House of Dolls

England – 1824

The haunting glow of a late November moon settled across the grounds of Gresham Manor. The rolling, grassy knolls were manicured and pristine, with weathered cobblestone walkways spanning the grim, gated courtyard. Though the landscape was sparse, with only a few neglected black rose bushes posing as scenery, the ambiance of Gresham at night was misleadingly serene. The architecture of estate was menacing, with rich, gray stonework and black shingled towers protruding from the roofline. Grand, Victorian windows were fogged over, and dark metallic candelabras served as exterior lighting along the sidewalks and main entrance. Inside, a rather ornate grandfather clock, which resided within the manor’s expansive foyer, let out a melancholy chime – 3:27 a.m.

“Caroline.” A frail voice lulled from the estate’s spacious common room.

“Headmistress?” A petite and polished woman, dressed in freshly pressed nursing garb, strode in from the empty hallway, her white heels orchestrating a rhythmic clanking sound against the hardwoods.

“It’s nearly half-past three, you should begin your rounds now.”

“Right away, ma’am.” Caroline nodded, pivoting on her heel and setting off down the dimly lit hall. A few moments passed before she reached the marble stairwell. The golden fixtures on the railing glistened against the muted lighting of the night. She ascended the building, step by step, as she approached the second floor.

“Evening, Nurse.” A security guard nodded curtly as she reached a gated entrance to the hallway that led to the housing wing.

“Henry.” She replied. “Just making my rounds.”

“Certainly.” The sound of keys rattling against the steely gate broke the pensive silence that lingered between them. “There you are.” He purred as he pushed against the heavy bars, the old door joints greeted them with an ominous screech as he did.  

“Thank you, Henry.”

“Have a good night.”

“You as well.” Her voice trailed off as she stepped into a room just past the security gate. The room was faintly lit, but Caroline knowingly made her way around its boxy confinement, collecting a variety of nursing supplies and medication as she did. Carefully placing the equipment on a small, rolling cart, she set off down the dark housing wing once more. Her breath labored within her chest, for just a second, as Henry closed the security gate behind her with a loud clang.

As she rounded a corner, her eyes were met with a sudden onset of light. Massive, wooden doorframes lined a long corridor, with a small lamps illuminating each one. The front wheel of her supply cart squeaked repetitively as she pushed it down the hallway. Her eyes scanned a brass plaque along the wall briefly as she passed by, just long enough to take in the words that were engraved there – Gresham Manor: Sanatorium for Troubled Young Girls. 

Caroline fumbled with a sheet of paper that was hanging from her cart. “Room 002 – Emmeline Leighton.” The wooden door, with a small, dark stained glass window in it, creaked as she unlocked it and pushed her way inside. The room was petite, but beautiful. A gorgeous, grand window was nestled into the ecru wall, allowing moonbeams to paint shadowy pictures on the floorboards. There was not much furniture, merely a wardrobe and a small bedframe with neatly laundered white bedsheets.

“Still awake at this hour, Emmeline?” Caroline’s voice broke the silence of the room. She turned towards the corner, where a small, blonde-haired girl, age six or seven, was playing with a dollhouse. The girl was dressed in a white cotton in-patient robe, and her blonde hair was straight but brittle, falling just above her hipbones. 

“I’m playing.” Her meek voice cracked as she spoke, though she didn’t bother to turn around to greet Caroline.

“I can see that, but it is time for another round of your medicine, I’m afraid.” Caroline skillfully extracted a thick, clear liquid from a glass bottle with a rather daunting needle. She squirted some from its tip, ensuring that the proper dose was ready to go.

“I don’t want to take that, it makes me sleepy.” Emmeline cooed.

“That’s the point, Sweetheart, you need your rest to get better.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Physically, no.” Caroline struggled to find her words. “But sometimes our brains can get sick too, and we have to take care of them just like we have to take care of our tummies when we get a stomachache. Do you understand?”

“I guess.”

