Spirit Doll
Horror
Stephen Kingston
Contents
Copyright
About the Author
About the Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
BONUS
Still Birth
The Shadow Man
Missing Hearts
Crossover
Copyright © Lovy Books Ltd, 2016
Stephen Kingston has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Lovy Books Ltd
20-22 Wenlock Road
London N1 7GU
About the Author
Stephen Kingston is a British horror writer who currently resides in England with her wife. They live a simple life with their dog in the countryside. His stories are now available for your reading pleasure on Amazon Kindle.
About the Book
Brad Dell can’t believe his luck when he spots the beautiful handmade doll sitting in the small shop amid a crowd of huts on the streets of Thailand. He is wrapping up a successful business trip and preparing to return home the following morning when he decides to do some sightseeing.
Within an hour he is face to face with the most beautiful doll he has ever seen. It looks exactly like his four year old daughter, Chrissy. He decides that he has to have it. Little does he know that he has just purchased a ticket straight to hell.
As soon as Brad arrives home, Chrissy falls madly in love with the doll, never letting it out of her sight. Both Brad and his wife, Lilly, are thrilled that their little girl loves her new toy so much.
But then strange occurrences begin. Weird sounds, loud noises, and the doll appearing in strange places with no explanation of how it got there. Lilly begins to suspect that the doll is terrorizing her, making her hear things and see things. She feels like she is going mad. She believes that the doll is haunted but her husband won’t believe a word of it.
As the events get more disturbing and more terrifying Lilly realizes she is running out of time before her family is lost forever. Whatever is residing inside the doll wants out and it won’t rest until her whole family is dead.
Will Lilly be able to stop it before it’s too late?
Chapter One
Brad Dell sat the doll down on the kitchen table and stood back to admire it. He had never seen anything like it before—the craftsmanship, the lifelike nature of it, and the way that it almost felt like it was a real child. The entire room glowed with a spark of life that had not been there just a second before. What was it about this doll that drew one to it so strongly? It was as if the doll had been endowed with some sort of magical property that placed it above all other dolls. There was no way you could look at this masterpiece and say that it was in any way, shape, or form, just a toy.
It was perfect.
“That is amazing,” his wife Lilly said placing her hand no his shoulder and rubbing it lovingly.
“I knew the second I laid eyes on it that I had to have it,” Brad said.
“Where on Earth did you find it?”
“It was on some little corner stand in a busy area full of markets and huts in downtown Bangkok.”
“I can’t take my eyes off it. It looks so real—that is amazing.”
Brad couldn’t help but smile. He knew that his wife would love it.
He had just arrived back from a two week business trip to Thailand. His company was taking on some large overseas investors and he had been put in charge of facilitating the deal. It was his first big assignment since receiving the promotion a month ago and he was nervous as hell about something going wrong. But the business deal had gone smooth as silk. He’d been happily walking down town enjoying his last day in Thailand, the only chance he had to actually do any sightseeing before leaving.
He found himself in an unfamiliar area by accident and at first wondered if he should even be there. It was easy to get lost in a city like Bangkok.
He found himself wondering about all of the people who lived here, working in the markets and wondered if it was all that different from the farmers markets and produce stands that he encountered in summer in the states. The climate here most likely allowed them to do this all year long. Brad found himself pondering how he would feel working all day in one of those small spaces, year after year. He would go mad.
But the people were all very friendly and very happy. He admired that. In the states most people did not seem that happy or friendly so he figured there had to be something else going on that he wasn’t seeing.
He had been pondering these musings when he had spotted the doll. It was sitting on the table in front of a bunch of other dolls. They all looked similar, but there were singular identifiable characteristics that made each one stand out. At first glance he wasn’t sure they were dolls. It really did look like a row of little girls all lined up. That was why it had caught his eyes. But at second glance he could see the placid eyes and the porcelain skin that was so flesh like that it was frightening.
Brad instantly inquired about the doll, and luckily the merchant spoke English. Brad had brushed up on his Thai, but it was far from perfect, barely passable. He had bought the entire Rosetta Stone series for Thai, but it was a difficult language to grasp. Still he was determined to set aside a half hour each day with it and give it his best shot.
The merchant had told him the doll was something called “luk thep”, which meant “child angels” in English. They were the newest thing sweeping across Thailand in the past few years. People seemed to value them more than children at times the merchant said. Brad found that hard to believe, but he could see that some people who didn’t have children or had lost children might allow themselves to become that attached to them.
The people believed that the dolls would bless them with good fortune and some people would take the dolls with them everywhere they went and expect them to have human rights. It was kind of ridiculous sounding to Brad, but he didn’t say that to the merchant; he didn’t want to seem like he was insulting the culture at all. Besides he had already made up his mind that he had to have one. There was just no getting around it.
The merchant told him that after someone bought a doll it was typically brought to a monk who specializes in blessings. The monk would perform a ritual with the doll and this was supposed to instill the good luck properties into the doll. This practice was also known to give the doll real life. The monks believed that they could invite a real soul to inhabit it and that it would become independent and be just like a real person.
At first Brad thought this was a bunch of hooey, but it sounded fascinating and fun, so he decided to go for it. After purchasing the doll he was quickly shown the way to a monk who performed such ceremonies. The monk was an old man
with sad, sorrowful eyes, but wore a permanent expression of peace and serenity on his face.
