home… I hadn’t missed it right? I was worried. Where was the bus? I glanced around, there was no one else at the bus stop but I couldn’t have missed the last bus for the night.

It was snowing, but definitely not bad enough to cause the bus garage to stop the buses. There was no one at the stop with me. But when I glanced over, I noticed something sitting on the other end of the bench.  I tilted my head slightly in curiosity. There was a little ball jointed doll siting there.

She had long straight black hair with skin as pale as the moon and bright green eyes. Her dress was made up of red and green ruffles and lace. White fur was on the collar of the dress as well as on the cuffs. She was beautiful and certainly matched the holiday season.  But what was she doing there? Had someone forgotten her? I reached over, gently picking the doll up into my cold hands. I examined the doll more closely, brushing the little bit of snow off that had accumulated on her. The details were exquisite. I noticed some beading on the dress and her face was painted so well. Her lips looked so delicate and her little hands, so dainty.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to keep her. She was so pretty. I knew though that I should at least try to find the owner. Maybe I could put up flyers or bring her to the bus garage.  I was so distracted by the well-crafted doll that I was completely unaware that someone had come up to me. I jumped slightly as suddenly I noticed a tall figure looming over me.  I looked up quickly, heart beating fast. “You like her?” the figure’s calm smooth voice asked me. I looked to him. It was hard to make out his face due to the fact his back was facing the light of the streetlamp and it was quite dark out. It also did not help that he had long messy hair, much of it falling in his face. He was an intimidating figure, but his voice seemed to make my fright melt away. “O-oh uh yes. She is beautiful, is she yours?” I asked, looking up at the tall man. He had to be a little over six feet tall. “Yes of course, I made her; it is my job after all.” The man told me, a soft smile forming on his lips.

I blinked in surprise. “You made her? Really? That’s amazing” I said in disbelief and admiration. I looked back down at the gorgeous doll that rested in my hands then back to the man. “So, you're a doll maker then?” I asked him. His smile grew a bit. “Oh yes, I am a doll maker, the best. I am always adding new dolls to my collection.” He informed me. I smiled to him. “Wow, that’s really cool.” I told him and then held out the doll to him. “I guess you forgot her here?” “I never forget my dolls. She was here waiting for someone, waiting for a lovely lady like you.”

He told me, seeming to get closer. I blinked, confused and suddenly feeling uneasy. What did he mean? It made me uncomfortable. I slowly pulled my hand back, still holding the doll. “O-oh, why is that?” I asked nervously and as I set the doll aside on the bench. I planned to make a run for it, to get away from this guy. Didn’t mother always say not to talk to strangers? I started to stand. “Because, I need to add to my collection.”  He said simply, tilting his head to the side.

As he did some of his hair fell out of the way of his face. I shrieked in terror upon laying my eyes on his. His face!  The right corner of his mouth was upturned into a small permanent smile due to X shaped stitches. There were scars, but his eye! His right eye didn't even look real! It looked like glass with a pinkish red colored iris. The color almost seemed to have a luminescent glow in the moon light.  How had that happened to him? Had he done it to himself? I wasn't sure but I didn't want to stick around to find out.

I quickly turned to run away from him but before I could even get two feet, he had his long arms tightly wrapped around me.  I struggled. “Let go of me!” I hollered, trying to break free from his hold on me. “No, no, no running away my doll. Do not fret, I will make you beautiful.” He told me and placed a cloth tightly over my mouth and nose. I tried to claw his hand away, to get the cloth away. All I could smell was a chemical of some sort.

My mind and vision got blurry as my body grew weak. Soon everything went black. I started to stir; my body felt weak. I wish I could say I dreamed of sugar plums after having such a nightmare but as my eyes began to open, I knew the nightmare was not over. I was sitting in a chair; my hands were resting in my lap and I noticed I was no longer wearing my jeans and huge winter jacket. I was wearing some kind of dress, one with ruffles and lace. One like a doll might wear… I could feel my heart jump up into my throat. I was panicked. I quickly looked up from my lap, trying to see where I was. It was dark, hard to see. It must still be night I thought, if that man was still around. He was. He was standing only a few feet away, at a table. He had a vile and a syringe, filling it with something.

Was that for me? What would it do? Kill me? Make me unconscious again? Before I could even process all the horrific thoughts running through my mind I saw him look to me. “Hmm you’re awake earlier than I expected. Don’t worry, once paralyzed you won’t have to worry about moving too much.” He said and approached me, syringe still in hand. My eyes widened in terror. My body felt weak and now my hands were trembling in fear.

I couldn’t just let myself sit there and let this happen! It took a great effort to fight against the fear that held me back. I managed to get up and quickly knocked the chair in his path as I ran past him. I had no idea where I was or where I thought I was running off to, but at long as I got away from him. God let me get away! I heard a cracking sound under my feet. I glanced down at the floor. Faintly lit in moon light I could see small parts of ball jointed dolls, arms and limbs. A life-sized doll head was right by my feet, it did not even have eyes or hair yet. My eyes quickly darted around at my surroundings, looking for a means of escape.

All I could see was what seemed like a trashed apartment, something that looked abandoned. The only furniture was the chair I had sat in, a tattered sofa and several tables. The tables only had on display beautiful ball jointed dolls, each different, each beautiful. I had no time however to admire their beauty. I could hear his footsteps coming up behind me. I got my body to move again, running over to a door. I gripped the handle, trying to turn it. The knob was broken, only twisting over and over each time I tried to turn it.

It was like torture as my heart pounded harder in my chest, my knees wanting to fail me. My shaking hands were now accompanied by sweaty palms, my hand slipped off the knob. I let out a whimper. I felt like he should have caught me by now. Was I being toyed with? Played with? My only chance was to get through this door. I braced myself and took a small step back and then with all my force, slammed my shoulder into it. There was a crack and clicking sound as the door was forced open. I quickly stepped inside, a smiled having formed on my face from the success, with the thoughts of escape. It quickly vanished.

My eyes widened as I starred at what sat before me. A doll, no, a corpse was sitting there in a wooden chair with her tiny hands folded onto her lap. She was dressed up, much like I was, in a ruffled gown with ribbon and lace. She had little jingle bells as a necklace and a little bonnet, dressed all in red and green. Her freckles were gone as her skin had gone pale, and she no longer had her bouncing red curls but white ones. Her now glassy gold eyes starred at me with her painted lips were stitched in a small smile. Even with all of these modifications, the mutilations. Tears streamed down my cheeks; I knew... "A-Amy!" I cried. Big slender fingered hands rested themselves upon my shoulders from behind and there was his voice...

*"Let me make you beautiful."*