Doll Doll Doll

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					―Doll Doll Doll‖
Written by Andrew Dickson, inspired by Venetian Snares’ album, “Doll Doll Doll”


I am a genius in my own regard. My work and artist expression have no limits. I should
be recognized as one of the most innovative and intelligently creative artists in modern
times, but society refuses to understand me.

My work is highly centered around children, and they inspire and motivate me. I have
never understood why people found my work disturbing, simply because I focus on the
young and youthful.

I take inspiration from the most under-appreciated sculptor of all time: Pygmalion.
Pygmalion was a god among mere mortal men in terms of his artistic talent. For many
years ago, you see, he built the most wondrous statue of the most wondrous woman that
man has ever known. Myth tells us that the statue came to life, after Pygmalion prayed to
Aphrodite’s for his beautiful maiden to become his love.

Pygmalion spent night after night, slaving away over his art to a point where others begin
to think differently of him. One can only assume that such a thing would occur, even if it
is never written directly in any textbook. Pygmalion would not be recognized as talented
by anyone except for The Gods themselves! For acceptance, he had to turn to an
otherworldly being, before a mortal of the planet. Aphrodite of course granted
acceptance and much, much more – for the statue would come to life!

I have always felt that Pygmalion and myself have gone through the exact same
persecution from all others. No one understands what I do, just as no one understood that
wonderful, wonderful statue – even to this day!

Many believe that the statue was a myth and nothing more, but this is only because if
anyone had known of his talent and work, it would put all the most well-known sculptors
to shame. They all know that all their work that they make could never be as good as
that of Pygmalion.

So I have aspired and dedicated my life to create a statue that is as great as that of the
work of Pygmalion’s statue. A statue that would strike tears and awe into all who gazed
upon its beauty was finally to begin.


I don’t know where I am. I was sleeping in my bed a few minutes ago but now I’m not
there any more. It is very dark and scary in here and I want to go home. Everything is so
creepy and I can’t see anything.

My name is Remi and I am eight years old. I can’t find my mommy anywhere and I can’t
move. I think I’m stuck but I’m not sure. It is so cold right now. I can’t feel my legs and
I can’t even see them because it is so dark.

I want to go home but I don’t know where I am. I am so afraid. I wonder where my
mommy is…


I wish I knew what was going on but I’m starting to feel tired. I think I can hear someone
but I can’t see them.

But wait there is a noise or something! It sounds like someone is walking rather loudly.
I hope it’s my mommy coming to get me. It’s getting louder now. I wonder if I should
hide? The footsteps sound kinda scary. The footsteps are loud too.

Ahh! It just got bright in here and it made me jump because I didn’t think it was going to
get light in here. I thought the dark would just stay but now a light is on. The footsteps
are a man walking down the stairs and he’s a stranger.

I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. I think it’s time to leave now. Oh my gosh my
legs! My legs feel and look so weird! I can’t feel them at all! I can’t get up!

I am so scared! I want to go home! Now the stranger is coming over to me and he’s
holding something…I wish my teddy was here.

He has…oh my gosh…he has a shot! He’s going to give me a shot! I hate shots! They
hurt so much! I hope he doesn’t give me one! I always have to go to doctors and get one
for stuff. They are so terrible but I get a lollipop after I get one so that’s the only good
thing I like about them. I hope he gives me a lollipop after my shot because if he’s giving
me one he’s probably a doctor. Doctors gives lollipops so I should get a lollipop.

He’s coming over to me but I think it should be okay because he’ll give me a treat soon.
I just have to take this shot to get better or something and then I can get my lollipop.

Ah! I hate this part! Wait he’s not putting the shot on my arm! He’s putting it on my
neck! Oh my gosh this is going to hurt so much! I’m so scared but I think it will make
my legs feel better or something. Doctors know what to do.

Ouch!!! I feel the shot! He gave it to me! It’s hurts so much!!! I hope that I get my
lollipop now though that it is over. I hope tha…


My studio is now located in a lighthouse which I have managed to rent from a very nice
young realtor. It is very secluded and far away from society’s massive cities, and an old

house exists near which is where I spend my time when not in the studio. The realtor
checks back time to time on me, as he is always making sure that the lighthouse is kept in
good condition – that my studio and sculpting is not damaging anything.

While this would annoy some, for the most part it will be very nice to have someone
dropping by and able to critique my work. If anything perhaps the realtor can be
included in the creative process and my sculptures will become even better than what
they might have been.

But now it was finally time to begin my masterpiece. I did not buy the lighthouse just
because of its seclusion and privacy; I had bought it for a rather interesting feature which
was a bit different from many other lighthouses in the area.
For you see, if you were to walk inside, you were not immediately walking towards a
spiral staircase leading up to an absolutely beautiful view of the ocean. There is a fair-
sized room before the lighthouse itself, and in this room is where I will be creating my
work. However, that is not what appeals to me about this particularly structure; it is the
tiny latch in this room which leads to a rather extraordinary basement.

This basement is deep underground and leads to the base of the cliff upon which the
lighthouse itself rests. I managed to place torches down the dark hallways and it has
made it much more relaxing to walk through.

Once you follow the basement’s paths all the way to the end, you arrive upon the ocean,
and a very small dock consisting of a two rowboats meant for two people or so. After the
disturbing journey through the basement hallways, the almost secretive dock consists of a
lovely view of the ocean which makes the walk worthwhile. Not to mention, along the
way, there are several rooms which have aided me in many ways.

I am very excited right now. I have made my way through the latch door to begin the
first step of my sculpture, and I am willing to work as long as it takes to accomplish what
Pygmalion had done so many, many years ago.

As I walked slowly throughout the hallway, grabbing a torch along the way, I made my
way about halfway between the latch of the lighthouse, and the dock at the bottom of the
pathway. An abandoned storage room was located here, and inside it sat an adorable
little girl, who went by the name of Remi.

She had been so kind to agree to help me create my sculpture when I ran into her at a
park. Little eight-year-old Remi hopped into my car and we drove off to the lighthouse.
She was so excited that she didn’t even tell her parents where she was going – she just
left with me! It is so great to see such enthusiasm in young people.

Now, little Remi was probably a little nervous. I had given her a sedative when we got in
the car, because I did not want her to see where she would be working or the material we
would be using. I felt it would be best to keep her in the dark in terms of how the
sculpture was to be created, so that her inspiration and ideas which would aid me would

not be forgotten. If she had been exposed to any sort of information prior to this then she
may have been able to create great ideas in her head on ways to begin the project – but at
the same time, because she was so little, she may forget the ideas just as soon as she
comes up with them.

It is understandable to be a little afraid, because as I approached her she seemed to want
to run away, however I had brought along another sedative in a needle, which I would
administer to her neck which would put her to sleep for just enough time to prepare for
the sculpture. I think as I came closer she began to relax, even though she was
speechless. She could not really run away even if she was that afraid, because the
sedative from before had numbed her legs, essentially temporarily paralyzing them.

But almost as soon as I had entered, and as soon as she had been put to sleep for the
second time, it was time to leave for the lighthouse. I carried her in my arms back up
through the basement hallway, opening the hatch eventually and placing her gently upon
the floor of the room.

I Rent The Ocean

I feel so sleepy. I can’t move my body at all but I can still see. This room is so strange.
I can see lots of shiny stuff on tables but I don’t know what it is.

I see a man walking around and – oh my gosh! It’s him! I remember now! He’s the
doctor that gave me that shot! That hurt so much and I didn’t even get any candy from it!
That is so weird because doctors give candy when they give people shots but this man
didn’t give me any. What if he isn’t a doctor at all? I’m so confused! What if he’s

I bet he’s lying! He’s a liar! He’s not a doctor he’s a stranger! Why did he take me
here? What is this room? I wonder what he’s doing.

He’s coming over here. I want to run away and go back to my mommy! I don’t want to
be here I want to go home!

He is really close to me right now and it’s scaring me. He’s about to pick me up from the
floor or something. I can’t even move! What am I supposed to do?!

Now he’s carrying me somewhere. There is some weird thing in the distance that is
really shiny and I think I’m going over there. It looks like a chair with a lot of seatbelts
or something and I think he’s going to sit me down.

