Dollhouse ~ Ghostbird Fanfic

2• Miniature House

•Nathan•

As soon as our feet land inside the threshold, a chill goes up my spine. I swallow, eyes narrowing on our surroundings. My muscles tense to the point of cramping, ready to pull her out at the first sign of danger. I eye Kota as subtly as I can to see him just as wound up, but considerably better at hiding it.

He gives me a look of warning. I nod. Message received.

I eye the perfect girl with equal parts of suspicion and awe. It's surreal. She's surreal. It's like looking at a life like porcelain doll from one of my horror movies. The dolls who perch prettily on a shelf in overly frilly clothes and unblinking large eyes that watch every movement made, like they know something you don't.

I've never seen a girl like her before. Never have I met one so perfectly pale. Never one so perfectly proportioned and dainty. Never one who's eyes made my heart clench painfully in my chest.

The eyes of a tortured soul. A soul trapped behind beautiful dark sapphires so big they put the stars to shame. Just like a doll.

I eye the foyer we're in and gulp. Aged wallpaper in a ivory and moss colored Victorian pattern cover half the walls. The bottom half is black painted wainscoting. Both travel from the foyer up the box staircase that winds up towards the second floor. The flooring is dark charred wood, creaking with every slightest movement we make. There's a little nook under the staircase, right in front of us. All that is there is this ginormous grandfather clock made of black wood and a stone statue of a screaming cat at its feet. The face of the clock is made of exposed gears and while the minute hand and hour hand seem to work normally, the second hand zooms in reverse like its running from something. I watch with unease as the minute hand ticks backwards one notch every three rotations of the out of control second hand.

Why keep a clock that's broken? Why not get it fixed? This family sure is odd.

Two square archways are on either side. I look to the left and see a family room with grey walls, black etching the uppermost parts like a fire singed it. Wall to wall bookshelves are on the far side and a built in window seat towards the front of the house. Everything besides the walls and floors are black. It's all dusty, cobweb ridden, and empty.

....except for the stuffed bat who looks pissed off as hell as he silently screeches at me from the mantle of the fireplace between the bookshelves.

I gulp again, feeling a cold sweat on the back of my neck, and turn to the other archway at my right. It's pretty empty too. The empty space joins a large kitchen with black cabinets and dark glittery grey countertops. I assume the empty space is where the dining table will go.

I've never been inside here, but I'm finding it hard to believe that even twenty years ago this was fashionable. Maybe the O'day family redecorated before moving?

I eye the cobwebs and dust with pursed lips. Or perhaps not.

Rue stops at the bottom of the staircase, her hands clasped elegantly in front of her. Her ink hair falls over her back as she peaks at us over her shoulder with those empty mysterious sapphire eyes.

"Well?", she simply says.

🥀

The couch lands heavily on the floor after Kota and I drop it. Both of us are panting and hunching over with our hands on our knees. It hadn't looked all that heavy, but that Victorian monstrosity is heavy as hell.