Weirdville: The Doll Maker (Lower Grade Spooky Fun Adventure)

by Majanka Verstraete

  “I know why there’s something wrong with each of those,” Derek said, nodding toward the stuffed animals. “It’s all a decoy. He didn’t open this shop to sell toys. He opened it to sell the dolls.”

  Mr. Weird appeared from the back room, startling Derek. The man had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was paler than before. Rather than Dr. Frankenstein, he now looked like Dracula. The flesh of his face was pulled tight around his skull, as if all the blood had drained from his body.

  “How can I help you?” the doll maker asked, his tone neutral like a robot’s, as if he’d forgotten all about what happened yesterday.

  “Um.” Derek looked at Jamie for help.

  Jamie’s eyes went wide and he pointed at the bag.

  “Oh, right,” Derek said. “My sister bought a doll here and... well, something happened to it.”

  “Show me.” The doll maker snapped at him, his voice dropping a few tones. He dragged out the ‘s’ like a snake’s hiss.

  Derek zipped his bag open and pulled the doll out.

  Mr. Weird froze at seeing the doll’s malformed face. He put his hands on the counter to steady himself. “What did you do to Tim?” His eyes blazed like two firestorms.

  “It was an accident,” Derek lied. “Can you fix it?”

  “Fix it?” Mr. Weird threw his hands in the air. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done, boy? I have no idea if I’ll be able to fix this. You wait here.” He lifted the doll up, patting it on its head and whispered to it, then vanished into the back room without so much as another glance at the boys.

  “Let’s follow him,” Jamie whispered.

  Derek nodded.

  They tiptoed toward the back room entrance. Derek pushed the door open, and cringed when it squeaked, but Mr. Weird didn’t seem to notice. Looking through the small gap, Derek could make out most of the back room. It resembled the inside of a voodoo shop he’d seen in a movie once, with creepy animals lined up on both sides of the room. Symbols were written on the walls, dripping with red paint. In the middle of the room stood a table and an old-fashioned book stand, like priests used for their lectures.

  Behind the table stood Mr. Weird. He’d put the doll on the table, as if it were some kind of patient and he was the doctor. An ancient leather-bound book rested on the bookstand. The room was fairly dark, the only light coming from candles.

  Mr. Weird chanted something in a strange, foreign language.

  Derek had no idea what the words meant, but the song made his toes curl.

  “What’s happening?” Jamie whispered. Since he was standing behind Derek, he couldn’t see anything of the strange room.

  “He’s doing a spell. And there’s a spell book.”

  “That’s probably his source of power. We have to destroy it.”

  Mr. Weird lifted up his arms and made complicated, twisted movements, performing some exotic dance. Then, all at once, the candles went out. Deep, solid darkness filled the room.

  Derek took a step back and motioned for Jamie to go back into the shop. They hurried back to the other side of the counter. Derek acted like he was interested in one of the stuffed animals, while Jamie looked at the dolls.

  The door opened with a screeching sound, and Mr. Weird appeared. The first time Derek saw him, he’d guessed the shopkeeper was about forty. Now he looked closer to seventy, his face wrinkled, his shoulders slumped, and he appeared to have shrunk about four inches. Perhaps the magic was taking a toll on him.

  “Here is Tim.” Mr. Weird handed the doll to Derek with great care, like he was handing over a newborn baby.

  Derek accepted the doll.

  Tim’s face was completely healed, with no signs that he’d ever been hit with a baseball bat in the head.

  “Make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Mr. Weird said. It sounded like a threat.

  Derek winced.

  “I’d like one of those dolls,” Jamie said, pointing toward the glass closet.

  The shopkeeper frowned. “Which one?”

  “I’m not sure. Do you have any other ones?”

  The doll maker hesitated. “Um....” He looked from Jamie to Derek, confused, and finally said, “I may have one, but I’m still working on him.”

  “What’s his name?” Jamie asked, feigning innocence. “You said all of them have names. I want one with a name I like.”

