Kya's Doll

A Horror Short Story

Original photo by Desertrose7 at Pixabay.

Shortly after receiving the doll from her father,Kya realized it was not like her old ones. This one was like a real baby with arms and legs that moved in all different directions, had natural feeling hair, and lifelike eyes. Kya squealed in delight and hugged it closed to her chest. She named the doll, Charly, short for Charlotte, after the dragon fighting heroine in her favorite fantasy book.

Daddy placed a bottle on the night stand next to a carousel lamp. “When Charlotte wakes up, feed her.”

“Okay.”

The blanket started to slip off the doll’s back. Daddy caught it and showed Kya how to wrap it closed. “You don’t want her to get cold.”

She smiled. “I got it, daddy.”

“Good girl. Let’s put her to bed. When she wakes up, you can feed her.”

“But I want to hold her some more.”

“Be careful. She’ll break if you drop her.”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll be upstairs in my office if you need anything. Try not to wake up mommy. She’s still sick.”

Kya carefully laid the doll on her canopy bed and hunted the messy room for a suitable dress. Within a few minutes, she found one of her old dolls hidden behind some stuffed animals piled against a bookcase. She transferred the white dress from the old doll to Charly.

“There. Now you look better.”

Charly’s unblinking eyes stared up at Kya, the mouth turned up in a small smile. “Kill the ones in your way, Kya.”

“What?”

The doll’s mouth had never moved while it spoke the words. Kya swore they didn’t move, yet the voice did come from inside the doll. She turned to the doorway, expecting someone to be standing there, someone who had spoken those words. Kya was still alone with the doll. She had imaginary friends and she often had conversations with her toys, but none had told her to harm anyone, let alone kill.

“Kill the ones in your way, Kya,” it repeated. “They are trying to hurt you.”

“Who?”

“Her.”

“Mommy?”

Charly didn’t answer. A small smile appeared on her smooth, innocent face.

The room became silent except for the fingertips of the palm tree leaves scratching the eaves outside her window.

Kya stared at for a long time. A little buzzing appeared in the back of her mind, a single bee. Then there were two, then four, a hundred. Growing to a thousand bees, the deafening swarm crowded her mind and ears, but they still couldn’t drown out the doll’s voice.

“Kill her, Kya, kill her!”

The doll’s mouth opened wide, revealing a deep, dark chasm. What was hiding down there? By some kind of magic, the mouth opened wider, as if the abyss would swallow Kya’s face.

A loud gasp echoed in the chasm. The doll grasped Kya’s arm. She cried out and fell back onto her haunches. She felt something in her hand. A red ribbon the width of her forefinger. How did that get there? She must have been daydreaming again. Mommy always said Kya had a big imagination. As she got up, dropping the ribbon on the floor, the swarm of bees left her mind.

Charly’s small, pink tongue stuck out from between her thin lips. Kya tried to push the tongue back inside the mouth, but it kept popping back out. Hmm, she’d have to fix that later. As she adjusted the blanket that had slipped off the doll, she noticed a thin, red line around the doll’s neck that wasn’t noticeable before.

She headed to the hall bathroom with the doll in the crook of her arm. Using a washcloth and soap, she tried to scrub off red line, but it wouldn’t lighten. In fact, the cleaning seemed to make Charly’s skin worse because purple splotches like bruises appeared. Maybe Kya scrubbed the skin too hard. She undressed the doll and bathed her again, this time in the tub and gently rubbed on the soap. But Kya’s gentle touch didn’t matter either. The splotches spread all over Charly’s body.

Kya groaned and gave up trying. She believed her parents had purchased a used doll, cleaning it up the best they could to make it appear brand new. It didn’t matter if Charly was an old doll. Kya loved her the same. She dried and redressed the doll before taking it to the lanai.

For her sixth birthday, her parents had brought home the table and tea set for four of her favorite animals and dolls. Today was a beautiful sunny day for a tea party with butterflies floating in the air between the table and plants bloomed a rainbow of colors in the nearby garden. Birds twittered in the trees. Perched on a branch of the oak tree, a squirrel gnawed loudly on an acorn, watching Kya and her friends.

Placing the doll in her lap, Kya poured imaginary tea into each of the porcelain cups placed in front of Peachy Penguin, Victor the bear, Fluffy the rabbit, and one for herself to share with Charly. She even poured a cup for the stuffed turtle sitting on top of the table in the center. Though it was against manners, Kya only allowed the turtle to sit on top of the table because he couldn’t sit upright in a chair.

“Everyone, this is Charly, your new sister. Don’t be jealous of her sitting on my lap. She’s just a baby and can’t sit on her own. When she grows up, mommy and daddy will get her own chair.”

Fluffy’s head dangled to the side, barely hanging on by a few threads. Stuffing spilled out of the gash in his neck and one of his plastic, beady eyes was missing. Kya didn’t know what caused his decapitation. Mommy could sew him back together when she got better. He seemed to be struggling to speak, mumbling some words.

“No, Fluffy, she’s not going to kick you out of your chair. Now be quiet and sip your tea, like this.” She tilted the cup to Charly’s mouth and dropped it. It bounced off the table and crashed onto the concrete.

