Dolly Dearest (updated verison of a story I posted before. )

Dolly Dearest (updated verison of a story I posted before. )

As I started to regain consciousness, I knew something wasn't right. I felt panic set in as I realized I was strapped to some sort of table.

Festive Fall bouquets and centerpieces and decor for every table during the Fall season!

A big bright light beamed down onto my face. Blinding me. I could make out silhouettes moving around me. The silhouettes began to whisper.

“ she’s perfect daddy, thank you.”

I tried to scream but the gag in my mouth muffled my cries. I heard a little girl giggling as something began to brush my hair. Then I heard more giggling in the corner in front of me.

Only two hours before I was responding to an Ad on Craigslist, looking for a live-in nanny. And the last thing I remembered was ringing the doorbell.

As the whispers continued the light switched off. Leaving me with blind spots that covered the face of what appeared to be a man peering down at me. As the blind spots began to disappear and my eyes readjusted, I was greeted by a toothless, grinning, frail, old man. And behind him sat two dolls.

They were life-size dolls, beautifully dressed

“I want to introduce you to my little girls. On the right is Masha and on the left is Dasha. Say hi to your new mommy girls,” said the man in a creepy, raspy, voice.

“Hi, Julie,” giggled the two dolls. I could hear the sound coming from the dolls, but they didn't seem to move.

“My girls need a mommy, ” said the old man, as he moved over behind the dolls, rubbing their hair, staring at me with a lustful toothless grin.

The old man moved clumsily over to the table I was strapped to and removed the gag that was in my mouth.

“Please don't scream it will scare the girls,” said the old man.

I knew if there was a chance someone could hear me, I had to take it. I began screaming at the top of my voice. Screaming for my life. Screaming in the hope someone would free me from this nightmare.

“Make her stop daddy, ” sounded a voice from the direction of the doll.

As I screamed for my life, the old man began reigning blows down upon my head.

“My God for a frail, old man he was really strong, ” I thought, as the blows kept on coming.

He stopped as I began to lose consciousness. As I faded in and out the old man left the room. Leaving me alone with the two dolls sitting across from me.

As I lied there, I knew I had to escape the clutches of the crazy old man and his creepy dolls.

As I frantically tried to free myself from the straps, I suddenly heard a noise behind me. I looked at the chair, where the dolls were sitting. The dolls were gone. Just as I noticed I heard a patter of tiny footsteps run behind me.

“ Your a bad mommy, ” giggled a voice from behind.

I froze, I was sure I heard the old man leave the room. That's when I felt the porcelain hand of one of the dolls start to stroke my face. As the cold, hard, feel of a steel blade, slid in under my chin.

“Masha, Dasha. Naughty girls, that's not how we treat guest now is it,” bellows a voice from behind me.

I looked up and the dolls were sitting back in the chair. Sitting there just staring at me with their lifeless eyes.

I felt the old man approach from behind. My skin started to crawl, as his cold, bony, hands gripped around my neck. The stale, sickly smell of his breath washes across my face as he leaned in to whisper something to me.

“I could snap your neck like a twig.”

Then with childlike enthusiasm, he skips over behind the dolls.

“I think she could be the one. She seems different than the others.”

My eyes widened. “Others,” I thought.

I knew there and then that if I didn't escape I was never going to see the light of day. I was going to die in this cesspit.

The old man with the same childlike enthusiasm skipped back over to me. He undid the straps. My fight or flight instincts kicked in and I rolled off the table hitting the floor with a thud.

The old man laughed as he landed a foot into my back.

“Broken dolls don't get played with,” he screamed as he landed another kick.

“Broken dolls get put in the room with the rest of the broken dolls.”

As I struggled to catch my breath the old man walked over to the back of the room and picked up a hammer. With a ferocity of pure anger, he furiously started to pound the steel workbench.

As pain surged through my body, my eyes began darting around the room looking for an escape. That's when I spotted the two dolls still sitting there, staring at me.

I mustered as much strength as I could and picked myself up off the floor and grabbed one of the dolls and made a run for the door.

“No, no, no, not my Masha,” screamed the old man as I ran for the door.

I found myself running down a long hall. Strewn about the place were a bunch of old mannequins, that all seemed to have their eyes covered up in some way.