Wait this is so weird…he’s standing me up but I can’t feel my legs so I think if he lets go
I’ll fall down. I am so nervous and confused. I don’t even know if this is bad. This is
just really strange

He’s put me into the chair thing but I’m standing up and I can’t move. It’s like I’m stuck
or I’m tied in tight to this or something. He’s walking away now. I hope he doesn’t
leave me because I think when I finally feel my legs and arms that I’ll be really

I don’t think he’s leaving and now he’s just walking over to one of those tables and
grabbing one of the shiny things I saw before. It looks like something pointy but I don’t
even know what it is. I’ve never seen that type of thing before.

Oh my gosh he’s coming over to me with that thing! What’s he going to do with that? Is
he going to do something to me with that?! I’m so scared!! I want to go home I want to
go home I want to go home!!! It’s getting really close to my face! What is he doing?!
That shiny thing is so pointy that would hurt so much if he touched my face with that!
He’s getting closer and closer and I really hope that he doesn’t do anything to me. It’s
getting so close now that I can feel it on my face! It’s so cold! He is just setting it there!

Eww! He just left it there and now he’s touching my hair! He keeps going through my
hair I don’t want him to touch my hair his hands are all icky and that hammer thingy
looks like it would hurt! Oh my gosh please don’t hurt me I don’t want to have that scary
hammer thing hit me!


Remi is a failure. She does not have the creative look that my statue so requires and will
be disposed of almost immediately. The fact that Remi is now to be rid of angers me,
however, I happen to have many children in the basement awaiting. Children can be so
useless, though.

I am very irate at the present moment. I cannot stand for anymore of this nonsense and I
have just realized that I may never be able to create the statue the likes of which
Pygmalion would with the materials at my disposal. The suffering and agony that goes
into each attempt has driven me a bit, out there, but I do believe I have a solution.

Rather than attempting to make the perfect Pygmalion-level statue, perhaps it would be
best to create smaller statues – Dolls. Doll of all shapes and colors, but very small dolls
that a child could easily lift up. I could allow the children in the basement to play with
them as well as a test to see if they truly are proper dolls.

I was getting tired of all the precision however, and of all tools which had to be ever so
carefully applied to each child’s forehead and each child’s arms. I needed much scrap
material and coating, so perhaps it was time to…unwind a bit. The least that I could do
for my mental well-being would be to give myself a break and release some stress.


This is the Central Valley Police Department. If you have any information regarding the
investigation in the recent abduction of Remi Pry, please leave a message after the tone.
If you are comfortable to, please also leave your Name, Number and Address. Thank

‖Hello this is Mrs. Pry, Remi’s mother. I am just calling to see if know anything else
than what you have told me already, and I –―

―Hello Mrs. Pry? This is Detective Roberts, I received your calls earlier, and again, we
do not have any information at the present time.‖

―I’m…I’m…I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do here. I can’t just wait this out anymore, I
don’t feel that my daughter is safe and every passing moment that I’m not with her is
just…just…I don’t know can you just please tell me something new?‖

―Well, we did recently receive an anonymous tip-off almost three minutes before your
call, but it was very vague and did not actually leave us with a specific location or
address. At the current time were are working on tracing the call’s location and possibly
hoping to question the caller.‖

―Oh…thank you detective, but…what did the tip say?‖

―Well, a man with a rather deep voice picked up the phone and said only a single phrase:
I Rent The Ocean.‖

―…that is all he said? Are you sure it was a man?‖

―Yes we are almost positive.‖

―Well…thanks for keeping me up-to-date…‖

―Sure thing Mrs. Pry.‖



―Please find my daughter.‖


Three Weeks Earlier

―Mister! What are you going to do to me?! I want to go home! I want my mommy!‖


―Let me go! I want to go home! Let me GO! Don’t touch me!‖ The little girl screamed
as loud as her lungs would allow her to, but The Dollmaker struck her and there was no
longer any noise of any sort.


There was a dead coldness in the air of the lighthouse. Tools of all shapes and sizes
awaited to be applied to yet another helpless little child in his workshop. For his next
doll that was to be made, he would need real human hair, fingernails and teeth. This little
girl would be the perfect source for such items.

The Dollmaker systematically went to his work. Reaching for pocket knife on a wooden
table, he began to near the child.


―Ugh. Why must you be such a pain?‖ Now a bit more calm, ―Do you not realize you
are for a greater good? You will make some child very happy someday.‖

The girl remained silent along with The Dollmaker. He contemplated a moment before
decided it would be best to gag his source material as then it would no longer be
distracting whilst he worked.

And then there was silence.

―Aww. Do not cry little one! Here! You can hold one of my dolls for a moment! I’ll
place him on your lap!‖

The little girl screamed a muffled scream, as The Dollmaker began to near to her with the
small pocket knife. Lifting up her soft and gentle hand, he began to dig beneath her
pinky finger to remove the nail.

The child screamed.

―Shush shush shush,‖ putting a finger to her mouth to silence her ―It will make the dolls
look very pretty!‖

One by one the fingernails were plucked off the fragile and now shaking hand of the little
child. While the pocket knife may have not been the easiest way to perform such a task,
all great masterpieces even of the smallest size required hard work and effort. Soon
enough there were ten pieces of the child’s face lying next to one another awaiting to be
applied to plastic hands.

―HUSH Child! We are not done yet! I still need your beautiful, beautiful hair...such
precious, precious very, very soft....allow me to stroke it...‖

The child moaned every so slightly. All hope had escaped from her eyes as the man
began to dive his sweat-stained face into the waves and waves of soft string attached so
perfectly to the head of the innocent girl. After five or so minutes of adoring the source
material, the razor was eventually applied and all hair shaven off.

―It is so beautiful to hold a hair as youthful as yours in my hands.‖ The Dollmaker laid
the pieces of the child’s face beside one another upon a table, and walked away to grab a
black leather bag containing dental tools.

―I’m so sorry, but I do not have any sedatives that I am willing to spare on a subject.
This will be over very soon.‖

The Dollmaker regretted the fact that this little one had such a very underdeveloped front
row of teeth, and shortly after the operation, for this reason, punished the girl most

As the head of the child dangled from just a thin piece of skin, it was then when The
Dollmaker noticed the blood dripping in a thin line down her spine, leading to the
backpack upon her shoulders.

Upon thorough examination, the name, address and telephone number of what appeared
to be a childhood friend of hers was found in a diary.

Remi Pry
431 Red Pine Road

Befriend A Child Killer

Present Time

―Detective, we’ve gotten word of another child abduction.‖

―Find any leads at the scene?‖

―None sir. The fingerprints we found were made by the child, and the only connection to
her was the little girl’s parents.‖

―So you are telling me we still know nothing?‖

―Basically, Sir.‖

―There is something that this guy left behind. These guys don’t just magically vanish,
they always leave something behind. Whatever it is – find it!‖

―No sir, there isn’t anything.‖

―That doesn’t work. Tell me something or I’ll reassign you to a desk.‖

 ―Well…what we do know is that a similar case happened just last year. There were 33
child abductions reported and no culprit found. It was suspected that all the children
were murdered, but there was never any solid evidence of anything at all. Whoever this
guy is, he knows what he’s doing.‖

―Great, so now you are admiring him. That’s just wonderful. That still isn’t getting these
little kids back home. If you guys were paying attention some guy did leave a tip on this
from our anonymous phone line. Please don’t say that after all this, a random man has
been more help than all of you have been.‖

―Well Sir, the clue was very vague. I Rent The Ocean. We had a team go searching at
local residents besides the bay out east of here, but there were only three houses and all
were families. There is nothing going on over there.‖

―Check out of town! This psycho may be abducting children here and taking them to
wherever he lives! I know you are new to this thing but start using your head!‖

―We considered this, but – ―

―I don’t want to hear any ―but‖s, just find me this guy and find him fast.‖

―…Yes sir.‖

At the home of Mrs. Pry, Mr. Pry was no where to be found. He had been gone on a
business trip for days and the only way that Mrs. Pry could contact him was through
messages. However, none of her unanswered calls had been returned. Despite trying to
warn her husband, for whatever reason, Mrs. Pry and the Central Valley Police were the
only ones who knew that Remi was missing. There had not even been a missing persons
report put out upon the news.