“Good girl. Now come sit on your bed, and we’ll make this quick and painless, alright?” Caroline patted the firm mattress of Emmeline’s bed. The little girl sighed, laying the doll she’d been holding down beside several others. The dolls were stunning. Glass bodies, colored faux-hair, and elegant, hand-sewn dresses. The one she’d been favoring had blonde hair that fell to the doll’s waist, just like Emmeline’s. Though her eyes were sapphire blue, unlike the child’s.

“Ready?” Caroline tapped the needle once more as she lifted her sleeve. Emmeline let out a sigh, but dejectedly lifted her head. “Right then.” Caroline suppressed a gasp as she looked into Emmeline’s eyes. It never got easier. They were the blackest eyes she had ever seen. She searched them for a moment, though Emmeline never even blinked. Not even as Caroline stuck the long and piercing needle into her delicate flesh. She never blinked, and her eyes, those pitch black eyes, simply stared upon her dollhouse.

England – 2017

           Sunshine flooded the dorm room of university student, Leighton Emmerson. It was a crisp November morning and a gentle, cold breeze wafted through the room sending a chill down Leighton’s spine. She turned over in her twin-sized bed and wriggled out of the sheets. The window closed with a ‘thud’. She ran her hands along her arms, longing for the warmth of spring semester.

           “Leighton, get out of bed, ten minutes until the house meeting.” A bold voice rattled the room as a perky, red-haired girl trotted in through the big wooden doorframe.

           “I’m up.” Leighton’s voice was groggy, but she couldn’t stifle the giggle that escaped her lips. “How are you so chipper in the mornings, Kate?”

           “I’m just a naturally exuberant person.” Kate flipped a lock of crimson hair over her shoulder, revealing the Greek letters ΔΩλλ on her sweater – Delta Omega Lambda Lambda.  

           “Naturally exuberant, my ass! It’s tequila and espresso fueling you, don’t deny it.” Leighton laughed as she shoved her friend jovially.

           “Maybe, maybe not, you’ll never know.” Kate chuckled. “Now hurry up, I’ll save you a seat.”

“Right.” She replied as she tied her waist-length blonde hair into a braid, and swiped a bit of mascara on her lashes, brightening her sapphire eyes.

           A few minutes later, Leighton descended the elaborate marble stairwell of her sorority house. Her Birkenstock sandals padded across the hardwoods of the hallway with ease as she rounded the corner into the common room. The room was littered with sorority sisters, a sea of beautiful, youthful undergrads who were all proudly dressed in varying Greek-life apparel.

           “Good morning, sisters! Welcome.” An enthusiastic brunette stood in front of the group with a clipboard in hand. “Let’s get started, Dolls.” She smiled brightly. Leighton couldn’t help but snicker at her use of ‘dolls’. Delta Omega Lambda Lambda was notoriously called the House of Dolls across campus. It always seemed cheesy and ironic to Leighton, but she embraced it nonetheless.

           After an hour of their house president droning on about fundraising and social events, the girls were finally dismissed to return to their dorm rooms. Leighton eagerly retreated into her private suite. She joined the House of Dolls for social interaction, but there was something about her room that made her feel at peace in isolation. Whatever it was about Room 002, she knew it was something special.

England – 1824

           Nights passed in a blur of regularity at Gresham. Caroline started her rounds at half-past three every night, stopping to chat with Henry at the guard gate, fumbling with her keys that never seemed any easier to locate. The repetition wasn’t something that bothered her, except for one thing that grew increasingly peculiar as each night wore on. Emmeline. Emmeline and her dolls.

           “Hello, Emmeline. It’s that time again, I’m afraid.” Caroline’s voice was shallow as she entered Room 002. The moon was shadowed by a thick cloak of storm clouds, so the bedroom was especially dim. Nevertheless, Emmeline sat in the corner by the window, as she did every night, playing idly with her dollhouse.

           As Caroline began to ready Emmeline’s nightly medication, she took a moment to observe the young girl. Instead of resting nonchalantly on the floor, each of her dolls were placed carefully in a particular room of the doll house. Except the blonde doll, the one that seemed to be her favorite, she was standing just atop the staircase inside the dollhouse. Next to her stood a little red-headed doll as well.