As I'm running down the hall I heard the screams of the old man crying out for his beloved doll.

“Masha, Masha, come back to me, Masha.”

I came to a door at the end of the hall. I slowly opened it, to find a staircase leading into total darkness. I could hear the old man pounding down the hallway. As I made my way up the stairs, the door behind me shuts and I heard a voice rise up from the doll.

“You will never escape us. You will die like the rest of them.”

I continued up the stairs feeling my way through the darkness. The further up the stairs I went, the thicker the darkness got. My senses were completely disoriented. I made my way to the top of the stairs and was suddenly hit with the stench of death.

I slowly started to feel around the walls of the room looking for a switch. As I felt my way around, I stumbled upon a table. I felt what I initially thought was one of the mannequins I had seen in the hall. But as that familiar sense of panic washed over me, I realized what I was feeling was strangely cold and too soft to be a mannequin.

I recoiled in horror and tripped over something on the floor. As I tried to pick myself up, I felt a hand grab my ankle. I heard a strangulated moan come from the mass on the floor.

“Help, help me.”

Panicked, I started kicking whatever had me, till it let go. Scared and confused, I huddled against the wall and began shaking.  I started crying hysterically. I prayed to God that my death would be quick.

A disembodied giggle rose up from the doll and echoed around the room.

“You're in trouble now. Daddy's really mad.”

As I huddled against the wall, I heard the old man pound up the stairs, singing a tune as he made his way up to me.

Ring-a-ring o' roses, A pocket full of posies, A-tishoo! A-tishoo They all fall down. They all fall down,” the old man screams as if it's his last cry into battle.”THEY ALL FALL DOWN!”

The door burst opened. Light from the hall flooded the room, blinding me. My eyes adjusted to the light and the horror that was that room filled my mind. There was a half decomposed body on the table. Dry decomposed corpses strapped to chairs, scattered around the room. There must have been at least ten bodies. The severely mutilated body on the floor seemed to still have a bit of life in it.

I got to my feet. Baring his teeth while hissing at me, he charged right at me. As he came at me the mutilated body on the floor grabbed his leg as it did mine, sending him with a fierce thud to the floor. Then I heard that strangulated moan again.

“Run, run for your life.”

I edged my way towards the door. The old man picked himself up off the floor.

“Take one more step and I will smash this bitch into the floor. I will turn her to dust,” I say defiantly, through gritted teeth.

“Don't you dare,” says the old man.

I raised Masha over my head. The old man collapsed to the floor.

“Please, please not my Masha. Don't hurt my baby.”

As I watched the monster of an old man turn into a pathetic, sniffling, bag of bones. What felt like pure fear, was now replaced by utter repulsion and anger. I defiantly send Masha into the floor, smashing her porcelain face into a thousand pieces.

Something in the old man snapped and without warning, he came charging at me. Tackling me like a quarterback playing for the Dallas Cowboys, picking me off my feet and sending me flying down the stairs missing every step and landing on the floor below knocking me unconscious.

As I came through the old man had me suspended off the ground by my neck. He tightened his grip, cutting off my airways. As I felt the blood fill the back of my eyes. I jabbed my fingers into his, blinding him.

I turned to run and saw an opened window and the last thing I remembered I was running for it.

I awoke and according to the nurses it was two weeks later. I had been in a coma for two weeks. I eventually recovered and after a short stay in the hospital, I was fit to go.

After a thorough investigation, the police never found any trace of the old man, our any evidence of bodies and no sign of any dolls.

It's been eight years now since it happened. I never want back to being a Nanny. Instead, I started a family of my own. I married a lovely man named Sean and Sean gave me a beautiful girl named Aisha, who was turning five.

All was looking great and I was finally starting to put the events of that day behind me. When my husband got back from town with my daughter after a small shopping spree for her birthday.

I'm sitting there drinking coffee when my daughter runs into the kitchen.

“Look, mommy, look what daddy got me. The broken one is named Masha and the pretty one is named Dasha.”

She raises Masha to her ear as if it wants to whisper something to her.

“Masha said you could be their mommy too.”

Submitted May 22, 2019 at 07:56AM by Roos85

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