Mrs. Pry spent all day pacing back and fourth, trying to figure out what the cryptic clue,
―I Rent The Ocean‖, could have possibly meant. There has been absolutely nothing that
came to her head to act upon, with the exception of one idea that seemed a bit far-fetched.

There was a secluded beach which was a tourist attraction in the later parts of the year
due to its peacefulness and serenity. However this idea had only recently come to her,
and calling the police and telling them about an area that may not have anything to do
with her missing daughter, seemed a bit crazy at the time.

If she was wrong, and the police were sent up to an area to look for a structure of some
sort properly suited for abducting children, and it ended up that Mrs. Pry was completely
wrong, then that would be wasted time and the police would most likely never take her
seriously again.

The fact that she was not telling the police anything and everything she knew seemed
wrong. However, this was not a fact which she knew. This was a stab-in-the-dark guess
at a general area in which a building might be located containing the abductor and her
beautiful child.

After around a solid hour of debating whether or not to risk the police taking time to
investigate what very may well be a cold lead, she decided that any information is better
than no information – even if it was likely to be false. Mrs. Pry called the police with the
knowledge of a beach 100 miles away that may be what the clue referenced.

The police completely turned down the suggestion saying that they were on their own
lead and that ―everything would be fine‖ and that ―your daughter will be safe with you
soon enough‖.

It was then when Mrs. Pry determined that she herself would travel to investigate and
attempt to find her daughter. I Rent The Ocean, she thought to herself. I Rent The


―Detective, we have a lead!‖

‖Well don’t talk to me about it! Talk to your team!‖

―Alright alright…but Detective, just one question…‖

―What is it? Hurry up. I have places to be.‖

―…Would you befriend a child killer, if it meant that you could save a child?‖


―Would you befriend a child killer: Yes or no?‖

―…What is wrong with you? Just do what you have to do!‖

―Well, would you?‖

―Ugh…alright…well, I wouldn’t go near a child murderer if I could help it, but if that’s
what it would take then…Yes, I would. Why are you asking me this?‖

―That’s what we may end up having to do.‖

Pressure Torture

Case #1401 aka “Dollmaker”
Status: Abandoned
Section IV: Closing Summary

In 1995 a series of child abductions were reported in Lora County. All crime scenes
appeared to have no evidence upon first glance, and all witnesses gave little to no
information. At approximately June 12th 1995 an anonymous tip was left for the Central
Valley Police Department by what sounded to be a man above 30 years old. The tip
consisted of a single phrase, “I Rent The Ocean”, and after investigation and analysis,
no resulting information was found. Upon searching several houses without a warrant
around the end of 1995, nothing was found and the investigation dropped.

In Lora County, there were 14 child abductions in 1995 by what was believed to be the
same unknown suspect. On January 28th 1996, a package was delivered to the Central
Valley Police Department addressed to the current Detective of the case at the time.
Inside the package consisted a row of 14 small dolls with incredibly realistic features.
Upon further inspection and DNA testing, it was determined that several pieces of the
dolls had contained articles of clothing, hair, nails and teeth from 10 of the 14 missing

The parents were not notified of the findings. While the evidence would clearly suggest
that there may have been some traces of the unknown suspect/child abductor, this was
proven false. There was also no actual evidence that any of the children had been

The case was temporarily re-opened for evaluation, as all further investigation attempts
had continued to be unsuccessful. After three months of thorough examination by several
scientists and detectives, Case #1401 was once again abandoned.

                                    -End of Summary-


The Central Valley Police Department had found a lead. There had been definitive
conclusions drawn that the clue ―I Rent The Ocean‖ had referred to a lighthouse around
100 miles away from the Police Station. The team however, actually had no real
evidence besides an anonymous tip-off via phone. The assistant Detective had made the
decision that rather than going through a process to a obtain a warrant for a house in
which there was absolutely no evidence was the suspected child abductor’s residence, it
would be of higher priority to reach the lighthouse as soon as possible. The most recent

abduction had been only two days ago, and there was still hope that the child may still
remain unharmed.

The plan of action was to send a team up to the lighthouse area and to take a risk in the
possibility of the lighthouse as the abduction scene. It would be an undercover operation.
The investigative team and small police force brought along as well would remain around
half a mile away from the lighthouse. Two men would be sent in under the cover of
being lost and asking for directions. This was assuming that there was someone who was
living in the lighthouse or working there in the day, and this was also assuming that they
would open the door without have the two men resort to physical force.

Hopefully they would find the missing children and in particular, Remi.


Mrs. Pry did not know where she was. She had awoken in a dark room, that smelled of
rats, and according to her watch around three hours had passed since she had left her car
to make her way to the lighthouse.

Her body seemed to be paralyzed from the hips downwards, and everything in the room
was pitch black. The light from her digital watch was so small that it added no light the
absolute darkness which consumed where she sat. She awoke without realizing that she
could not move her jaw as well, and began to realize that she had been gagged.

Mrs. Pry screamed as loud as she could, but the sound which came out was muffled and
distorted. It seemed that just ten minute ago she had been walking peacefully along the
beach admiring its beauty, almost forgetting about her daughter in the process. She
remembered the water hitting her feet and the cool brisk air rushing past her smooth face,
watching the sea gulls in the distance gather upon the top of the lighthouse as a sea
breeze shook the waves beneath her toes. All this beauty had almost made her
completely forget about her missing daughter, almost. But now, she remained alone in
the dark, footsteps approaching her in the distance.


I have a guest. She did not knock or even say hello. She did not bring any gifts or
offerings of any sort. This deeply enraged me and her initial disruption upon entering the
passageway which led into the lighthouse severely disturbed my work. Some source
material had to be wasted, as I had cut too low due to the sudden noise she created.

So I had to put a stop to her nonsense. I cannot have strangers entering and exiting
whenever they so please. I will not tolerate it! All trespassers should be punished and
sent to federal prison, however, being that there do not seem to be any prisons in the
surrounding area, I had to send her to one myself.

I injected her with a similar sedative to the one I gave her daughter, Remi. Yes, it had
turned out that this trespasser was actually the mother of little Remi. What a poor
example she was setting! A child cannot have a mother who does not follow simple rules
of etiquette. It simply will not do. I had to place her into a makeshift prison cell in the
dark passageway for her to learn her lesson. I left my two watchdogs outside the
makeshift cell to make sure she would not consider escaping.

In the meantime, I have to deal with the manner at hand. Remi had been a complete
failure. While I had scraped her for materials for my dolls, I still had spared her life in
the case that she may grow back hair over the months, along with the idea that her teeth
may have been primary and not permanent teeth.

Yes I am a very careful and smart man. I make sure to plan ahead and conserve my
resources. All subjects are placed into the upstairs room and locked away. They are fed
and treated with as much respect as those who misbehave and those who do not
appreciate the arts should be treated.

Sometimes the subjects fought with one another for measly scraps of food, yet another
example of misbehavior and disobedience! Can you imagine? Getting into a fight over
simple food! What more, some even suffered fatal accidents in these brawls between the

However, I am not a cruel man by any standards. I realize that the subjects might
develop an understanding for what they did wrong, so I left tools to create artistic works
to allow them to express their creativity. However there was no clay of any sort in the
top room, so I had carved in the wood on the wall:


So sometimes, naturally, the subjects would realize that they in turn obviously have the
desire to create artistic works such as myself. A chisel and a knife, along with some rope
and a wooden board long enough for a person to lie down upon, were left in the room for
the subjects to use. They realized that sometimes the lives of their fellow subjects is
never as important as that of the principle of art.

Whenever they finished carving and chiseling out one of their fellow subjects, while
sometimes remains were left to be eaten for food as a reward, I would take the newly
carved work of art and hang it outside along a wall for them all to view. These three
months alone there had been 12 carvings placed upon the wall for the subjects to admire!
How wonderful!

