Demon Stories

Violette: Doll, 1865, France

Violette

Doll

1865, France

The bell on the door of the little shop chimed as I stepped over the threshold. 

The young man behind the counter leaned over and placed his elbows primly on the wood. "Back again, I see," he said, giving a simpering smile which a child would mistake for joy at seeing a favorite customer. I am no child. 

I smiled and opened my eyes a little bit more, "I want to see her again, can I see her again?" I asked, adding a small flutter to my voice, the energy of a dove taking flight. 

"One more time," he said, turning around. I could see the start of his eyes rolling, annoyed at me. As he rummaged through the boxes behind the counter, his back turned, my eyes lost their sweet flavor and stared at him with unhindered loathing. 

I hate the man, but I so do love his dolls. How can such beautifully detailed dolls come from such a bad man. Their delicately painted blushing cheeks like pink virgin buds blooming. His scowling angry mouth. Their wide, sunny, many faceted glass eyes. His dark, cold, bitter look. Its a shame. I just can't stand it anymore. 

He swung around with the robin's egg blue box that I so adore seeing. He put the box on the counter and I gently lifted the box's cover, which read, in a delicate calligraphied writing: Sophie. 

There she was. Her perfect porcelain bisque face. Her shining blue-purple glass eyes, looking almost real. Her golden blonde ringlet cascading down her chest, the rest of her hair piled on top of her head. Her ruffled pale pink evening dress, just like the aristocrat ladies wear. She smiled in such a slightly evil way. Her body is completely porcelain. No wadding or stuffing anywhere on her or in her. She is perfect in every way, a gorgeous feat of modern doll craftsmanship. 

As I picked her up, the man sighed. "I don't know why you like her," he said, annoyed, "she was one of my mistakes. See." He yanked her head towards him so hard that I almost dropped her, and pointed with a large ugly finger, "the mouth. I messed up the paint. The smile's too high on one side. She looks like a stupid clown."

That was it. Too far.

I relaxed my body and looked down at her smile. She smiled up so evilly at me. The smile made her whole face look deranged. So deliciously beautiful. She agreed, too.

I looked back up at the man. 

He was smiling dumbly, but his expression dropped slowly as he saw my smile. He jumped back and crashed into the shelving behind him. 

"What is this!" he shrieked. "Your teeth! Why- your teeth! They--!!"

I gathered Sophie up to my chest and cuddled her. I leapt onto the counter and stared at him, crouched there, trying to make myself look as inhuman as possible. He shrieked anew and looked like he was trying to disappear into his wall. I smiled at him, Sophie smiled at him. The man finally found the door he was inching for and stumbled backwards into it.