Page 8 of The Doll Factory (Horror Hotel)

THE DOLL

A s soon as I hear a soft snore, I slide my arm out from under him and slip off the table. The dress will better allow me to be unnoticed outside. Better than the babydoll outfit I was wearing earlier.

With a breath frozen in my lungs, I tiptoe from the room, careful not to make any sound. How far does his command reach? If I’m down the street, will he still be able to make me freeze when I don’t want to?

It takes genuine effort to ignore the repeated commands to return to his side that flare up in the sides of my mind. To keep my feet moving under me and not turn around.

In order to prevent the automatic thoughts from returning, I quote myself truths.

Your name is Lily.

You were born in Springfield.

You have a husband named Tim.

You love dogs. Wait! I have a dog named Molly. A West Highland terrier.

You hate sauerkraut .

A silent tear drips from my eye…

You have a daughter.

I can’t bring myself to say her name or I won’t focus enough to make it out of the door. Despite the pressure building in my chest, one wanting a sob to escape, I keep my gaze on the red glowing exit sign down the long hall. My way to freedom and the life I once had.

It’s so hard to remember what that was like. Why is it so difficult? Like I’ve been reborn, I burst out into the dark night with a silent cry of triumph. Visions, memories, images flood my mind of who I once was.

A mother. A wife. A fighter .

I was stolen.

It comes rushing back to me as I gain distance down the seeping alleyway that smells of rotted food and piss.

Taken from my home, my place of comfort. Why, though? What was happening?

Some of the facts are still too disjointed to place together.

Air flows through my chest like I recall how to breathe like a normal person again. It’s strange and makes my head fuzzy. Every cool seep in through my nose chills my skin, but heats it again as I exhale.

Do I have to remember how to breathe now?

The street is busy with cars rushing by in a hurry to their lives. Horns blare as the rain softly falls onto me in my lace dress, which almost melts off my body. I have no idea where to go. People blaze past me, shoving me out of the way, and I almost tip over, my body still unfamiliar to me.

“Help!” I yell into the void. “Help!”

I’m surrounded, but no one stops. It’s like I don’t exist.

A taxi sprays me as it hurries by and I step into the street with an arm raised and a quick glance over my shoulder. Fortunately, one pulls over quickly and I jump in the back seat.

“Where to?” The bearded man asks.

“To…” Where do I live? Where do I need to go? The police? My house?

Like just asking made the answer appear.

I rattle off my street address from a deep memory.

The sense that I could be safe and saved is too scary of a concept.

Better to know what a danger I’m still in.

Until Tim’s arms are wrapped around me and the doors to our house are locked, I won’t be able to settle.

Tears fall down my cheeks as we approach our beautiful house.

The yellow light from the dining room chandelier casts long shadows over the clean cut lawn.

Tim’s white Escalade glows from the garage carriage lights as if it had a recent wax.

Neatly trimmed rose bushes decorate the front door.

I’m not sure why I expected everything to be in shambles without me here, but it’s not.

“Twenty-nine,” the driver says and my breath catches.

Money… “Wait right here. I-I have it inside.”

Velvet from the delicate dress gets caught on the seat as I lunge from the cab and hurry toward my haven. Not slowing, I grip the knob on the front door and turn, but it doesn’t budge. Locked. With a raised fist, I pound on the door and cry for my family. “Tim! Tim! It’s me!”

Heavy footsteps approach the other side with a heavy sigh and low question. Murmurs of voices hold a hurried conversation. Shuffles in the distance answer the indiscernible words. Then, silence.

“Tim! It’s your wife!”

My husband throws the door open with a furrowed dark brow, his thin eyes growing wide as his jaw drops. “Lily? Is-is that you ? What are you doing here?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, I catapult myself into his arms and one of his hands hovers on the small of my back.

The taxi driver beeps his horn and Tim glances at him.

“Oh. He needs money, Tim,” I tell him and he nods, then skirts past me to give the man his fee.

While I hasten inside, tiny muscles relax with every inhale of the familiar and soothing scent. Everything is just as I remember. Except clean, like perhaps my mother has been here helping Tim. Maybe he hired a housekeeper.

Tim closes the front door and locks it, the sound of the deadbolt such a welcomed relief. I slump to the ground. Sobs wrack my chest, but I huff out, “Where is she?”

He stares at me like I’m a wounded animal and isn’t sure if I’ll bite. “Who?”

“Who? Our daughter, Tim. Also, where’s Molly?”

“You’ve been gone a long time, Lily.”