“Oh, no. What’s wrong with you, Charly?” The doll had gone through a quick transformation, as if she had come from another world, her eyes a milky color. The bruising in the hands and feet had deepened to the color of a plum.

“Kya?” Her mother, dressed in a robe, stood at the sliding door to the lanai. “Is Charly okay?” She walked towards the tea party.

“There’s something wrong with her. Daddy gave me a bad doll.”

Mommy reached for Charly. “Maybe we just need to change...” Her eyes widened. “Oh no, Kya. What happened to her?”

“I told you, Daddy gave me a bad doll.”

Mommy’s face paled. “I think I’m going to be sick again.” She turned on her heels and hurried back inside.

Kya kissed the doll’s cool cheek. “Mommy might not like you, but I still think you’re pretty.” She wrapped the blanket around Charly, remembering Daddy’s request to keep the doll warm.

A shiny, green fly landed on Charly’s face, and Kya brushed it off. More flies appeared out of nowhere, so many that she couldn’t swat all of the annoying insects away. Maybe they saw that the doll was dirty.

“You guys be good and sip your tea. Your new sister needs another bath.”

Kya then had an idea. Why not cover up the blemishes instead? Just like mom covered up hers with makeup. Yes, makeup. But makeup would rub off. She needed something more permanent, and headed to the garage where she stripped off the doll’s dress. In the far corner she searched the paint cans for a color that matched Charly’s skin tone. It wasn’t perfect, but close enough. Recalling the steps she learned from daddy when they painted her bedroom, Kya pried open the can with a flat screwdriver and began the task of applying a new layer of skin on the doll. Then she recovered the can and carried Charly by the hair to dry in the sun.

Kya yawned, her face warmed by the sun. It was time for her nap, but she didn’t want to leave Charly alone outside, so she laid down on the soft grass.

In the dark void of a dream, Kya held Charly in her arms while walking toward a distant light.

Charly hissed and said, “Where are you taking me?”

Kya didn’t respond.

“Don’t let them get me. Kya? Kya, please, don’t let them...”

Charly’s face morphed into a nasty bird with a wrinkled, gray face and a sharp beak. Her eyes filled with blood.

Kya dropped Charly.

She awoke to the screeching of black birds circling above. She sat up. One of the birds landed nearby, staring at her with its beady, bloody eyes on a wrinkled, gray face. Its beak looked sharp enough to shred her skin. This was the same face in her dream.

Kya snatched up Charly and ran towards the pool bath. The birds squawked louder as they gave chase. Don’t trip, don’t trip. Her legs pumped forward faster and faster, yet she couldn’t seem to put distance between her and the stalking birds.

Their wings beat the air right behind her. She felt the bird’s hot breath on her neck, caught the whiff of rotten eggs and manure.

Only ten steps away from the door. Grasping one of its legs, she swung the doll over her shoulder. She felt a thump. The bird hissed.

Grabbing the door handle, she glanced over her shoulder. The stalker bird had flown off from being hit. She stepped into the bathroom and slammed shut the door, rattling the glass and blinds.

After catching her breath, she dared a peek through the blinds. The stalker bird had joined the others hopping around on the table, pecking at her stuffed animals for a few moments before losing interest and flying off.

“That was close, Charly.”

She smooth back the doll’s hair. The paint on the doll had dried, but now her arms were stiff. That baffled Kya because she knew the insides of dolls were hollow under the thick vinyl. She discovered this when she had cut open another doll with a butcher knife a week ago. Unless the inside parts of Charly were different. That didn’t surprise Kya because daddy gave her a defective doll.

She decided to stay inside the rest of the day until daddy came down from his office. He asked Kya about her day while they shared a stack of chocolate chip cookies and glasses of milk. She told him about the tea party and Charly’s nap. But she kept secret about the doll’s skin changing and the birds in the back yard. She didn’t want him to be worried or embarrassed that she knew her doll was defective. Kya also wanted him to know that she could take care of Charly without her parent’s help.

“Did you remember to keep her wrapped in her blanket like I asked this morning? We don’t want her to get cold.”

“I did, daddy.”

“Good for you, squirt. You’re such a good big sister.”

Kya beamed and dunked a cookie in her milk.

“Did you let mommy sleep?”

She nodded.

“Good.” Daddy wiped milk off her chin with a napkin. “Finish the cookies. I’m going to check in on her, make sure she’s doing okay.”

“Okay, daddy.”

“Remember, Yuri and her parents are coming over tonight to help with things around the house because mommy is still sick. They are very nice people to help out.”

“I can play with Yuri, show her Charly.”

“She will like that.” He left the kitchen.

When the Masaki’s showed up that evening, Kya couldn’t wait to show Yuri the strange doll.  Yuri had the appearance of a porcelain doll with dark eyes, long dark hair, and smooth, pale skin.

In her bedroom, Kya handed Charly to Yuri. “Look what my daddy gave me.”

“Eww.” Yuri dropped the doll on the floor.

“You stupid. Why did you do that?” Kya picked up the doll and clutched it to her chest. “You hurt her.”