I do believe it was the Chinese who developed the technique of Pressure Torture, but I
may be mistaken. I was never one to keep up with such traditions. However my
methodology was sometimes referred as such by the subjects. Being taken to the top
room would always get a welcome greeting by one of the lively subjects such as:


I suppose the pressure to create art was in itself a torture to the subjects. When not
creating it was simply painful to bear that burden, and I suppose that the term ―Pressure
Torture‖ may have been applied to the concept. I do not believe that this is anywhere
close to what the Chinese may have performed, but if anything I look upon Pressure
Torture as a perfect motivational tool which fuels the artistic energy that hopefully soon
hangs on the wall outside the top room.

And now Remi was going to the exact same room.

Macerate And Petrify

I hear barking. There are dogs right beside me. I can feel them. I can hear their panting.
Every pant and every breath feels as if it is going to devour me whole, and rip me to
shreds. I think I’m dreaming. This has to be a nightmare. If I open my eyes I’m afraid I
will see a dog panting and drooling over the possibility of myself as its meal. If I close
my eyes, the dog may attack me while I am blinded, not that it matters due to the
darkness. I cannot walk. I cannot see even when I open my eyes. I can hardly breath.
This isn’t real.

None of this is real.

This can’t be happening. This is a dream. I am going to wake up and my daughter will
be sleeping the next room over. I will walk up to her and stroke her hair, and sing a
lullaby to calm any bad dreams she may be having. I am going to wake up, walk
downstairs, grab my morning cup of coffee and relax for the rest of –

…There’s someone coming. I hear footsteps again. I heard them before but they seem to
be closer. With every echoing step they continue to get louder. Louder and louder. I
wish I was with my precious Remi right now. I wish I could hold her and tell her
everything would be okay. I wish my husband could tell me over the phone that I am
fine and that this isn’t happening to me. That I am just tired and stressed.

The steps are getting even louder now. The dogs are beginning to bark. Terrible,
roaring, deafening barks that seem to shake the ground which I lay. With every sound
from their drooling teeth I feel as if they are standing right behind me, waiting to kill me.

And then they stop. There is no longer any noise of any sort…except the footsteps which
seem to be five feet in front of me.

I am going to close my eyes now.

I am going to close my eyes and stop staring forever into blackness hoping to see

I am going to close them, and when I wake up, I will be in my home. I will be happy and
content drinking warm coffee, knowing my daughter is sleeping upstairs. I am going –


I began to make my way into the dark passageway to check on the rude intruder. I had
found a much, much more powerful sedative than the prior one I had used on her
daughter. I remember buying it off a chemist I met in Kabul, Afghanistan years back. I
could not exactly remember what was in it, or what amount was to be given to receivers
of the injection, so I just filled the syringe up as far as it would with the substance.

Mrs. Pry was caged in by rocks, actually, though one would imagine the darkness would
make it so that it would not really matter what was blocking your escape from a prison in
which you truly deserved to be in. I pictured her overjoyed with a chance at redemption
for her actions which she committed. However I did need to move her to a much more
secluded area, deep in a pit-hole which was located not far from the lighthouse. This
would provide adequate time to reflect on her actions, and would be a better person for it.

I must say, I really enjoy what I do. When I am not creating artistic masterpieces, I am
always bettering mankind. I believe everyone deserves a second chance for the mistakes
they have made. Upon reaching the stone-walled cell I injected Mrs. Pry with the entire
syringe of the sedative from Kabul.


―…where…where am I?‖

―You’re in pressure torture.‖

―…what? Who are you?! Are you going to hurt me?! Where am I?!‖

―Calm down, you aren’t getting out of here.‖

―What’s going on? What do you mean?‖

―My name is Alfred, and I was sent up here five weeks ago by the Dollmaker.‖

―…Who? Who is the Dollmaker?‖

―Surely you remember. The man who shaved off all your hair and plucked out some of
your teeth and nails.‖


―Calm down. Calm down. You’re name is Remi right?‖

―How…how did you know?‖

―It’s on the back of your shirt. The Dollmaker sews in all of the names of the children he

―Wait, uh…Alfred? Um, how old are you?‖

―Why does that matter?‖

―You seem like a really big kid! How did he take you?! Couldn’t you have fought him

―…You don’t…You don’t fight the Dollmaker off. When he wants you, he gets you. It’s
how it works.‖

―What are you talking about? I’m so scared! I want to go home!‖

―Just be thankful there isn’t anyone else in here. And whatever you do, don’t turn

―Why not? I can do what I want! I’m tired and you aren’t my mommy or my daddy! I
can do what I want!‖

―Fine then, go ahead. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.‖

Fifteen minutes later

―You awake?‖

―…wha…wha happened?‖

―You fainted.‖

―…those…those things…those things on the wall…what are they?‖

―Don’t worry about them. They aren’t alive anymore.‖


―I’m sixteen by the way.‖

―Sixteen? That’s so old.‖

―There you go. Just don’t think about things so much. You can get through this just fine
if you just try not to think about what’s going on.‖

―Mister I want to know! If you have a secret I want to know!‖

―…Don’t you get it? Look around you! Do you think the red stains on these floors were
from paint? Do you think those tools are worn from carving stone? Do you think what
you saw on the wall wasn’t real?‖

―…what…what do you mean?‖

―Remi. You aren’t safe anymore. This is the Dollmaker’s world. None of us are safe.‖

―Wait what do you mean? Are there more kids here?! Do you think any of my friends
are here right now?!‖

―I hope not.‖

―But my friend Ashley stopped coming to my school awhile ago and disappeared! She
said she was running away from home! Is she here?‖

―Like I said, there are only two people in the Top Room, you and I.‖

―…oh…well…I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s going on.‖

―Just try to get some rest and there will be some food delivered up here soon enough.‖

―Hey uh, mister, um…‖


―Where is your hair?‖

―My hair? Oh, well, it’s growing back really slowly since the Dollmaker cut it all off.
I’m sure yours will grow back soon enough.‖

―…wait…wha…you mean…‖


―Oh my gosh! My hair! It’s gone! Where is it?!‖

―Um, the Dollmaker, he’s crazy. He shaved it off…aw…aww don’t cry Remi. It’ll be
okay. It’s going to be fine, forget what I said before.. There’s no one else here in this
room that’s going to hurt you, and you’ll be home soon enough.‖

―I…I…I just want…I just want my mommy. I miss her so much! I’m never going to see
her again…am I…‖

―Just get some rest.‖

One Week Earlier

Yes, yes, it appears the subject appears to be no longer moving. Judging by her
belongings, I would take a guess to say its name is Ashley. This however is a blessing in
disguise. Before it stopped moving, I am sure that this subject had learned its lesson and
would have been a better person had her body been able to withstand the creative process.

However there was no time for talk now. Now it was time to once again attempt to create
what I had originally set out to do! A statue as great as Pygmalion’s was! With the
subject’s material, yes, I could create dolls. Doll, doll, doll, doll, doll and even another
doll after that! Yes, it did lend me quite a lot of material to use.

But that was another story. The doll-making would cease for the moment. Subject
―Ashley‖ would be dedicated to an even greater cause: stone for what would be the
greatest statue of the modern day!

Now the process in turning a subject into stone material is never an easy process.
However once one can successful macerate the body, it becomes incredibly easy to

In the room besides the main artistic center in which all the sculpting and creating is
done, is another room where all the material from the subjects is turned into stone. The
stone is shaped in the shape of a rather large block in which one can successfully carve
anything they desire out of. I determined that upon adding in some rather obscure
materials, a subject is a perfect source for stone.

―Ashley‖ was dragged into the Maceration Room to be melted down. As I began to lift
her up, I noticed that something was obscure about ―Ashley‖. It was not long before I
realized there was absolutely no longer a head sitting on top of ―Ashley’s‖ neck! It was
hanging to the side like a ragdoll’s would by a thin piece of skin! Silly me. I had
completely forgotten about that little slip-up. That could be taken care of in just a quick
few seconds.

One thing that did make the time go faster, was singing whilst I worked. It is a very
efficient way to remain both entertained and still work in an incredibly focused manner.
So, I began to chant a song that just simply popped in my head.