           “What are your dolls up to this evening, Emmeline?” Caroline knelt down beside her, the hardwood was cold against the thin fabric of her nursing tights.

           “Everyone’s asleep.” Emmeline’s voice was soft. “Everyone except these two.” She pointed to the blonde and red-haired dolls that stood atop the stairwell.

           “Well, what are they doing?”

           “They’re arguing.” She said. Her face remained placid as she wrapped her hand around the waist of the blonde doll.

           “Well that’s no good. What are they upset about?” Caroline rested the needle full of medicine atop her knee as she studied the child closer.

           “They’re not upset.” The darkness of the bedroom seemed to make Emmeline’s blackened eyes even more void. She took the red-headed doll in her other hand. 

           “Humph.” Caroline frowned, but decided to let her curiosity go. “I’m going to give you your shot now, alright?”

           “Okay.” Emmeline didn’t look up.

           “There.” Caroline nodded as she finished administering the medicine. “Sleep well, Emmeline.” As she turned to leave Room 002 she stopped to watch the girl play for a moment. There was no dialog in her game, no expression or chit-chat, she simply held the dolls, one in each hand. After a long moment of cradling her dolls in her tiny hands, however, Emmeline pretended as if the blonde doll tripped the one with the cherry hair, sending her tumbling down the stairwell, landing in a crumpled heap on the first floor. Caroline frowned as she watched the make-believe violence, and the lack of emotion that exuded her tiny patient. It left an uncertainty in her stomach, one she couldn’t shake.

England – 2017

           Leighton tossed about in her bed, insomnia wrecking her slumber. She turned to study her alarm clock – 3:43 a.m. She scoffed. Her restlessness won out, however, and she climbed out of bed, sliding on her slippers and sweatshirt as she did. Surely a glass of milk would help her sleep better. After all, she had an 8:00 a.m. math class across campus, so she needed her rest. As she shuffled down the corridor, her eyes struggled to focus on her surroundings.

           “Shit!” A voice startled her as she collided with something in the dark.

           “Owe!” Her own voice echoed as she rubbed her shoulder that had taken the brunt of the impact.

           “Leighton?”

           “Kate?”

           “Yes.” Kate’s voice was sleepy but ever-chipper.

           “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

           “I was downstairs, on the tele with Brad.” She murmured. “What are you doing?”

           “Can’t sleep. I wanted a glass of milk.” Leighton sighed as she continued down the hallway. Kate turned to follow her. The two girls chatted quietly, so as not to wake anyone. They reached the top of the stairwell.

           “Brad’s pissed at me because I won’t join him in Mexico over holiday.” Kate’s voice broke the silence.

           “He’s so controlling.” Leighton rolled her eyes. “Why do you put up with him?”

           “He loves me.”

           “That’s not a good enough reason, Kate.” Her annoyance, and sleep deprivation, was growing ever-apparent.

           “It is to me.” Kate frowned. A long moment lingered between them before Leighton spoke again.

           “Well, I’m going to get my milk. You should go back to bed, Kate.”

           “Yeah.” As Kate started to turn, Leighton took off down the stairwell, her leg stretching out across the marble surface. Kate’s foot tangled against hers in the dull lighting, and before Leighton could process what had happened, Kate tumbled down the stairwell landing at the bottom in an inhumane position.

           “KATE!”

England – 1824

           Sunshine flooded Gresham Manor as Caroline walked along the housing wing. She was on an abnormal dayshift for once, covering for a nurse who had fallen ill, before her usual night rounds. She embraced the brightness of the estate, it was so rare for her after all. It was just after noon, so most of the patients were either in treatment sessions or were enjoying some yard-time in the garden. Caroline, however, had had a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach all morning, one she couldn’t rid herself of, so she decided to drop by Room 002.

           Her keys jangled as she unlocked the door, but sure enough the room was empty. A steady stream of sunlight poured in through the window. Emmeline was in treatment, so Caroline took a moment to look around. The room seemed shockingly ordinary, that was, until she came upon the dollhouse.

