Dolla: The Short Story

Chapter 3: Guts, Guts, and More Guts

  The doll disappeared when the screams filled the house. I pushed the covers off of me and ran down the hall to where my parents were, sleeping.

I busted the door open, and what I saw was the worst sight to man. Above my head, strung up on strings, was my father. His body parts were strung apart from his body, but conjoined by a thread. I was so shocked.

I ran downstairs, to find the doll sitting in a chair. It stared at me with those button eyes, and I felt nervous. Then a hand fell over my shoulder. I saw a knife rise over my neck, and it layed just over my collarbone.

"Hope you like Hell." It whispered in my ear. Then the knife slit my throat, and blood poured from the wound. I held it, hoping it would stop the bleeding. It didn't.

My killer took off her mask, and it was not who you think. Standing over me, was my dearest friend Carli. She licked the knife, and smiled at me in satisfaction.