I get an adrenaline rush…
I get an adrenaline rush...
With synonyms of all sorts

Synonyms of all sorts of words
Rushing into my mind
And it happens every night
That I see your face
Your smiling smiling face…



I will…

I will…

Hmm…it is so strange…I just am seeming to go…a little off from this point. I cannot
remember the remainder of the words. So bizarre, but I manage to continue my own
rendition of it in the meantime.

I will
I will

And I rip her arms!



And I slice her legs!


For some reason I seem to be beginning to go…a little...crazy…and in a moment’s notice
I find myself repeating the same two words over and over again.





Throwing her limbs! Slashing her limbs!



I see a knife on the table. ―Ashley‖ deserves to not be macerated in a peaceful way. I cut
HEAD IS FALLING OFF. The week old dried blood does not leave a stain as her head
rolls to the ground! Her eyes are white as snow! Her neck is stained with dried out blood
and I like it! I love it. Maceration machine awakens and wants the subject!





Into stone she comes! She pours out in a nice smooth paste! I dip my fingers into the
clay! Licking my fingers – she tastes so good!

Macerate! To melt down and separate and oh she does so nicely! Now to petrify her
liquid body!

Into stone she goes! Into a rock hard stone to carve out…

To carve out…

I, I…I completely forgot. That’s right…Pygmalion. A statue like Pygmalion’s statue.
I…I completely lost track. Well…well that is bizarre. I cannot…I cannot even
remember what just happened.

There appears to be a stone block lying in front of this machine, I guess that is what I will
need to use to carve the masterpiece that is soon to be.

All is well.

All The Children Are Dead

Present Time

―He’s coming.‖

―Who? Who’s coming?‖

―The Dollmaker. Wake up. If he sees you sleeping he’ll assume you dead.‖

―Oh my gosh! What’s going to happen?!‖

―Just stand up and don’t talk. At all.‖

―Okay mister I’ll zip my mouth and throw away the key!‖

―Okay, and try not to think about anything except something happy.‖

―I’ll think about my mommy.‖

―Okay that’s good.‖

―I’m so scared.‖

―It’s okay. Remember don’t ever turn around. It’s very scary behind you.‖

―I won’t I won’t!‖

―Stay still he’s right here. Don’t cry Remi! Its fine just stay calm.‖



―I don’t want to die.‖


I have been resting every night. I have been so incredibly tired lately, and I am having
memory loss on a daily basis for whatever reason. I cannot remember what I do

throughout the day, and every few days, I always end up with another stone block in the
Maceration Room perfect for carving.

All I know is that every time I try to make a statue in the likeness of the quality of
Pygmalion’s work, I fail. As much as I believe the subjects are willing to help me prior
to the modeling process, I always find that their attitudes change when the carving
commences. I just want to make a statue of a beautiful, innocent child, but no children
ever seem to want to help me in the creative process.

The children always seem to fail me, but the strangest thing is that afterwards, I can never
find them. It is as if someone else has come into my house and intruded upon my
personal life and belongings!

I do not know what to think anymore! Certainly an intellectual like myself would not
have any problems with something as simple as remembering what was done throughout
the day! It is almost as if I black out from time to time, only awaking to discover myself
in front of yet another stone block.

It is the same everyday! I cannot stand for this any longer. I wake up, attempt to create
my art and try to have a child help me in the process. I simply ask them to stand there
without moving or fussing about, but they always do! And this absolutely infuriates me.
However, I can never remember what happens afterwards. I just find myself in the same
spot, day after day. In front of a stone block, which smells of such an awful smell.

At the same time I am thankful for these occurrences, for it always gives me a canvas to
perform upon. Perhaps it is a gift from Pygmalion himself.

And wait, what…what is this? I hear a noise…a distant noise. Is there someone in my
house? Is it a trespasser? I do not recall having company today! What if someone broke
into my house whilst I was sleeping!

I make my way up the stairs as fast as I can, as I believe the noises were coming from the
top room. And as I run…I start to feel…a little…dizzy. So……

―Remi! Stand still! What did I tell you! Don’t look behind you!‖

―I can’t…I can’t help it! I want to know what is…‖

―Remi this isn’t the –―


―Remi keep it down he’s going to hear you!‖



―…what are you subjects doing up here…what is all this ruckus? I thought I told you to
be quiet and leave me to my work! But you never listen. Just like you never listened

―Don’t say anything Remi, try not to cry.‖

―WHAT WAS THAT BOY? Do you have something you would like to tell me?‖

―…um…no…no sir I do not.‖

―Well have you created any new statues to be hung onto the wall?! I see none!‖

―But sir, All The Children Are Dead. They all hang upon the walls.‖


―But sir, we have nothing.‖

―You have the subject ―Remi‖! Create with the subject! If one is to ever become the
next Pygmalion then one must create!‖

―…No! No! I will not kill Remi!‖


―Remi be quite I’m not –―



―You idiot boy! It was your fault she escaped! I should have never kept you alive! I
should have disposed of you immediately after I scraped you for material! I have seen
my mistakes now!‖

―But, but, Sir you left the door open! Anyone could have – ―


―No! NO! Sir please! Don’t! GET AWAY FROM ME! SIR!‖

―SHUT YOUR MOUTH! Do not even think about running!‖


―Pathetic waste of material.”

―…don’t…don’t…hurt me… not this way…not this way…I never…‖


I heard Alfred scream. I think that man hurt him! I don’t want to think about it!!! I am
running as fast as I can down these stairs. They to go on forever! I am getting so cold
and so tired. My mouth hurts so much. Everything hurts so much. I think I was so
scared in that place…that place where Alfred was…that I never felt this hurt. But I feel it

I can see that terrible scary room! The room that I thought was a bad dream! Oh my
gosh! I hear something behind me!


OH MY GOSH! Where’s my mom. I want my mommy. I want my mommy! I’m tired
of this! I want to go home. I don’t want any more of this hurt! I’m so tired…

I can’t run anymore. I can’t open the door. I’m so sleepy…so tired…

I hear him coming…

I hear him…


―My name is Remi! Lemme go! Lemme GO!‖

―Remi. Reemmii…your name is so…familiar…‖

―What do you mean?! Let me GO! HELP!!! SOMEONE!!!‖

―…Remi…Calm down little Remi. Just stand still. I need you stand very still whilst I
create. I need you to stand still.‖

―Mister! Mister please! Leave me alone!‖

―I am not going to harm you, Remi, I just need you to sit still!‖

―…wha…wha…what? Please lemme go lemme go lemme go LET ME GO!‖

―Here, calm down little Remi. Hold one of my dolls! You can play with one of my dolls
while I sculpt!‖


―There, there. See? Is that not the prettiest doll you have ever held? The most beautiful
doll you have ever layed eyes upon? It is so gorgeous…so amazingly stunning in its
glorious beauty…I cannot even remember how my mere hands ever created such a
wondrous craft…‖


―…That’s what? That’s what little Remi? That’s beautiful?‖


―What my little Remi! What is it? Is it everything you could have ever hoped for in a
doll and more?‖


―What? What do you mean little one? This is just the doll’s hair. It is fine. Nothing to


―…Remi. Remi. I need you to calm down now.‖

TO ME?!”

“...Remi. It is just…a doll. I need you to calm down now. I need you to stand still. I
need you to behave little you should. I –―




―You…you see Remi…this is not standing still. This is not what you were supposed to

GOD!!! NO!‖

―And now…now little girl… you little subject you…‖

―S…stop…st-st-stop…please…p-p-please stop…‖

―And now little Remi…‖

―NO! Please…nooo…‖

―You will never…‖

―Please go away…please don’t hurt me again…‖


―Mom…mommy…where are you…‖

―Misbehave, again.‖

―Mommy...I love you…‖


―so…so much…‖

―Iwillmacerate Iwillpetrify Iwillmacerate Iwillpetrify”

―Hold me one more time…‖




Now. Now is the end. Every single day I awake. Every single day I forget. And every
single day I create. I try again and again to create artistic wonders, but no one ever can
understand me. No one understands how simple and easy it can be just to create such a
beautiful statue…all they have to do is just…understand me…

Every child always never listens to me, and then I always wake up the next day in front
of a stone block. Obviously I fail every day. There is no point left in trying to create
when I only create failures. I am a disgrace to Pygmalion. I do not believe I can ever
create anything except…


The only thing I can make are…are…are dolls. Am I that much of a failure that the most
successful piece of art is a child’s plaything?! I do not even remember creating them
either! Can I even create a simple doll?

