Lifelike

by Sheila A. Nielson

Even as I watched, Fiona’s large doll’s head shook, then lifted—all its attention turning suddenly on me. She lifted one of her arms, reaching in my direction with grasping porcelain fingers.

  Rosalyn had been living inside the bride doll’s body for so long that she could now control every doll in this house! I had to get out of here. To go someplace where there were no dolls. Gathering every last scrap of ragged energy I had left within my weakening body, I rushed forward and took a flying leap over Fiona. My sluggish reflexes were too slow, and I stumbled as I landed. I went down hard, clutching the groom doll close to my body in order to protect him. My shoulder smashed solidly against a table in the darkness and some fragile thing fell to the floor with a horrific crash.

  “Hey! Who’s there?” Richard’s far off voice echoed through the museum. He sounded like he was a several rooms over, maybe in the dollhouse room.

  No! No! No! I couldn’t bring anyone else into this. Not with an insanely jealous doll on the loose. She would hurt Richard or anyone else that got in her way. Aunt Victoria might come down to see what was going on at any moment! Somewhere behind me, I could hear Fiona dragging herself slowly down the steps in my direction. I had to lead Rosalyn away from here!

  Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed the handle to the front door with my free hand and yanked it open. A gust of cool night air rushed to greet me.

  The bride doll slammed into my lower legs from the side like a sledgehammer! An agony of pain shattered through my ankle. I staggered and fell to my knees. Rosalyn had overshot her mark and her doll was now thrashing about the floor in the shadows, tangled up in her own wedding train.

  I could hear Richard’s heavy footsteps, headed our way at a dead run.

  Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to get back on my feet and hobble out the doors into the darkness beyond.

  Chapter Forty

  My nerves were shredded live wires, sizzling with a million volts of pure adrenaline. Holding the groom doll tight, I lurched along like a broken wind-up toy, making my way around to the back of the museum as fast as I could.

  I’d suffered through a lot in the last three years of my life. The agony in my ankle was nothing, a mere distraction at the edge of my consciousness. I could handle pain—and handle it well. Rosalyn Worthin would not be able to stop me that way.

  I glanced nervously over my shoulder, but there was no sign of the bride doll—at least, not yet. But she was out there hunting for me, of that I was certain.

  I should never have taken Xavier’s doll from the safety of the secret closet. Now I had to find a new hiding place, somewhere Rosalyn would never find him. In the light of the rising moon, the dark silhouette of a building rose up before me, blotting out the star-filled sky.

  The stables!

  I put on a burst of speed grinding my teeth against the shooting pain driving up my ankle into my leg. I could not stop. I had to get inside and out of sight before Rosalyn spotted me. I burst into the stables, glancing hurriedly around. The stalls were all dead ends. I’d be trapped if she discovered me hiding in any of them. Upstairs was the only option. Panting in panic, I clumsily unhooked the partition and fought my way up the steep stairs to the second floor. I struggled up the last few steps by crawling on all fours, Xavier’s doll bouncing clumsily in the crook of my arm.

  Getting to my feet again was the hardest thing I had ever done. Through muddled moonlight and darkness, I limped from room to room in a daze, weaving back and forth like a drunken sailor in a feverish stupor. Only after Xavier’s doll was safe could I rest. After that, I didn’t care what happened to me. Aunt Victoria would need a gurney if she intended to take me to the hospital tomorrow, because I was not going to have the strength to walk out of here on my own two feet.

  A flicker of movement on my right caused me to veer suddenly in panic. My lethargic reflexes sent me stumbling into a pile of broken chairs hidden in the shadows at my feet. Chair legs and wooden dowels went clattering in every direction as I came down with a mighty crash that shook the whole building. Something jagged and sharp sliced me painfully just above the wrist. I lay helplessly amid the rubble, fighting back a wave of sobs threatening to rip right out of my throat. Rosalyn could not have missed that deafening crash. If she wasn’t already on her way here to the stables, she soon would be.

