Castle of Dolls

Chapter 2

A gentle and pleasant warmth greeted you as soon as the doors were fully closed. Your soft footsteps echoed throughout the empty room as you observed your settings. The atrium was surprisingly well-lit and clean despite being undisturbed for so many years, although there was still a thin layer of dust on everything.

A glass ceiling soared well above you, revealing the ink-black skies above and a delicate chandelier swayed from it like a bejeweled spiderweb, the crystals twinkling like raindrops caught on silk threads. There were marble pillars at the four corners of the mosaic of a hand gripping a heart in the center of the floor. Billowing drapes of garnet silk still had their luster and brightness despite the years; the wooden furniture was free of any scratch on its surface; and the marble floor didn't bare any marks nor streaks of dirt on it. On the staircase opposite from you was a burgundy rug carpet that looked like a waterfall of blood, and the walls were white with friezes of cherubs and roses. It was almost as if time had been frozen in a single moment, reminding you of flies encased in amber.

Everywhere you turned, every surface was cluttered with excessive wealth to the point of being grotesque. The gilded candelabras, oil paintings, and ebony statuettes all seemed to dare you to even run your fingertips over them. To feel the plush texture of the velvet chaise or the smooth surface of the porcelain vase, maybe even pick up the gilded mantle clock that glinted to your right. And the best part, was that it was all for your taking.

Another unusual thing was the scent of the room. There wasn't the stench of rotten wood and mold like you would have expected, instead the soft and powdery smell of roses wafted through the room like gentle and inviting fingers that crept across your skin. It clouded your vision and beckoned you to take a seat in one of the chairs, and relax for a little bit. To rest your aching feet and enjoy a moment of peace as someone massaged your weary shoulders.

But the sense of disorientation settled in your head and broke it. You lifted a hand to your forehead as you crinkled your brow. This castle had been left untouched for at least eighty or so years... wouldn't it be in a terrible state of disrepair like its exterior would have suggested?

Something wasn't right.

You shook your head and smacked your palm against your temple a couple times before resuming to why you were here. Twitching your fingers, you scoured the luxurious decorations that cluttered every table or mantle within the atrium. You saw that there was a door next to the stairwell, and was nearly hidden by two statues of winged young men that stood on guard.

Passing by the marble youths, you gripped the ornate doorknob and pushed it open. The hinges creaked as they gave in and you slipped inside. It was a small tea room of sorts with powder-blue walls patterned with golden flowers. There were cabinets featuring all sorts of tea sets made from fine china and gilded interiors. In the center was a table with one of the sets already on it, as if it had been prepared for tea for two. A lamp shaped like a harpist sat on a circular rosewood table next to a picture of two lovers in a sunny garden. There was a milk-white divan with a matching ottoman was pressed up against a wall with narrow windows, and next to it was a vase full of fresh, ruby-red roses.

You walked up to one of the end tables and picked up an ivory statuette of love goddess with long ringlets, running a thumb over its polished and cool surface. Every detail, from the folds in her diaphanous dress to the strands of her hair was rendered with a startling and uncanny precise detail where it could be mistaken for the actual thing if you only looked at it. No doubt something like this would be worth quite a decent amount of money.

Giving the figurine a slight nod, you stuffed it into one of the smaller pockets of your satchel for fear of it getting crushed if you put in your burlap sack.

With a satisfied pat, you turned to the other trinkets on the table, and--

Heard something shift behind you.

You yelled and turned to see a porcelain doll the size of a fully-grown man sitting in a velvet chair on the other side of the room, and partially hidden by the gloom.

The doll and had an uncanny, flawless beauty to him: with ghost-white skin that was tinged with delicate pink on his pouty lips and full cheeks. A crown of soft, sunshine-hued curls cradled its graceful face, and it stared at you with a pair of unblinking, green eyes framed by long and black lashes. He wore a white suit with gold trim and an emerald broach pinned to his lace cravat. It sat in the chair with his hands folded in its lap as if waiting for someone to call on it.

You stared at the doll for several seconds before swallowing the knot in your throat. For a long, unbroken minute, you just stood there. The air becoming thick with tension to the point of you feeling it crushing down on your bones. Something about him didn't seem right. Like it was alive and aware. Its eyes seemed too human.

Despite your fear screaming at you to turn around and run, your curiosity was stronger as you came closer to it. Each step you took felt heavy, your fingers tightened their grip on the burlap bag. When you were an arm's length from the doll, you slowly circled around the doll for a better look from all angles. Every detail of it was rendered with a fantastic artistry: from how every ringlet was strategically placed, to the precise slimness of its articulated fingers, and down to even how the folds in the clothes were carefully arranged.

In spite of your dread, you couldn't help but marvel at how the magnificently the doll was as you kept slowly walking around it a couple more times. Throughout the entire time, it still did not move. When you came back to facing its front once more, you exhaled in a slight bit of relief and took a half-step back from it.

It's just a regular, old doll that I didn't notice before. You scratched the back of your head.

But what about that sound?

It could just be the castle settling, you rationalized. After all, it was an old-- maybe even ancient-- building, so it making a couple of odd sounds wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Giving the doll one last look, you resumed scavenging for anything else that would be of high value.

Then an idea struck you.

Maybe there could be more valuable things deeper within.

A smirk stretched on your face and you left the tea room before standing in the middle of the atrium, your feet on both sides of the mosaic hand. You looked up at the flight of stairs and the two passage ways on either side of you. Taking a breath, you stuck out your finger and covered your eyes, moving your hand side-to-side before finally stopping and removing your hand from your face. Your index finger was pointed to the left ground-floor passage that had two pedestals with bone-white urns on either side of it like a pair of footmen.

You approached the arch and turned around to face the doll once more. It still didn't move from its place, but its eyes were still fixed on the parallel wall.

You playfully stuck your tongue out at it before turning your attention back to the grand hallway stretched out in front of you. One one side was nothing but gilded mirrors that stretched up from floor to ceiling, and the other was a series of equally tall windows bordered with heavy, sky-blue curtains with golden tassels. In between them were pedestals that had marble busts of the family that once lived within these walls. On the ceiling, was a fresco of frolicking nymphs and doves with tree branches among fluffy clouds. The floor was white marble veined with streaks of gold and a sea-colored runner rug cut through it like a shimmering river. You quickly walked down the hallway, looking for a door or archway of any kind among the mirrors.

Even though it was a straightforward path, you still were disorientated due to the countless mirrors and the hundreds of bewildered yous reflected back in them. The lack of lighting made it all the more eerie, and you half-expected a phantom to glaring at you from the reflective depths. From the opposite side, the carved and painted women glared at you with their false eyes like judges of the dead. What was once a hall that was filled with the countless footsteps of both nobility and servants alike, only had yours breaking the solemn silence.

After what seemed like hours, you finally saw a white door with gold trim and a crystal doorknob the size of your fist that glinted in the moonlight. You stopped in front of the door, admiring your fractured reflections in the faceted knob before gripping its cool surface. A soft chill ran down your back as you pulled it open, your heart pounding with glee at the kinds of valuables within the room.