  “The one I’m working on has a strange name. You wouldn’t want that one.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not for you. Why don’t you choose this one instead?” He stepped from behind the counter and grabbed one of the dolls off the shelves. He narrowed his eyes and gazed straight into Jamie’s eyes. “This one would be perfect for you.”

  Jamie didn’t respond. The muscles on his back tensed, and he stood up straight. Then he shook his head. “I want the one you’re working on right now.”

  “He’s not for you.” The doll maker swept a hand across his forehead, and sweat dripped down both sides of his face. His skin looked grey and withered. He held on to the closet.

  “What’s the doll’s name?” Derek asked. “Ignatius perhaps?” He dropped Tim on the floor.

  “How do you know that?” the doll maker growled, his face distorted from pain and anger. “How?”

  “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. Ever since you moved to town, kids started disappearing. One of your dolls is called Nick, short for Nicholas, one of the missing kids. And the doll you gave to my sister is Tim, which is short for Timothy. Kids named Nicholas and Timothy recently went missing.”

  “What we don’t know, however,” Jamie interrupted, “is why. Why kidnap those kids? Why turn them into dolls?”

  “Why?” The doll maker let out a loud, cackling laugh that echoed through the room. Seconds later, the echo of a dozen different laughs followed, some high, some low.

  Derek’s mouth dropped open as he turned a full circle. The laughs came from all the dolls on the shelves and in the glass closet.

  “I take their energy,” Mr. Weird explained, “so I can live. I turn them into living dolls and have them infest homes, so they can harvest kids’ souls for me, and I can turn those kids into dolls as well.” He clapped his hands. “Congratulations for finding out. But I’ve been doing this for a couple of centuries. I’m not about to stop now, especially not thanks to two snot-nosed kids.”

  He let go of the closet and approached them, but they had followed Jamie’s plan to the letter. Jamie had suggested he start asking about the doll, and that the boys stand at opposite sides of the room, so it would be impossible for Mr. Weird to grab them both at the same time. And it turned out he was right, as the doll maker looked indecisive for a moment, glancing from one boy to the other.

  Then he fixed on Jamie and ran at him.

  Fear flashed across Jamie’s face. He backed away, but was trapped between the glass closet and the shopkeeper.

  Mr. Weird let out another maniacal, loud laugh. “You can’t run, boy.”

  Jamie took another few steps back, until his back pressed against the glass closet.

  Derek panicked for a moment. He tried to take in everything that was happening, but too much happened at once. Should he stick to the plan or save Jamie?

  The dolls in the glass closet came to life. They growled like animals and started to crawl from shelf to shelf like large spiders, moving toward Jamie.

  Keep to the plan, it is.

  Derek sprinted to the back room. He threw his entire weight against the door, pushing it wide open, and raced to the book. He was about to grab it when something pulled his leg with great force, stopping him.

  Tim. The doll’s small plastic hands dug into his skin, and even though it was just plastic, it hurt.

  Derek yelped out in pain and kicked his leg, trying to get Tim off him.

  Instead, the doll wrapped both arms around his leg and pulled itself up. It bit into Derek’s knee.

  At the same time, Jamie screamed.

  Derek ignored the pai
n long enough to reach for the book. He needed to save Jamie.

  The book was heavier than he’d expected, and he almost dropped it when picking it up with one hand. It smelled old, its pages a faint yellow color. Derek used it to hit Tim on the head. The doll blacked out for a few seconds, long enough for Derek to tear the doll away from him. Blood dripped down his leg, but he didn’t feel any pain. He needed to get back to Jamie.

  He stumbled back into the shop, clutching the book to his chest. “Hey!” he yelled, trying to get the doll maker’s attention. “I have something of yours.”

  The doll maker spun around, his face a twisted mask, more a ghoul than a person. With his impossibly large eyes and stretched face, he almost resembled a skull. “You... let go of my book!”

  “Let go of my friend,” Derek said.