  Badly shaken, I sat up, still clutching the groom doll tight in my arms. I scanned the room with wild eyes, checking every corner of darkness. My rasping breath filled the empty room as I caught sight of what it was that had startled me in the first place. A pale, moonlit face stared back at me from across the room, a mere reflection of my own.

  The Snow White mirror!

  I could hide the groom in the small space between it and the wall. I tried to push myself up but discovered that my legs were as useless as a couple of deflated, worn-out tires. The almost-healed sprain in my wrist had started throbbing again. It was a miracle I was still conscious. I stared uselessly at the girl in the mirror and watched her shivering uncontrollably. A miniature white figure stepped out from behind the girl’s reflection.

  From behind, my reflection.

  That was all the incentive I needed. I’m not sure how I actually got back on my feet, but suddenly I was upright, swaying dangerously as I faced Rosalyn’s doll. The bride circled me at a distance, her attention riveted to the groom in my arms. Moonlight fell through the murky windows, casting the bride’s shadow. It spread out behind her and part way up the wall, so huge it could have belonged to a full-sized person instead of a doll. Rosalyn lowered her chin and took a slow, menacing step in my direction.

  Without warning, wind blasted up from the floor, whipping all around us like a small whirlwind. Rosalyn froze, watching as it flung itself about the room, picking up debris as it went. The wind snapped suddenly in my direction. Dust and leaves buffeted my hair, stinging my face. Instinctively, I held the Xavier doll closer, wrapping my arms protectively around his small wooden body. The whirling air circled me a moment, then died away.

  Silence and stillness followed. Rosalyn’s doll stood with her head cocked to the side as if waiting for something to happen.

  A shudder ran through the body of the groom doll in my arms. I looked down at him in astonishment.

  Slowly and ponderously, he raised his lulling head. One of his hands twitched, then lifted itself until it came to rest on my arm. The fingers gently gripped themselves against my skin in a firm but comforting squeeze. It was no longer just a doll I held, but Xavier Kensington, himself. He turned his sadly serene little face toward me, those green eyes looking calmly up into my own. The doll blinked in a slow, oddly lifelike way—almost as if he was weary. Did it take a lot of energy to enter a doll’s body? Xavier pointed at the floor. He did not speak, but I knew what he wanted. I glanced uneasily at Rosalyn.

  She watched silently from across the room. Her emotionless mask had slipped into a mesmerized expression of childlike wonder. It tore at something deep inside me to see her that way. So unguarded. So angelic. Like the sweet little girl she might once have been—before.

  I cautiously placed the groom doll at my feet. He struggled to gather his balance for a moment, his small arms waving as he attempted to gain control of the doll’s wooden legs. He took a wobbly first step, then another, gaining more control with each stride. I followed after him, keeping a close eye on Rosalyn.

  The sheer ache and delight of his presence seemed to intoxicate her. She swayed hypnotically in place, watching him come closer. In the center of the room he stopped to steady himself a moment. Then, slowly, he raised both his arms, stretching out his hands before him, palms outstretched, fingers splayed. There was no mistaking the silent plea. He was asking her to stop.

  Rosalyn went unnaturally still, her doll body as unmoving as a statue. Xavier pulled his arms in, clasping his hands together in a gentle benediction. I could see his kind, little face reflected in the Snow White mirror in front of us, his expression scrunched up in concern—begging, with everything th
at was in him, for her to end her mad rampage. There was another emotion on his face as well—the tender and merciful touch of forgiveness.

  I thought of the younger Rosalyn, locked in a dark and cramped trunk, pooling in her own blood. Surely that little girl was still inside there somewhere. Why else would she take the time to try and share her memories with me? I knew what it felt like, having pain all bottled up inside you and no one to share it with.

  “Rosalyn,” I whispered urgently. “Let us help you.”

  Her whole body recoiled, as if I had physically struck her with my words. I think it was the “us” that did it. Without meaning to I’d used a word that married Xavier and I together as a couple—and left her on the outside. Her eyes narrowed into slits, her face twisting itself into an impossible mask of sheer animal rage. The bride doll’s mouth fell open in a silent, gaping scream. Rosalyn’s wooden limbs rattled as the doll’s body convulsed uncontrollably beneath the ferocity of her inner fury.

