#dollow

“Hi there, dollface. What’s a pretty darling like yourself doing this deep in the woods?”

The frail doll purses her lips and clutches her bag tightly, too afraid to take another step. 

She hadn’t been expecting another soul for miles. Not in this area, at least. Hidden amongst the darkness of thick forest canopies, Willow could have continued to wander for many more miles without being found. 

To her dread, she fears that it may have been her frilly dollie outfit that attracted the shadow’s attention. The feeling of someone watching her every step was unmistakable, and she was a fool for thinking that she could blend in.

The monster stares down at her, red eyes burning holes in her dress, rounded with curiosity and amusement. When the dark mass steps from the safety of the forest’s shadows, she sees its inky blackness shift into the form of a suit-cladded man. His skin is pale, like a ghost. And he’s much, much taller than her.

He grins with sharp pearly-whites that are enough to make her lips ache. “Don’t you know better than to wander into the dark? You’ll get hurt, soft thing.” 

Willow feels her throat tighten as she struggles to respond. She wants to believe that this monster can’t hurt her. Nothing can, because dollies can’t feel pain. 

Physical pain, anyway. 

“I—I didn’t… I didn’t know. Please…”

Her lungs hurt from the way she holds in her breath, to afraid to even breathe. Does he want to take her stuff away from her? She’s got her valuables in her pocket: a lighter that was just as cursed as her, and Ashley, her stuffed kitty cat. It would be wise for her to drop her heaviest things and run. 

But, oh, she was so tired from running. Willow always felt quite faint.

The man hums in satisfaction. Everything about him, down to his voice, is rich and dark and sends chills down her spine. He moves closer, and when Willow steps back and finds herself pressed against a tree, she knows that she’s running out of time.

“Poor thing,” he coos. A clawed finger reaches to stroke her porcelain cheek so gently, and the light of his red eyes easily drown out her yellow ones. “You’re trembling. I’m not that scary, am I?”

He blinks once, enough for Willow to see his eyes change to an inky black sclera, before they seemingly return back to normal.

“What strange eyes you have,” she notes. 

“The better to watch you with, my dear.”

The dollie turns her cheek to press against the rough bark as his finger trails to the area of her chin, gently raising her head up and exposing the soft skin of her neck. Her breath hitches, and for a second she thinks about throwing a punch, but fighting back isn’t in her vocabulary. It’s not what dolls do.

“What jagged claws you have, Mr. Wolf.”

He tilts his head at that. “The better to examine you with, my dear.”

She’s haunted, cursed, fragile, weak. She’s of no use to him, isn’t she? Surely he’ll abandon her like everyone else. But right now, Willow can’t think straight, especially as his jaws begin to hover over her vulnerable flesh. 

“What sharp teeth you have,” she says with her eyes clenched shut, voice small and quivering. 

He smiles big and wide. “The better to eat you with, my dear.” 

The dollie is wise enough to know that she can’t possibly make it out of these woods alive, not if she continues to stay glued against him like this. She has to do something, anything. 

With a startled cry, Willow disregards all of her paranoia and shoves him off of her. Despite being unable to feel him, his body turns to smoke in her arms and she feels nothing but the cool, wispy air of the woods. He’s no longer trapping her there, so the doll makes like a cornered mouse and runs.

Laughter erupts from all around her. More white eyes open within the darkness, the trees are never ending. It seems that within the span of a few minutes, the sky has grown much darker.

Willow doesn’t even realize how futile her attempt is. When she trips over a massive tree root— the tears blurring her vision causing her to fall— she knows that it will all be over soon. Landing on rocks and twigs with a heavy thud was enough for her breath to leave her body. 

She freezes as she feels the points of his claws stroke the hair on her head in slow, loving motions.