  Jamie’s battered face sent him a thankful smile. The dolls had bitten him all over. His arms and face were covered in bruises and cuts. He held up his hands to protect himself from the doll maker, which meant he hadn’t had time to keep the dolls away.

  The doll maker waved his hand, and the dolls stopped attacking Jamie. Instead, they crawled to the floor, where they stayed put.

  The doll maker took a step toward Derek, raising his hands in surrender. “I won’t harm your friend if you give me my book back.”

  “I want you to change them all back. All those kids you turned into dolls.”

  “That... that’s not possible. I don’t have the strength for that.”

  “What about our friend Martin? What’s happening to him?”

  “His life force is draining. It’ll keep on draining until he buys that doll. Once the spell is activated, there is no way to reverse it.”

  “Then this is the only way. Derek held up the book so the doll maker could get a good look at it. Then he opened it up and tore a page from it.

  “No!” The doll maker clutched his stomach as if he’d just been kicked. “No! You will destroy them all.”

  Derek hesitated. What if the doll maker was telling the truth and he murdered all those kids by tearing out the pages of the book?

  While he was debating with himself what to do, Tim had lifted himself on the counter and reached for the book. Derek managed to pull it away just in time, but Tim grabbed the edges of the book. Then, to his surprise, the doll began tearing at the pages of the book.

  “No! You’re not supposed to set them free!” The doll maker screamed and fell on his knees, holding his head with both arms.

  Derek ignored him and tore another page out of the book. And another.

  By now, the doll maker had crumpled into a hapless pile on the floor, wailing like a baby. His skin turned grey and wrinkled like an old treasure map.

  Jamie, no longer under attack by the dolls, stumbled toward Derek and leaned against the counter. His face was ashen, and blood seeped from the countless teeth marks he had on his arms and face.

  Derek kept tearing the pages out, faster and faster.

  Tim sat on the counter and started pulling at his plastic face, revealing skin. All this time, the real Tim had been beneath the plastic. But by the time Tim had gotten rid of most of the plastic on his arms, he’d grown an inch. And then another. And another. Until he was about Derek’s size.

  The other dolls went through the same transformation. Relieved cries resonated throughout the room as all kids escaped from their plastic prisons.

  Derek reached the last page. He looked at the doll maker, and actually had to suppress a pang of guilt. The creepy man looked as old as the world itself. A long beard curled around him, making him look like some evil version of Merlin the Wizard.

  “Do it,” Tim said when he noticed Derek’s hesitation.

  Derek almost choked when he looked at him, now a boy about Derek’s age, with short, blonde hair and a friendly but unremarkable face—a stark difference from the plastic doll he’d been minutes before.

  “You have to, or we’ll never be truly free.”

  Derek nodded and offered the book to Tim. Together, they pulled out the final page of the book.

  “No!” The doll maker’s scream echoed through flesh and bone. Then he collapsed, his skin turned to ash and his bones to dust, sprinkled across the floor.

  Chapter 12

  Jamie collapsed against the counter. He rubbed his head and fell to the floor. After taking a moment to recover, he glanced at all the boys and girls filling up the room. They’d just changed back to their regular form, and now the room was suddenly crowded with people.

  “Thanks a lot, guys,” he said. “Was it really necessary to bite?”

  “Sorry,” one girl with blonde curls said. “We had to do as he commanded. He talked to us in our minds. It was creepy.” She wrapped her arms around herself, and another girl stepped forward to give her a hug.

  “Thank you,” Tim said to Derek. “Especially after what I did to you, I’m glad you still decided to help us.”

  “Well, it wasn’t that bad,” Derek lied. “You have sharp teeth, though.”

  Tim let out a short laugh. “I have to tell my Mom about this! I’m not sure she’ll believe me, but I don’t care. I have to tell her.”

  “Good luck with that. My Mom didn’t believe me, and I doubt she’d believe it even now, but I do intend on telling her I’m the one who found all of you. I think she wanted to ground me for ruining Annie’s toy, but you can’t ground a hero now, can you?”