With the back of my hand, I swipe my eyes and blink rapidly to clear my vision. “How long?”

He takes a few steps forward and shoves his hands in his pockets. A deep breath is the only answer he gives me, other than continuing those caring eyes. Pity? Disdain? I can’t tell what the emotion is behind them.

“Where is my daughter, Tim? What is happening?”

“They’re with your mother.”

“Oh.” When he kneels in front of me, I ask with some confusion, “Why?”

“Where did you come from?”

“I was taken from… From here , I think. I can’t remember exactly. Some mad scientist did something to my brain, and I ran away. I escaped from his lab. I know it must sound insane, but I did! Look at my figure! Look at me! I’m deformed now!”

He reaches out to stroke some of my blonde hair off my face and brush my cheek. The warmth of his touch calms me. “I almost didn’t recognize you. Let’s get you out of this and upstairs. You must need to rest.”

With some effort, I lean against him and make it to our bedroom. He hustles into our bathroom and I hear the tap run as I peel off the lacy old dress.

When he returns, his phone is out, but he nods toward the ensuite. “Take a bath and I’ll be back. I need to make some phone calls.”

The bubbly, warm water is the first comfort I can remember having in a long time. Other than the orgasms that Dr. Miles forced into me, I don’t recall pleasure. But this is it.

I’m not sure how long I stay in the tub, cleansing myself to scrub the memories of my ordeal off.

“I have your robe here. It’s late. Do you feel comfortable going to bed?”

I jolt as Tim enters, still ready for Dr. Miles to capture me and take me once again. Will that feeling ever go away?

Will the feeling of him in each of my holes ever leave?

“Yes. I’m exhausted, but the police–”

“Yeah, that’s who I called. We’ll make a report tomorrow… You need rest.”

Weariness overwhelms me. With my husband’s assistance, I slip my arms into the robe and make it underneath the sheets of our cozy bed.

He sits next to me and studies my face carefully, as if he’s seeing someone new, but familiar at the same time. “Good night, Lily. Sleep now.”

I do.

* * *

Crescendos of voices awaken me. The clock says it’s only 3am and I consider returning to my slumber, but the argument continues downstairs. Tim is holding an intense conversation with someone. He sounds enraged.

Worried, I slip out from the bed and approach our bedroom door. A sinking feeling arises in the pit of my stomach. The other voice is male, too… The police?

In the hall, I tip-toe past the closed doors to get a better listen until I reach the final one. The guest room is cracked open. Curious, I take a glance inside the darkened room and gasp.

Two long legs bent at an angle rest on the bed. When I press the door fully open, my hand slaps across my mouth to keep from screaming.

A Barbie doll looking woman in pink lingerie lays in a provocative pose in the middle of the mattress, which has obviously been slept on. The sheets are askew and my husband’s T-shirt lies on the floor next to the side.

The woman’s blue eyes meet mine. She could be me now. A doll. Her lips part, but she makes no expression.

Tim’s arguments grow louder and rattle the mirror on the wall as it wanders up the stairs. “She wasn’t supposed to come here ever! I donated my wife for a new one! You never said–”

“There is a flaw.” The sound of that voice makes me freeze in fear.

“Fuck your flaws! She could have shown up when our daughter was here. Do you know how confusing that would be for a little girl? She’s just gotten used to her new mommy and now you’re bringing back the old one?”

New mommy ?! I eye the doll, spreading her thighs wider in front of me. Is this his new wife? Oh, I think I’m going to be sick.

“I didn’t bring her. It’s no matter. I’ll take care of the issue.”

“I want money back.”

“You can take it up with Pert Richards.”

There’s hurried footsteps on the carpet and wood as I scramble for a place to hide. The closet is the only place, but as my hand touches the brass knob, I hear the deep command.

“Freeze.”

I obey.

“I am not impressed with your ability to escape, my doll. Lay on the bed next to your replacement.”

Protests rise inside my chest to blurt out, but I can’t say them. Instead, a frustrated growl parts my lips as I do exactly as Dr. Miles instructs. My skin touches the cold woman that lies next to me, but she doesn’t move.

Tim approaches from the door, his eyes darting between the other doll and me.

Dr. Mile’s scar cinches as he snarls, inspecting my body.

He rips open my robe until I’m exposed. “I will get inside her ass, then you can enjoy both dolls as you please for your compensation. I will take this one for my collection.” He points at my oversized breasts.

His head whips to the side as he warns my husband.

“But, understand, this one is mine now.”