#tw darkness

ref/inspo picture:

You looked at where the sound was and saw a door slightly opened, inside dark and dusty. You stared at the room, wondering what had just happened when the door creek opened a little more again. Your eyes widen in surprise, pushing your bum so that you could crawl you started heading towards the door.

Just when you reached the door you were about to grab it only for it to move again opening the door a little wider for you to crawl into the room. With the little light, you saw stairs going down the place. Tilting your head you move so that your legs could touch the stair first, casually ignoring the door the again creek a little more open so that you could move comfortably. One stair at a time you slowly climbed down the stairs as the stairs creaked at your weight.

When you finally reached the bottom of the room there was barely any light, you could only see because of the dull flickering yellowish light coming from the light bulb on the ceiling.

The shadows of the shelves and items on it made it look like peeks of something moving as if curious as to who stepped into their lair, hiding when you looked to see what they were.

Maybe you would have been scared seeing broken dolls, arms and legs without a body and torsos without heads. Most would probably be terrified to see the sudden tilt that a broken doll made when you got close to it, the sounds echoing almost like a crack.

There were tears in some of the faces a blue line from the eyes to the cheeks or the cracks around the hollow eyes of another. They were different from the dolls on the upstairs, where the dolls all smiles with a bright light that made them beautiful. These dolls were angry, wallowing in agony almost screaming, the beauty they once had made them ugly and spiteful.

You didn't see that, so you kept on exploring as if you were searching for something. Maybe you did, but you were a child, a baby really… You didn't know. Didn't understand.

You were clueless, to their anger. You didn't care how they tried to drag you down, making you struggle as you pushed yourself to move a little more than before. The air heavy.

Crawling around the basement not caring how your hands and knees were coated with dust you continued crawling till you found the back of the basement.

You didn't know what you were looking for yet when you looked at the last row of shelves you crawled towards it and slowly stood up holding the shelf bars as support. On the third shelf reaching for it, you grabbed something.

Taking it you fell on your butt again, yet you didn't cry staring at what was on your hands yet could not see because of the shadows that blocked your sight.

Yet you thought it was a doll… Was it a doll you weren't sure, it felt wet, almost slimy on your hand.

You didn't know what you were holding till the door opened. It was wide open letting the light in as your mother called out your name in worry and fear.

Where are you?

You didn't say anything still holding in your hand you crawled towards the light till your mother found you and picked you up. She looked at you worriedly, asking why were you here, why are you so dirty and if you got hurt anywhere.

"I never thought I would be seeing this doll again…"

The thing you were holding tightly in your arms was suddenly taken away from your small hands. Your head moved to your grandfather to see the thing that you were holding on to was a doll. It was a beautiful doll, not dusty... nor wet just really pretty that you tried to reach the doll out again.

Pretty...

Your mother's sudden shriek surprised you, as she grabbed your hands. Your grandfather was also surprised when he saw your small hands blacked as if you dipped your hands in black ink. 

Your mother took you out planning on going to the bathroom or kitchen sink so that she could wash off the substance that coated your hands.

As she took you away from that dusty room you looked back to your grandfather and the doll.

Where are the stairs?

It was later when you were in your mom's arm, cleaned up with most of the black ink gone from your hands you listen to your grandfather talk about the doll that you found.

Compared to others it had an interesting story where it was made in Russia. 

Or at least parts of it were.

Your grandfather's friend of a friend or a friend of a friend had gone to Russia and was found this build a doll set. He wanted to gift it to someone but the person who he gave it to wasn't interested in dolls that the box moved from a few hands till it reached your grandfather.

Interested in what the box had your grandfather started to slowly build the doll but because he was unsatisfied with a few of their parts he threw them away and instead replaced some of the parts with his own.

Your grandfather was surprised when he saw a small light coming off from the doll when he was finished, the doll wasn't really made by him from the ground up after all like the other dolls.

He didn't think much of it back then because soon after he lost the doll. He didn't know how he lost it, thinking that he had left it on the work desk only to come back seeing nothing on top of it.

To find it in your hands long after your grandfather almost chuckled but there was a solemn look to his eyes when he saw how dull the light was on the doll. As if it was barely there, its life almost dried up.

The small whining sounds you made as you tried to reach for the doll again made your mother speak up. Telling you that the doll was dirty and that you could get sick. Your grandfather looked at you, your tiny hand reaching out for the doll again, your eyes trained on it when your mother tried to pull you away from the doll on her lap.

Somehow… somehow your grandfather knew something was odd... unnerving... something your mother could not see from this situation.