But all I see are dolls. Dolls everywhere. There are dolls on the walls, dolls on the floor,
dolls in my bed, in the passageway, in every room of my house. All I see is doll doll doll
doll doll doll doll doll doll doll doll doll every where I look. I am consumed in
something I have no recollection of creating. It is a reminder to my pathetic excuse of a
life. My supposed talent.

HAVE NO MEMORY OF CREATING ANY OF THEM! I cannot create a child’s
plaything! Let alone a statue! Is Pygmalion punishing me?! Am I not meant to sculpt?
Am I not really an artist?! If my life has been nothing but creation…and I cannot truly
create…my life is meaningless.

What is my life if I cannot create…

And…and these dolls! They just keep showing up everywhere!! I think there are getting
more and more dolls everytime I blink my eyes and open them again…I am going
crazy…am I really an intellectual…? I mean, everything…every artistic session I have
ever had…every moment of every day for my entire life has been built around this
statue…this statue which…

…which I never create…at all…the dolls seem to be…they seem to be…ugh…UGH

Dolls everywhere…they want me…they want me…doll…doll…doll…doll doll doll doll
doll doll doll doll doll DOLL DOLL DOLL DOLL DOLL DOLL DOLL DOLL – I

The dolls…they speak to me…am I to…what if…

…What if I’m the statue? What if I am the modern Pygmalion sculpture…

It would all make sense…

It would all make so much sense…

Ugh…these voices in my head…they keep…keep repeating….keep repeating the same
words…over and over and over again…



…I will…

No…please…make them…stop…



The voices…make them stop…


30 Minutes Later


Who…who are you? What do you want with me?!

Look around. I am all around you. I am everything you have created.

What…what do you speak of?! Show yourself!!!

But you can see me right now…because…well…

Because…because why? How can I see you?! I am alone!

I am the one who made the dolls. I am the one who killed the children, and why all the
children are dead. I am the one who’s name is feared by all. I am…


I am you, the Dollmaker.

…What? What do you mean?! I am not a dollmaker! I do not remember any of these! I
did not make them! What do you mean children?! Where are the children?! THEY

Then what are the dolls doing all around our residence?

I…I do not know! I do not remember any creation or anything anymore…all I see are
blocks of stones and dolldolldolldolldoll!

You know who you are. You know what you have done. I am here to…set you free…

…what…what do you want…

You are not an artist. You are a dollmaker. And Pygmalion’s statue was never, ever
created in this place.


Listen to me…listen…calm down and listen…you are a dollmaker. Not an artist, but a
maker of dolls…and you almost have a complete collection made…you have almost made
an amazing one hundred dolls…you should be proud of your true talent…

…one…ONE HUNDRED? One hundred dolls!

I look around…and he is right. There is no longer any denying it. I cannot lie to
myself…these dolls…they come from…they must come from my hands…they come
from me…I am the dollmaker…

Yes…yes…that’s it, but you see…there are not quite one hundred dolls at the present
time…you are just one short of a perfect collection…a perfect collection…

What…what do you mean?

Suddenly I realize the truth. Pygmalion’s statue really is completely meaningless to me
now. Now…now I see that my true talent…has been around me all along…

Mr. Dollmaker…do you not understand? The final doll…the one hundredth doll…

…yes? YES?!

…is you.


In the silence of the room there is vague mutterings of spirits…possessed…poisonous
thoughts rambling between their mouths. Spirits talking not in the shape of a man…the
dolls just do not leave me alone.

They are all so lifelike…so beautiful. I love them so much now that I really start to
consider that they really are miniature works of art themselves. Pygmalion most likely
did not exist in the first place. I have realized now more than ever, that something so
beautiful could not have been created upon this Earth. It just is not possible.

I know now that the only friends I have are these dolls. It is only fair that I should join
such masterpieces. Each and every doll a true testament to man’s contribution to
creativity and innovation on this planet, all with only a single flaw. As I have heard from
the voices, there are only 99 dolls. It is time to end my Pygmalion dreams. Now is the
time to join the spirits…join the voices…join the dolls…

The Maceration Room…I will cast myself in stone. I will throw myself in…melt myself

Just continuing those wonderful words…those powerful words…and I…and I leap into
the machine! The pain…so satisfying…so incredible…such pleasure…

I want to melt…I want all my imperfections to become one clear paste…a perfect
stone…the perfect final doll…not another attempt at a pathetic Pygmalion statue…

I cannot feel my legs…my hands…my arms…they are long gone now…long gone…

Beginning to plunge my head into the heat, I have no regrets. This is the perfect way to
die, for I am never truly dying…I am to be recreated as the final most important piece
into the most inspiring collection of dolls ever crafted…the voices will do this for
me…the voices will guide me....

My eyes see nothing but red. Everything on me is burning and then melting until I can
no longer feel anything at all…and it all feels so good…and look…there are the dolls…

The dolls all are gazing down upon me! How beautiful! Their beautiful eyes…their pure
white teeth…grinning down upon my final creation…and all is final. Dolls all around
me. I am becoming the dolls. Becoming a doll myself. Joining the dolls. Dolls
watching and peering into my melting eyes…

… Doll Doll Doll Doll Doll D–

Four hours later

Hours passed since the police team originally left from the station. The rain that poured
upon their car as they exited to make their way toward the lighthouse seemed to get
worse with every footstep they took. A team of two policeman were sent up to check on
the suspected crime scene under the cover of a broken down car. The remaining team
stayed behind in a squad car, just waiting for the signal to storm the place.

Detective Waters and Detective Frank were the two men sent to go undercover. Both
were of rather tall and at the same time, husky, and for the most part entirely new to the
job of policework in general. This was their first real case which they had been able to
follow up on directly. With the prospect of rescuing children, they knocked on the door
with little hesitation.

After four rather long and loud bangs upon the door, there was no answer. The two
Detectives tried again, and it did not take long for them to realize no one was home.

It also did not take long to realize, as well, the door was completely unlocked. Very

Upon entering the lighthouse, the first thing that went to the detective’s heads was the
awful, putrid smell of the place. The smell seemed to enter your nose and you would
never adjust to the foulness which consumed the room.

The room itself, was a cylindrical room, and a trapdoor of some sort was in the direct
middle. Upon opening this, it seemed to just lead to a massive pit directly in the middle
of the room. Detective Waters decided to go through the ―pit‖ and into what seemed to
be a very cold underground passageway, being ever so careful, while Detective Frank
called in backup.

Detective Frank looked around the cylindrical room, and began to notice several things.
Among those things, were tools of all sorts, lying upon tables, shining incredibly brightly.
Directly opposite those tools on the other side of the room, was a vertical wooden board,
with straps that looked as if they were meant to hold a body. The first thing that came to
Frank’s head was that this room was some sort of old-fashioned torture room of some

There were bloodstains around the board, and as he went closer they only became more
distinct. The final thing he noticed about the room, besides its smell and grotesque
atmosphere, were strange figures upon each and every shelf that he saw. Upon closer
examination, he realized that they were in fact…dolls…

Something about those dolls really scared Frank to no end. They all seemed to be staring
down upon them, whispering dark and murderous things, as he peered into their porcelain
eyes. He walked closer to hold one, to examine it. The dolls seemed so entrancing, so
lifelike. The desire to touch and hold them lingered in his mind, but at the same time it
felt as if that doing so was forbidden.

Detective Frank lost all track of the investigation, and did nothing but stare at what
seemed to be…at least fifty dolls…maybe one hundred…just sitting there glancing down
upon him. And then that was all it took – Detective Frank took a doll and ran up the
stairs in the back of the cylindrical room. He took the doll and vanished into the upper
levels of the lighthouse, just at the backup squad arrived into the scene.

At this point, there was no one in the room. Detective Waters was somewhere in the
long, dark passageway of absolute and complete blackness. Detective Frank had run up
the stairs fascinated and hypnotized by one of the many dolls he found. In the cylindrical
room, no child was found.


