Animosity of the Dummy
(Sequel to Robby Richardson’s What You Deserve) By:
The Serial Killarz
(Robby Richardson & Billy Khydd)
“Which nobody can deny,” a chorus of booming people filled the small break room with their monotone tone.
“Well don’t look so happy about it you all”! Sheryl’s high pitched bark of a voice seemed to sting each one of them. Sheryl was the manager of Office Depot, and she knew how unappreciated she was. However her job was all that she had, but now she would have to give it up. Her old knees could not seem to make the journey that she had grown accustomed too. She had put on some weight she knew that, but her ankles would sometimes swell to the size of softballs. Brady, a taller kid, who always appeared to be on drugs smiled serenely at her. “Kids these days,” she thought as he handed her a large package wrapped in silver paper. Sheryl clapped her hands together which sent her chained golden glasses sliding down her crooked nose. Sliding her glasses back up she ran a hand through her mousy gray hair, “Now that is what I am talking about,” she pushed Brady’s hand playfully, “You guys know how much I love presents”.
Ignoring their polite chuckles, she began to tear off the silver paper, which revealed a large wooden box. The box had strange lettering upon it, which was in a faded language. Sheryl raised her hand and began to slide it along the smooth wood. “What’s this lettering, it looks like it was written for a . . . snake or something”? She looked up at all of them making sure to study ever face. They could all not hate her that much could they? “No it is just some ancient writing,” Brady waving his hand “That is not why we got it”. Brady gave an encouraging look of his eyes telling her to open it.
Sheryl felt her eyes narrow and look suspiciously at him but answering her call from her curiosity. Sheryl began to look around the box, “No Sheryl it slides”. Brady saw the track and slid the front of the box up to reveal a horrifying ventriloquist dummy. Its black hair seemed to be slicked back to reveal a smooth forehead. His white wooden skin seemed cold as dark black circles were traced around its eyes. The dummies chubby cheeks twisted into a wide smile as his mouth drooped open with the shaking of the box. The dummy had a black suit, which seemed to mimic the color of the darkest coal. Its eyes were gray and as Sheryl gazed into them, the doll seemed to portray a dark look about it. The doll gave off a pitiless look. A doll with no soul, nor with the twisted smile did it look like it would ever know what a soul was. “Oh my goodness,” Brady smiled “Oh look she likes it”! Sheryl looked up at Brady his face smiling wider as they all began to give polite uninterested applause.
“What is it,” Brady just continued to smile his uneven beard giving him an unwashed kind of look. “I heard from Annabel,” Annabel gave a small little wave, “that you had a pretty extensive doll collection”. Sheryl eyes fell down to the dummy again whose smile reminded her of something that belonged in a haunted house. In truth it was the most revolting thing that she had ever seen, “Oh you guys are wonderful thank you so much”. She stood up from her seat, “Well that’s it everybody has got to get back to work”. A loud groan echoed around the room, even Brady’s smile had disappeared “We got you a cake and everything”. Sheryl grabbed the wooden box, “We will have it later. We have customers and this all counts as your break.” They all trooped out of the room grumbling with every step a soft whisper filled the air, “What a bitch”.
Brady walked out with his fellow coworkers when Annabel bumped into him. “Hey great doll Brady,” he smiled at her as he watched her blond hair bounce with every step she took. “I have been meaning to ask you, where did you get it?” Brady put his arm around Annabel. They both stopped in their track letting the rest of their team members walk past them. “It was my Uncle’s doll, it meant the world to him, but I certainly wasn’t going to keep it . . . I think Sheryl will give it a new home”. They both began to laugh as Annabel muttered, “She is such a bitch”.
An hour later Sheryl was walking out to her silver Dodge Cavalier, the wooden box held close to her chest. She placed the box onto the passenger seat. She began to stare at the box in and in a moment of curiosity she slid the front of the box off again. There stood the white faced smiling look of a dummy that seemed to look more of a demon than a dummy. “You’re an ugly little bastard aren’t you,” the doll just smiled back at her. “I knew that they all didn’t like me, and I guess your proof of that”. Sheryl placed her hand at her chin as she continued to stare at it, “I guess it is not such a total loss. I’ll get a nice fire out of you though”. She stared into the soulless eyes of the dummy, “I can’t look at you anymore”. She slid the front of the box over the dummy sealing him in the box. Pulling away from the store she took her final look at the store that she had dedicated her life too saying, “Thank god I will never see those people ever again”.
After arriving home and for the first time she didn’t have to worry about work for the week. Her lonely one bedroom apartment was not the same since her husband had left her. She passed by the framed picture of her husband which she had lain down on the dresser. She picked it up and gazed at it fondly. She knew he wouldn’t come back to her despite her constant instances on her change in manner. She could practically hear his rough voice shouting back the day that he had left, “You are just such a bitch”! She remembered him closing the door muttering about her growing old and bitter. “The old goat,” she snarled and placed the picture back on the dresser. She knew that she should throw the picture away. Maybe secretly hoping that one day Richard would come back to her? Maybe there was some part deep down inside of him that missed her. She gazed back to see that she had completely forgotten about the wooden box which sat on the railing that separated her hallway from her living room.