           “What-” her voice hitched as she took in the sight before her. Resting on the floor, in front of the bathroom of the dollhouse, was a black-haired doll with a needle jabbed straight into her left eye. Caroline gulped as she picked up the doll. Where had Emmeline even confiscated a needle from? Had she been negligent?

           “You found my dolly.” A youthful, haunting voice sounded from over Caroline’s shoulder. She turned on her heel to face a familiar set of black eyes, eyes that looked far more menacing than ever before.

England – 2017

           Leighton sat atop her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. It had been several days since Kate had fallen down the stairs. Her best friend – dead. She couldn’t comprehend how it had happened, but she knew that it was her fault. Intentional or not, it was she who should be blamed. Dark circles encompassed her eyes, for sleep had eluded her since the accident. Her blonde hair was brittle and frayed, and permanent tear streaks stained her cheeks.

           “Oh my God!” A blood-curdling voice thundered from down the hall. “Somebody help! Call an ambulance!”

           Leighton ran out of Room 002, and joined the frantic mass of sorority sisters hurrying down the hallway to the bathrooms. Leighton could barely stifle her scream as she and all the others froze in front of the bathroom door. Jill, a senior sister with midnight black hair, was flush against the tile with a needle protruding from her left eye. Blood oozed down the length of her pretty face, making Leighton’s stomach churn.

           “What happened?” A girl asked.

           “We were piercing her ears…” Jill’s friend wept. “I don’t know how it happened, it’s like all of a sudden she just passed out or something, and I missed, and…”

           “Somebody get help.” The first girl called out.

           “NOW!” Leighton cried. 

England – 1824

           “What is this?” Caroline’s voice was muffled as she held the black-haired doll in her hand.

           “Punishment.” Emmeline took a step forward.

           “Emmeline…”

           “All of them deserve to be punished.” Emmeline skirted past Caroline, kneeling on the chilly ground before her dollhouse. Her eyebrows knitted together, hooding her dark, dark eyes as she took in her dollies, studying them… judging them.

           “Emmeline…” Caroline backed up, reaching for the handle of the door.

           “They. Must. Be. Punished.” Emmeline turned to face her. Her voice was irate.

           “Emmeline, why aren’t you in treatment?”

           “They must be punished.” Emmeline smiled. It was the kind of smile that never reached her eyes, and there was something sinister about the child’s expression. Something wicked loomed deep within her. “They’re the real troubled girls.” Her voice was chilling. Caroline choked on her words as she watched Emmeline take out a single match, striking it against the post of her wardrobe, and letting it fall upon the dollhouse.

           “Oh God.” Caroline whispered, horrified. She turned to run down the corridor, desperately seeking help. The child, her patient, who seemed simply reclusive, was far more disturbed than she could’ve ever known.

England – 2017

           The sound of sobbing filled the housing wing of the House of Dolls. The girls all watched as Jill laid bleeding, losing consciousness. They waited for the ambulance, praying it might get there in time.

           “What’s that smell?” A voice broke the stillness of the sorority house. 

           “It smells like…” Jill’s friend started to say.

           “SMOKE.” Leighton pointed to the end of the hallway where flames and thick black smoke plumed around the utility closet. “Fire!” She reiterated.

           Hysteria ensued as the girls shot off down the hallway. It was only a matter of moments before the smoke started to overtake them, choking out all of the light that filled the estate. Leighton coughed against the ashes. She struggled to stay standing, her knees buckling as she reached out to steady herself against a partition. Amidst her fumbling, she knocked a picture of past sorority sisters from its hook upon the wall, revealing a tarnished, bronze plaque that was barely visible in the smoke. She gasped against the hazy air as she read it aloud.

           “Gresham Manor – Sanatorium for Troubled Young Girls.” As the words left her lips, she fell, collapsing on the floor, black fog overtook her senses. As her consciousness faded, she struggled to maintain her grip on reality. And as the light left her face, she caught a glimpse of a pair of blackened eyes, staring at her from the doorway of Room 002… blackened eyes, which gave way to utter darkness. Darkness that had haunted the House of Dolls since 1824.

The End