  “I’ll put in a good word for you.” Tim held out his hand for Derek to shake.

  “I think it would be best,” Jamie interrupted, “if we don’t mention what happened here at all. You’ve seen how grown-ups acted when we told them about the living dolls. They’d probably lock us up if we told the truth.”

  “Then how do we explain this?” Derek opened his arms wide, indicating the shop and all the children.

  Jamie shrugged. He put a hand on top of the counter and lifted himself up until he stood up straight. “Let the grown-ups come up with an explanation. I’m done. I want to sleep for a week.”

  Derek snorted. “Evil wizards or not, you always want to sleep for weeks.”

  “You know me too well. But I’m serious. It’s probably best if no one else knows about the doll maker. If they know magic like that exists, everyone can use it.”

  Everyone stayed quiet for a minute.

  Then the girl with the blonde curls said, “You saved us, so it’s up to you to decide what we tell them.”

  Then Jamie came up with another plan.

  Chapter 13

  A week later, Derek, his Mom and his Dad sat at the kitchen table. Things had finally calmed down, and Derek couldn’t be happier.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Mom said, reading through the newspaper article for the tenth time. “Mr. Weird kept all those children hostage in his basement?” She shivered and put her arm around Derek. “I’m so proud of you that you found out and contacted the police.”

  The official story, as Jamie had made up, was that they’d gone to get the doll repaired at the doll shop. When the doll maker had left to repair the doll, they’d heard cries coming from the basement, went to investigate, and found all the missing children there. Not as heroic as the truth, but heroic enough for Derek not to get grounded.

  “Who would’ve known that guy was such a creep?” Dad asked, stabbing at his food. “Instead of being a man and owning up to his deeds, he flees.”

  “Well, I’m glad he’s gone,” Mom said. She folded the newspaper and put it away. “Honey, why don’t you go get your sister so we can have dinner?”

  “All right.” Derek sprinted up the stairs two steps at a time, feeling light and fast. He walked over to Annie’s room and was about to knock on her door, when he heard voices.

  “What’s your name?” Annie asked.

  “Carla,” another voice replied. “Will you be my friend?”

  “Of course. I love making friends.”

  Derek frowned. He had no idea his sister was having a friend ov
er to play. He knocked on the door.

  “Come on in,” Annie said.

  He opened the door and nearly ran straight out of the house. In the middle of the pink room stood a small tea table and three small chairs Annie had gotten for Christmas a few years ago. She was almost too tall for them. At the other end of the table sat a doll, with features that were too real. Its skin looked like it was made of flesh as opposed to plastic.

  Although its eyes were vacant, they seemed to follow him when he moved. Worse yet, the doll gave off the same vibe Tim had given – like it was alive.

  “Where did you get that?” he snapped, pointing at the doll.

  “Isn’t she beautiful? It was a present from Aunt Bernie. She said a new doll shop opened up in her town and when she saw this doll, she had to think of me right away.”

  “When did you get this? A new doll shop? What the heck are you taking about?”

  “It’s only been open for about a week. The doll came in the mail yesterday.”

  Derek grew light-headed, his heart skipped a few beats, and his breath stayed stuck in his throat. A doll shop that opened about a week ago. Dolls that look real. Dolls that talk.

  “He’s back,” Derek mumbled, more to himself than to his sister. “He’s back.” He folded his arms across his chest and began walking up and down.

  “Who’s back? What are you talking about?” Annie jumped up.

  “I have to lie down.”

  “Derek, wait,” Annie said, tugging at his sleeve. “There was something for you in the package as well.”

  “For me?” By now Derek’s knees trembled so badly that if she pushed him, he’d probably fall over.

  Annie walked over to her white wooden desk and opened up the drawer. “Here.” She handed him an envelope with his name written on it.

  Derek’s hands shook like leaves in the wind when he opened up the envelope. He knew Aunt Bernie’s handwriting, and the swirling, elegant handwriting on the envelope wasn’t hers.