  In a desperate attempt to get her attention, Xavier stepped between us, madly waving his hands and shaking his head. Rosalyn was too focused on me to see him anymore. Her eyes flickered, blazing to life beneath the doll’s narrowed eyelids. Her mouth opened to an impossible size, revealing an inner fire flickering at the back of her throat. Without warning, the doll exploded into flames.

  Xavier’s glass eyes widened in horror, his tiny mouth falling open in a silent cry.

  No one deserved to have their soul lost in limbo forever. Not even Rosalyn. But she was too furious to care anymore. The doll’s fiery eyes were fixed on me, like a savage beast on its prey. The flames rose up above her body, swirling the doll’s hair into the air. The hair slowly darkened and twisted beneath the heat of the flames—too slowly to be natural. Somehow, Rosalyn was holding back the destruction of the doll. She couldn’t stop it completely, but she was delaying it as long as she could.

  Giving me a twisted and cruel smile, the doll put out her flaming arm and touched her small hand to the leg of a rickety chair standing nearby. I watched in horror as the dusty old wood caught and was consumed within seconds. Rosalyn bent down and placed her hands against the floor. It smoked a moment before catching and flaming into life.

  She would burn the whole place to the ground, just like last time.

  Xavier must have realized her plan at the same moment I did. Arms out, the groom doll darted toward Rosalyn, ready to tackle her to the floor—perhaps giving me enough time to escape while she was distracted.

  If Xavier touched her, his anchor would be consumed in flames right along with Rosalyn!

  I lurched forward and clumsily grabbed the groom doll with both hands, lifting him by the waist out of harm’s way. He struggled within my grasp, his tiny hands scrabbling along my skin as he pushed against my hold, determined to get at the fiery bride doll before it was too late.

  The moment I took him in my hands, Rosalyn lost it. She opened her inhuman mouth wider in a scream of fury that roared out like a raging inferno. The flames around her body blazed up to twice their original size. The doll’s waxy surfaces began to melt off of her clay face in large dripping chunks. She was losing all control.

  Rosalyn must have realized her time was running out, because she began to move frantically about, igniting everything she could touch. Black clouds of smoke roiled across the ceiling, filling up the room. Coughing uncontrollably, I crouched down to where the air was slightly clearer. I pushed the squirming Xavier into the crook of my arm and pulled up the collar of my shirt, breathing raggedly through its material. Fire licked up the walls and doorway, consuming the opposite side of the room. In the center of the inferno, the bride doll stood—hunched over as if in pain—her body nothing but a cluster of living flame. The doll’s eye sockets were empty, its glass eyes having melted away, but its mouth was still intact. It twisted upward one last time, stretching into one last satisfied smile.

  There would be no escape for me, and that was all that mattered to her. The burning doll shuddered once, then collapsed in on itself, disintegrating into a whirling cloud of black ash which was quickly blasted away by the roaring of the inferno.

  Rosalyn was gone.

  But her fury toward me still raged all around, growing hotter and deadlier every second.

  Xavier tried to get my attention, by tapping my wrist with his tiny hand. I looked down at the doll and found him pointing at something behind us. A window! Choking and hacking, I crawled on my hands and knees toward it. With smoke clawing and tearing at the back of my throat, I managed to drag myself up by the sill and look outside. It was a long way down from the second floor. Too far.

  The Xavier doll went limp with grief as he shook his head helplessly from side to side. He looked up slowly, his small green eyes meeting mine. Without a sound, he mouthed two words I understood only too clearly.

  I’m sorry.

  He was sorry. He was the one who would now suffer the consequences of Rosalyn’s selfish actions. She destroyed his world without a second thought, tossing him to the flames on a vengeful whim. Rosalyn thought she loved Xavier. But there was no love in such a cruel and cowardly act.