The lead Detective made his way into the main room, looking around with his team for
clues of any sort. Waters and Frank seemed to have disappeared from sight. The room
seemed to reek and echo with a mysterious dread of some sort, and every moment spent
was more disconcerting as the last.

He decided that he would make his way up the ladder, and into the top of the lighthouse,
and see what would be found in any room or areas in the upper portion. As he made his
way up, he could hear footsteps and moving, like a mole scattering about above him. The
further he went upwards, the colder it got. It was not long before he reached what
seemed to be the top, but was in fact a door to another room. And Upper Room…

Opening the door was not easy, it seemed to be stuck. He pushed and slammed, trying to
get the rusty old door to swing open, and he could hear movements and voices on the
other side as well. It only made him try more, until it finally, with a sudden budge in the
latches, flew open. The Lead Detective was in the Upper Room.


Detective Waters saw nothing but darkness. The passage was full with it. The terrible
smell from before had faded away, but was replaced by what seemed to be the smell of a
wet dog. He took out a flashlight and saw that the smell he was smelling was definitely
what he had pictured.

For as he was walking, the moment he turned on his flashlight and shined it upon the left
side of the passage, he saw one, massive pile of deceased dogs. Rotting away, flies
amongst their body, eyes rolled back into their skull, it felt like a warning of some sort.
These were no small canines either, these were fully grown adult German Shepards, the
kind that the squad used to front drug busts.

Each dog stacked lifelessly upon the dog beneath it, looking like fur coats. The smell
was unbearable. There did not appear to be a wound on any of them, they all seemed as
if they had died…hungry…

The pile of dead dogs deeply terrified Detective Waters. This was not what he had been
expecting – this was something else. He did not even continue past to see what else was
down the hallway. He completely turned around and never went back, opening the
trapdoor back in to The Cylindrical Room, trying not to think of the rotting animal


I can move now, but upon awaking I have determined I am trapped behind a wall of
rocks. I removed what was gagging my mouth…it is wet with my spit…and what
appears to be blood as well…I wonder if I was hurt…did I actually cough up blood?

Regardless I am trapped. My new world consists of two thoughts: Remi and this dark,
rocky prison I still have no idea where I am, or who did this to me. I’ve been here for
hours and hours just rotting away…and now that I can move I am more scared than I
have ever been.

The dogs seem to be gone, there are no barks coming outside the rocks that conceal me,
but now that all numbness has left me, obviously a drug of some sort, I feel more in
control. I have to admit it feels as if whatever was given to me is still effecting me
somehow, as I am becoming rather dizzy even in pitch blackness. However, the
―control‖ that I have makes me more fearful than I have been in, well, my entire life.

Moving around I can truly see that I am trapped, and now that I can move, I am left
wishing that I was still sedated on the floor. It is so scary in this horrible, horrible
place…I miss my little Remi…I miss my husband…I m–

There are footsteps in the distance! I can hear them! They are ever so quiet, but I can
hear them! I even see a light!!! I do not know where those dogs have gone, maybe
someone took them away somewhere, maybe they died, but it makes me very relieved.
Now that they are gone, I can call for help without anyone drowning out my weak voice.

―Help!!! Help Me!!! Can anyone hear me?! Anyone!!!‖

But no one came. I kept screaming and screaming. No one. And now I could no longer
hear the footsteps…for all I know I might be screaming to the wrong person.

I screamed until my voice died, for around ten minutes straight. No one came. It is as if
the footsteps just disappeared and were never there…that they were a figment of my
imagination…maybe they never were…

…No one is coming…I’m all alone…someone get me out of here…someone please…

―…I’m going to die here….‖


In The Upper Room, the main detective had entered and found Detective Frank caressing
what appeared to be…a…doll…

―Frank what are you---―

But that was all the Head Detective said. On the walls, there were…children…that
appeared to be…crucified…upon the walls…

There were bodies…you could not even tell they were children…bodies with scars and
entire portions carved away…entire heads missing…limbs dangling by thing pieces of

At least twelve bodies were hung on the wall, by nails…each hung up in a perverted form
of a crucifixion. He could not tell if there were twelve…for some were only partially
there…appearing to be picked apart as if by crows…and there were several random legs
and arms just nailed to the wall.

And all the ―children‖ seemed to be facing what appeared to be a cell of some soft.
There was a cell in the other half of the room, and upon opening the door, sparked with
dried bits of blood, he discovered a room of such unbearable smell that immediately the
lead Detective vomited upon the floor.

It was only then when he realized why it had smelled so bad. He glanced about the room
after recovering himself only to see dried blood and bits of bones upon every inch of the
floor and wall. And on the back wall in capitalized letters was the phrase:


The most disturbing part of the whole room was after seeing those words, the detective
looked around and saw tools and instruments which one would use to carve out stone
lying about, looking worn and used. Upon closer examination, he saw that all the tools
though out the room, were stained with dry blood as well. This was a torture cell of some
sort…and the victims hung on the wall….reminding whoever was to be locked in that
awful place of their fate soon-to-come.

He began to back out and grab Detective Frank, who was still gazing perplexedly at the
doll. Just as he was turning around to exit the cell and walk out of the Upper Room, he
saw a young boy, appearing in his late teens, propped up against the wall…

His face seemed so sad. There was a stab wound in his stomach, but his face looked as if
he had been crying, or still was. The Head Detective had finally realized what he was
dealing with – A Child Killer.

―Come on Frank, pull yourself together.‖

But Detective Frank did anything but that. He just continued to stare into the doll’s eyes,
forgetting the terrible horror that surrounded and consumed The Upper Room.

―Frank, give me tha—―

And as the Head Detective took the doll away from Frank, he noticed something a
bit…strange…about the doll. It took him a few moments at first, but then almost
immediately he realized that this doll was a bit too lifelike.

The nails, the teeth, the hair – they were all human. These dolls were made with human
parts! And he had seen at least 50 or 60 of these dolls just making his way through the
lighthouse and up the stairs! How had he gotten all that hair? All those teeth?! And all
those nails…they belonged to someone…

―What the hell is this?!‖ The Head Detective could not even believe what he was seeing
– this was no ordinary psychopath.

By now Frank had snapped out of his trance which these mysterious dolls seemed to
bestow upon his mind, and it was Frank who noticed that the little teenage, sad-looking
boy propped against the door of the cell, had no fingernails.

And it did not stop there.

All the children along the walls…all the disembodied arms and legs…there were no
toenails or fingernails on any of them. It was hard to tell at first, because all the dead
children on the wall were so disfigured it was difficult enough to tell that they once were
people at all – but beyond the scarring and blood you could see the details.

Most of all the children had their front teeth missing. It was no wonder they all looked so
horrifying. Every child without hair, looking as if they were recovering from a disease,
with little teeth and no fingernails…beaten and scarred…this was a nightmare. There
was no way even a psychopath would do something like this…no…this was something
else…there was no way this was real…

These were children.


The remainder of the team searched the rest of the lighthouse. At every footstep they
only found more dried blood, more dolls and more tools, everywhere they went. It was
one continuous nightmare which never seemed to give up.

But apart from the children on the walls, and the dead teenager in The Upper Room, there
were no bodies found.

The police had entered a room with a very odd machine of some sort, and at the front of it
were two stone blocks. One of the stone blocks in front of the machine had no clues of
its contents apart from a lonely chisel sitting on its top. The other at first glance had
nothing at all apart from the stone itself.

Upon closer inspection of the second block however, they saw what appeared to be
glasses sitting on the machine…little, tiny, pink glasses…just sitting there waiting to be
place upon someone’s head.

And next to those glasses, was a doll. A doll with pink fingernails…and…dark black
hair…and small underdeveloped teeth…

The features on this doll were strikingly similar to Remi’s description, the Head
Detective thought to himself.


The police called in another team, and all members began to confiscate and collect any
and all evidence. Every last doll was collected – 99 in total. The bodies on the wall were
torn down, the tools were gathered, fingerprints were taken of the entire house -- the
entire lighthouse had been stripped of everything that could have possibly led to any
evidence. During all the events, someone actually recorded what was being seen onto a
tape recorder as well.