“No, I didn’t. What is wrong with her? Look at her hands. Why are they purple?”

The paint on the doll’s skin had cracked and peeled away in large flakes, revealing the orange skin underneath with dark, purple hands. “I think they bought me a doll that someone else had.”

“But why does it smell? It’s gross.”

“It doesn’t smell bad.”

“Yes it does. And look...is that...?” Yuri’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

“What is that?” Kya brushed off a group of white worms about an inch long that wiggled out of the eyelids.

Yuri screamed and ran out of the room. More worms grew out of the doll’s skin. In the living room, Yuri was telling her parents about the stinky doll. Kya kept wiping them off, shaking them onto the carpeting.

All four parents appeared in the bedroom, Yuri peeking with wide eyes from around her mother’s legs.

Father knelt beside Kya. “What’s going on, honey?”

Kya held out her doll. “There’s something wrong with her. She’s sick.”

Mrs. Masaki backed up, covering her mouth with a pale hand. “Oh, my God, what is...?”

Her husband glanced at the doll, at Kya, and then her parents. “What is wrong with you people? Are you insane?” He turned and pushed his wife and Yuri out of the room. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The front door slammed closed followed by their car speeding off.

A sharp, putrid odor stung Kya’s nose. She gagged on the saliva that filled her mouth and swallowed it into her tightening stomach.

Mother took the doll out of Kya’s hands and wrapped it in a small blanket. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll fix it for you. She will be good as new.”

“Why did you give me an old doll?”

Mother gave father a knowing glance, then gave Kya a weak smile. “We’re sorry, honey, but don’t you remember where we got this doll?”

“Daddy gave it to me this morning.”

“No, Kya. We never gave you this doll.”

“Yes, you did. I told you daddy did. Now give it back.” She lunged for the doll.

Mother pulled back. “Kya, you have to understand where this doll came from.”

Father knelt beside mother, looking at Kya with compassionate eyes. “Honey, please let us help you. The uh...doll is sick and we want to make her feel better. We love her just as much as you do.”

“I want Charly back. Give her back.”

“Not, yet, Kya. But we will in a little while. We’re going to fix up Charly, then you can get her back, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He hugged her, then turned to mother. “Promise?”

Mother smiled. “I also promise, Kya.”

Daddy tucked her in for the night. He found one of her older dolls lying on the floor and put it in her arms. “For now. Until Charly gets better.”

Dreams came and went. Inky swirls of demons whispering in her ear to wake up, wake up, wake up.

Her eyes popped open. In the gloom from the night light, she spotted a shadowy figure slip out of the partially open door.  “Mommy?”

Kya slipped out of bed. Careful not to wake her parents, she crept to the door and opened it wider. A hinge squeaked.

She paused and listened. The house was dead silent.

“Charly?” Why she called out the doll’s name, Kya didn’t know. The figure couldn’t have been Charly. Dolls didn’t walk on their own.

The shadowy figure was gone. Both of the other doors in the hallway were open, revealing the darkness within. Where were mommy and daddy? She called for them, but neither answered. She whimpered. What was going on? Was the shadow figure a bad person that took them away?

She ran through the living and dining rooms.

“Mommmeee! Daddeee! Where are you?”

The kitchen was also dark.

“No, no, no. Where are they?”

Flashes of light through the kitchen window came from the back yard. Kya ducked behind the center island to avoid being seen. If the bad people took mommy and daddy, where was Charly? Kya had to find her. But she had to be brave.

She dared a peek around the counter. Through the glass panes in the back door, she spotted a flashlight sweeping across the back yard. She crawled across the tile floor, ignoring the pain in her knees, and pressed her face against the glass to get a better look. Two figures were moving about on the far end of the lot about twenty yards away, their backs to the door. One of them was digging a hole while the other held the flashlight. The light illuminated the faces of mommy and daddy. Kya sighed in relief. They were safe.

Carefully opening the door so that the hinges wouldn’t squeak, Kya slipped outside. She spotted a bundle lying on the ground between her parents, recognized it as the same blanket her mother used to wrap the doll. Furious, Kya quickened her stride.

Hearing her footsteps, the parents turned.

Mother stepped between Kya and the doll. “Kya, what are you doing out here?”

“What are you doing?”

Father pushed the spade into the ground, then knelt beside Kya. “Honey, we told you we are helping Charly get better.”

“I don’t want you to. I want her back. You can’t bury her.”

“Kya, please understand what we are doing here. This is not what you think.”

“I want my doll back.” She slipped around her mother and picked up the bundle.

Mother snatched it back.

“Give it back.” Kya lunged for the doll, managed to get her hands on what felt like the legs under the blanket, and pulled.

“Listen to me, Kya. This is not your doll.”

“Yes, it is. And her name is Charly, short for Charlotte.”

Kya yanked on the doll with all her might. There was an awful sound of something wet being ripped apart. Kya almost fell back as the tension between them loosened. Spots of blood appeared on the blanket.

Mommy fell to her knees and began to sob. “You were so jealous of her, Kya. Jealous of the attention we gave her. This...this doll you call Charly is your sister. Was your sister. You strangled her this morning.”