  Love was a boy like Xavier who was willing to trade his soul in exchange for my short life. His soul was more precious to me than my own. Here inside this blazing building, there was no hope for either of us. Out the window there was a chance. A very slender one, but a chance all the same. If I jumped, I would definitely be injured when I hit the ground below. But if I could manage to land right, I’d survive. If there was pain afterward—I could deal with it—just like I always had. As long as there was that one last sliver of hope for life, I had to try for it.

  I drew Xavier closer, pressing him against my chest in an attempt to keep my body between him and the heat. The doll stirred against me a moment, looking up in surprise. He did not yet realize what I meant to do. I reached up and released the catch on the window. The grimy window squealed in protest as I pushed it open with one hand. A cool burst of air swirled inside the room carrying with it the sound of wailing sirens in the distance.

  Richard must have seen the fire. Help was on the way!

  There was a roaring crash behind me as part of the roof gave way. Sparks and fireballs went flying in every direction. The floor shuddered beneath my feet. I could barely see, and my lungs were full of smoke. Even I could see that help would arrive much too late.

  I threw one limp leg over the window frame, gasping the open air for breath. Xavier’s small wooden body went rigid against me as he realized what I meant to do. He dug all ten of his tiny fingers into my arm, but it was too late for him to stop me.

  As I let myself fall from the window, I turned in the air, angling the groom doll away from the ground hurrying to meet us. There was a rush of speed and a vertigo of flames burning against the sky above.

  Slamming into the dirt was like being hit by a ten-ton train. My bones felt like china, all shattering inside me at once. The back of my head struck earth and my vision blinked out like a snuffed candle.

  Then—nothing.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “The damage is extensive,” an unfamiliar female voice echoed distantly in my ears. “Four broken ribs, a broken femur, one lung is collapsed. She has a lot of internal bleeding.”

  That’s a world of hurt, I thought to myself.

  I hoped it wasn’t me they were talking about, but I was pretty sure it was. My body felt all wrong—like a broken marionette whose limbs and joints no longer fit together the way they were supposed to. Then there was the pain, like someone had ripped out my bones and pumped my body full of pure, liquid agony instead. My chest was on fire and my lungs felt like a pair of cheap, latex balloons that refuse to inflate. There seemed to be some kind of tube jammed between my ribs on my left side. That was new.

  Had I been in another car accident? No—not an accident…

  Xavier!

  There was a spike of urgent beeping as an unseen heart monitor recorded my sudden alarm. My li
mp arms lay uselessly at my sides. The groom doll was gone!

  “We are doing everything we can,” the woman continued. “But I have to be honest with you about the gravity of the situation. There is a possibility that she will not make it through the night.”

  “I understand.”

  Aunt Victoria’s words were as careful and soft as her hands had been many years ago as she lifted the lifeless form of my parakeet from the bottom of his cage. Those steady, but gentle, hands had cradled not just a beloved pet, but my young and grieving heart as well. This time, it was Aunt Victoria’s heart that was suffering and there was no one there to help her carry it.

  Quick, professional footsteps retreated from the room. I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids were impossible to pry open. I felt a hand come to rest on my wrist. Warmth of love and human strength flowed into my broken body.

  “Hang in there, Wren,” Aunt Victoria whispered to me. “And know that I love you so very, very much.” She sounded ragged and beaten, weary to the bone—nothing like the rock-solid, granite-willed woman I’d known all my life.

  I’m sorry.

  Those were the words Xavier had tried to make the groom doll speak to me at the very end. How I wished that I could say them to Aunt Victoria now.

  I love you.

  I hoped that Aunt Victoria knew that, even though I’d never actually said the words aloud. I hoped she could feel my gratitude radiating up from my limp body to give her strength for the dark times quickly approaching.

  Thank you! My heart cried out to her in the silence I could not break. Thank you for everything you ever did for me. For being there to the bitter end.

  “Victoria?” I heard Gabrielle’s voice speak softly from the other side of the room. Aunt Victoria’s hand jumped in surprise.

  “Kat called me after she saw everything on the news. How’s Wren?” Gabrielle’s voice sounded brittle, like she was about to start crying.