The police however, had forgotten to check in one particular place which all the
investigators thought had already been examined. Detective Waters had for more or less
led the team to believe that there really was nothing down in the dark passageway and
that that was all it was – a dark passageway.

It was not until the entire investigation cleared from the scene, and when they arrived
back at the station, when a very short message was played on the Head Detective’s
answering machine:

This is an alert to inform the Central Valley Police Department of a missing persons
report. At approximately 7:31PM on February 9th 2008, Mrs. Victoria Pry, the daughter
of Remi Pry, was reported as missing. Victoria Pry was last seen on February 7th 2008
leaving her workplace on 14 Price Street.

And it was not until this message had played, when Detective Waters finally admitted
that he had not fully searched the passageway in fear of what he might find. It was quite
a job for a first time Detective, but it was also due to his incompetence that Mrs. Pry
would be found dead behind a wall of rocks only several hours later. She had been
injected with a dangerous amount of a foreign sedative.

However, as the team exited the rock-made cell where Mrs. Pry was found dead, they
began to hear screams…screams sounding as if they were coming from a little child…a
little girl…


At approximately 2:32AM on February 11th 2008, Remi Pry was found in the
underground passageway which ran beneath the lighthouse. Remi was discovered alive,
but severely starved, bruised, scarred and dehydrated. She was missing four front row
teeth, but none which were permanent, all her nails had been removed, and her hair from
her head shaven off. Her left leg was broken, and she had suffered several injuries on the
left side of her face.

Upon discovery, she was found carrying a chisel, and a small, tiny doll of some sort. The
doll was rather peculiar for its nature, and upon further examination, it was determined
that it was in fact, the same sort of doll found in the inside of the lighthouse.

However this was not a doll made from child hair, nails and teeth. The teeth were
developed, the hair contained bits of gray, and the nails seemed to be rugged upon the
ends, filled with dirt as well. No, this definitely had not come from a child. Almost
immediately upon the discovery of Remi, she began speaking. She was found walking
along what looked to be a trail made from dead, starved dogs being dragged to a pile in
the beginning of the passageway.


One Month Later
Central Valley Police Department
Questioning/Interrogation Room

―Nice to see you Remi, you feeling any better today?‖

―I’m feeling perfect, thank you.‖

―How is the therapy going?‖

―The doctor is very nice. She doesn’t give me any shots like that mean man did.‖

―Yes she is a very good psychologist, I think you should be better very soon. But

―…uh huh…‖

―I need you to talk about what happened…what happened with the lighthouse
incident…you were found with a doll…and the abductor was very found…‖

―The ab-duk-tor?‖

―The mean man.‖

―…oh…the dollmaker…he was so mean.‖

―Listen, Remi, can you tell us what happened? If you are comfortable, I mean.‖



―I don’t know what happened. I was playing in the playground with my mommy, and
then I woke up and this scary man came and started hurting me. I don’t know what was
going on.‖

―I see I see…Can you describe what his face was like? Did he ever mention his name?‖

―He…he told me not to say anything to anyone else...‖

―Wait, he spoke to you? It says here that you escaped.‖

―Well I almost ran away out that scary place, out the door. But the handle was too high –
I couldn’t reach it. It was so scary.‖

―It’s alright now Remi. You are being very brave. You are being a very brave little girl.‖

―He told me to do something….I didn’t want to do it…but he said he would hurt me
again if I didn’t do it…‖

―…Remi. What did he want you to do? Did he hurt you again? Remi –―

―It was very scary. I thought he was going to kill me! I tripped and fell, and went to
sleep I think. And then I woke up, and he was standing in front of me! He was just
staring at me!‖

―Remi, I need you to think. What did he ask you to do?‖

―He…he told me…well he handed me a doll…but it didn’t have any teeth…or hair…or
nails…he told me…he told me that he was going to disappear, and I would have to make
the final doll.‖

―…the final doll? What do you mean Remi?‖

―Well he showed me how to make a doll, it was really easy. All you have to do is just
put the stuff in the right spot after someone sets it up for you…‖

―Remi, I need you to focus…where did he disappear to? Where did he go?‖

―I dunno. He went away to another room. He told me the things I would need to make
the doll would be on the table…and he set it up for me so I just had to put them on…he
had me practice once on…on…‖

―…on what Remi?‖


―On whose?‖

―This boy who helped me…he was so nice…but the dollmaker told me if I didn’t put
Alfred’s parts on the doll the right way he would hurt me again! I didn’t have a choice!‖

―It’s okay Remi, it’s all over now.‖

―Well I did it all okay…I just put the parts on…he had it so that all I had to do was place
them on the right parts of the doll…and then he said…he said…‖

―What did he say Remi?‖

―He said that what I needed would be on the table, and that I needed to count back from
500…that was so hard…but I just learned how to count big numbers in school so I did
that okay…then after I was done, I had to go in, get the parts on the table, and put them
on that doll I had.‖

―Wait…so…he left you, went into The Maceration Room…and then left ―parts‖…on the

―I dunno what that means but he went into a room, I heard a lot of noise…some
screaming…he kept saying these two words over and over again…I forget what they
were…but it was all part of a deal he made with me…he decided for some reason not to
hurt me…I think I was asleep for a long time.‖

―Why didn’t you just leave?‖

―I…I dunno. I don’t know why I didn’t leave. He said it was very important I put the
parts on the doll…and I just…I just did…‖

―So you do not know where this, ―Dollmaker‖ went?‖

―No I dunno.‖

―That is all Remi. You can go now.‖


Case #1401 aka “Dollmaker”
Status: Closed

Section V: Field Recordings

Enclosed is a tape recording documenting the findings at the lighthouse in which nearly
all abducted children were found dead or in pieces of porcelain dolls found throughout
the residence. This tape is never to be released to the public, and documents highly
disturbing findings. The tape was recorded from the perspective of a Detective who
entered the lighthouse immediately after two Detectives made their way into the
residence. It documents the following locations: The Main Room (Also known as the
Torture Room), The Upper Room and the full length of The Underground Passageway.
The Maceration Room was not recorded. The Detective was accompanied by one other
Detective at certain points of the recording.


[beginning of recording]

 ―It’s...It’s a cylindrical room....with a the middle....and...and I’m
listening....I can hear sounds....movements....and things....things of possession...

...I hear footsteps...

...I can hear footsteps....coming up a ladder....

...It’s Detective Waters! He’s....he’s very stunned...very scared....he is looking at me...

Waters? Waters? What do you want? Stop staring and say –

―Do you believe in monsters, do you demons?”

Wha....wha....what?! What do you mean?!

I don’t think any human is evil enough to have done this.

[tape stops, then continues]

There are....there are voices....I hear voices....maybe it’s just my head....this whole place
scares the hell out of me

I just went to the upstairs and I saw CHILDREN HANGING on a WALL!

This....this isn’t even could someone do this....

How could someone even...

They were missing fingers....they looked like they had been rotting for weeks....oh dear
GOD what HAPPENED here?!

I can’t....I can’t even....

[tape stops, then continues]

Whoever is listening to this tape. I have seen something far worse than any Hell anyone
could dream of....I have seen thirty or more children....contorted....rotting....dead....

Their nails and teeth...their hair....all upon dolls...

Blood everywhere

Dry blood on the walls many dolls....


[end of recording]

End of Report


The final doll went through DNA testing. It had turned out that the pieces on the 100th
discovered doll had been a man, in his middle age, who was not on Police Record. It is
assumed that he killed himself in some unknown way in the room, as fingerprints were
found on the machine in the Maceration room. It was suspected he threw himself into the
machine, and shaved off his hair, removed his fingernails and somehow removed three
teeth from his jaw, placing them all upon the table for Remi Pry to make into a doll.

While nothing was truly determined as fact, it was assumed the Child Killer was dead.
The case was marked closed, and made national headlines despite trying to remain as
secretive as possible. All The Children, except Remi Pry, Are Dead at this point, and all
parents were notified of the unfortunate news.


After six months of physical, mental and psychological therapy, Remi Pry was fully
recovered, and went to live with her dad in a state on the other side of the country from
where the events had occurred. She soon returned to an almost completely normal
childhood, partially thanks to her new best friend, Candace.

The End.


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