She had forgotten that she had even set it down. She grabbed it and snarled at it in disgust. Was her husband right? Was she nothing more than an old bitch? Sheryl had taken the doll over to the fireplace and placed it next to her. She yawned widely, “Well Mr. Doll, I guess you get to live another day”. She patted the box as if she was petting a dog, “tomorrow”.
She turned from the box deciding that she would make a fire of the dummy tomorrow. Sheryl stretched her arms high as she waddled towards the bedroom. It was hard for her to believe that she would not be there closing the store tomorrow. Her bedroom was small and had the air of never knowing the definition of fashion. The room seemed to have borrowed its fashion from the1980’s. They walls looked to have once been painted in a sunny yellow, but now they have turned to a dark yellow which resembled more bile than anything. Sheryl took her pajamas which were laid across a lime colored chair which carried an old plastic covering. In the morning her new life would begin.
Sheryl woke with a startle in her ruffled pink pajamas. The moon was high in the night sky and seemed to pour into every nook and cranny of her tiny room. She began to feel her face, she was sweating again. Her gaze seemed to fall on the side of the bed that she would have rolled over to hug her old Richard. His side of the bed lay empty. She never had changed the pillow since the moment he had left. Sheryl’s mouth dropped open when her eyes fell upon her door. Her bedroom door was wide open. She had never slept with the door open before. She removed the thick blanket off of her as her feet touched ground with the cold carpeted floor. She walked to the door, how the hell did her door get open? Sheryl placed her hand on the knob and was about to close the door when something stopped her.
She stopped in her spot listening hard. A chill went up her body, something was wrong. There were soft footsteps running through the apartment. “Hello,” she asked softly peering out from behind the door. Her hallway seemed empty and quiet as the night appeared to be. It sounded as if something was scurrying through her apartment. She opened the door wider and entered the hallway. “Hello,” she asked again her hand reached out and began to flick the light switch. The hallway remained as dark as ever. “Damn it,” she said flicking the light switch several more times before finally conceiving to defeat. She began to scan the area looking for the reason for her night time wanderings. “Who the hell is here, I am letting you know that I have called the police and they are on their way over.”
Nobody responded, not even her breathing seemed to be audible. She walked out to the living room relieved to see nothing out of the ordinary. She walked towards another light switch but was not really surprised that the lights remained dead. She gazed into the moonlight and began to rub her shoulders. “Jesus its cold,” she huffed softly watching as her breath appeared like a large fog within the moonlight. A gust of wind played light off of her face and she felt her mouth drop open in shock again. Her sliding glass door, which led to her balcony, was left completely open. The chill that filled her living room seemed to now stick to her like thick Vaseline. Her eyes became wild as she began to scan the room. Terror now replaced her sudden curiosity. She began to walk towards a small wooden table which sat across the room. A telephone sat upon it and she grabbed it with shaking hands. She stopped her breath held as she turned footsteps could be heard again.
A loud bang could be heard as a light filled the kitchen. Her refrigerator had been swung wide open. Her hand began to shake violently as a shadow ran from the light. “Oh my god someone is in the house,” she pushed the numbers 911. The phone rang once, the footsteps sounded like they were running. Sheryl slunk her body against the wall as she heard the refrigerator whir silently. Her breathing becoming harder as her heart seemed to want to leap out of her chest.
“Hello this is 911 emergency, what seems to be . . .” Sheryl cut her off whispering, “Please there is somebody in my house”. “There is an intruder in your house,” the voice sounded of a woman who seemed tired of her job. “Alright we are going to send a unit, what is your address,” Sheryl stopped as she let out a blood curdling scream. “No, this doesn’t make sense,” Sheryl shook her head violently. “No stay away from me you little,” she let out a disbelieving blood curdling scream.
Five minutes later Officer Preckwinkle, a skinny rookie new to the force was kicking open the door and entering Sheryl’s apartment. His gun rose as he yelled “Police drop your weapons”! His flashlight carried into the darkness, and he moved into the hallway. A body lay across the living room floor. His pistol shook in his hand as he moved slowly towards her. “This is the police,” Officer Preckwinkle peered around the corner. Somebody was sitting across the victim’s neck and a horrifying sound made Officer Preckwinkle want to vomit. “Alright raise your hands,” he began to shake as a white face doll smiled back at him. “What the hell are you”! The dummy raised its white hands, which were covered in chunks of skin and blood. Officer Preckwinkle couldn’t pull the trigger. He stood disbelief etched in his sweaty face. He could feel his stomach churning as he gazed down at the victim, whose bottom jaw had apparently been ripped off. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton balls. He watched as the dummy turned back towards the victim. The dummy’s hands dug deep into the eye socket of the victim making the sound of boot trapped in mud. The dummy brought out globs of the contents and began shoveling them down its wooden mouth. Officer Preckwinkle seemed paralyzed by his own fear. He had dropped his gun and slunk away vomiting as he did. His eyes never left the dummy, who continued to dig deep into the victim’s eyes. He was not really sure what to tell his fellow officers who he could here thundering up the flight of stairs towards her apartment.
The End?