Brad watched in awe as the old man laid the doll down and began to chant something overtop of it in a hushed whisper. Brad wanted to ask questions, but he had been told by the merchant’s daughter, who had escorted him down the street and into a small room in the back of a small building, that the ritual must be practiced in silence. Only the monk was allowed to speak. It was a delicate operation and he must not be disturbed.
The silence of the room was so deafening he could practically hear the click of the old man’s tongue as it slid across his teeth during the chant. The old man was sprinkling some sort of dust over the top of the doll, drizzling it all over the face and head. Brad was impressed by the way the dust glittered in the air as it showered over the doll but then it disappeared on impact with it. There was nothing to clean up. He made a mental note to ask the girl what that dust actually was. He wasn’t sure that she would tell him though.
The ritual lasted for about ten minutes. Brad stood mesmerized the entire time watching the old man work. He would rotate the doll and alter its position and then do another prayer or chant before changing the position entirely once again.
Brad could feel the energy in the room changing suddenly. It was getting warm, really warm. He was perspiring like he had just run a marathon and he could feel his business clothes being drenched. He was thankful that he was heading back to the hotel soon anyway. He had to keep licking his lips and swallowing hard to try to deal with the dry mouth suddenly thrust upon him. He wanted to cough badly and clear his throat but the girl had been adamant about there being total silence and he did not want to indicate any measure of disrespect.
The scratch in his throat was unbearable and forbidding himself to clear his throat was making his eyes water, the tears stinging bitingly. He was wishing the ritual would be over soon, or better yet that he had decided not to do it to begin with. It was a very fascinating experience and he was thankful that he’d had a chance to witness it, but at that moment he just wanted some water and some fresh air.
After the ritual was over and he was leaving, finally tasting the sweetness of being out of that room and enjoying the breeze on his face, he asked the girl what happened with the dolls if you didn’t have them blessed like that. She became very stern and told him that the monks believed that the doll was an open vessel and it would attract a myriad of dark entities and spirits to it. It was a bad idea to not bless the doll and they were actually forbidden to sell dolls without this being done. But some merchants did it anyway. They either didn’t care or they just didn’t believe. She had heard too many horror stories of that sort of thing happening.
Brad wasn’t sure what he thought about it exactly, but he was glad for the experience either way. When he finished telling the story to Lilly he could see her eyes were widened with anticipation and maybe a little bit of fear. He had not wanted to scare her, but she had asked him a few basic questions about the doll.
It was the first thing she had noticed when he walked through the door. He had it wrapped in a fine blanket and he was carrying it under his arm. From the moment he picked up the doll he had this overwhelming urge to protect it and to make sure it was safe and warm at all times. He couldn’t understand where this paternal instinct for a doll was coming from. But he could not really force himself to relax and let it go either.
The doll reminded him of Chrissy. That’s what it was. His daughter, Chrissy, was four years old. She had long fiery red hair, just like her mother, and she had the smoothest complexion that he had ever seen on anyone. It showed the angelic nature that she possessed and he knew his sweet little girl was destined to do great things in this world.
The doll looked just like her. Brad could not figure out for the life of him how he had not noticed it until now. It was the most bizarre thing. He wasn’t sure he would have picked that particular doll if he had known it looked just like his little girl. It seemed odd somehow, as if he was trying to replace her. But that was ridiculous; he didn’t know what he would do without his sweet little Chrissy Angel. The moment she had been laid in his arms he knew that he would dedicate his whole life to loving and protecting her and to making sure that her heart never knew pain or sadness a day in her life. He felt he had held up that deal with himself pretty well.
As Chrissy came bouncing into the room he saw the look of joy and happiness that he was back and then he saw the look of pure bliss at the sight of the beautiful doll. He instantly knew that he had been replaced by the new shiny object in the room. He just had to laugh at it.
He picked up Chrissy and held her close to him.
“Hey Daddy! What did you bring me?” Chrissy exclaimed with total glee.
Brad laughed. “What makes you think I brought you something, you little stinker?”
“I see it! It’s a dolly!”
She began wiggling like mad trying to get down to get at the doll.
Brad and Lilly looked at each other and laughed.
“OK, you can see it, but you have to be very careful with it.”
He handed the doll to her gingerly and watched her slowly reach for it. It was like a subliminal communication between the two of them that dictated that this was something very special, but neither one of them really knew why. The air suddenly felt very heavy and thick. Brad felt sweat trickling down from his brow.
Chrissy’s face lit up with joy when she finally had the doll in her arms. She instinctively cradled it like a baby and held it close to her chest. It was sweet to see and Brad was so glad that he had taken the plunge to purchase the doll; he knew that Chrissy would love it and that she would treat it like a real baby. That was what little girls did with dolls, he thought.
Lilly looked at him and mouthed the words “She loves it!” to him. He smiled and nodded back at her.
“What’s her name?” Chrissy asked.
Brad was at a loss. He had never thought to give the doll a name. Was it weird to name dolls or was it weird that he didn’t give it a name and the idea had never occurred to him? He wasn’t really sure.
“Well, I thought we could come up with a good name together,” Brad fibbed. He shot his wife a look of “oops” and a halfhearted shoulder shrug.
Chrissy was deep in thought. “How about Shelly?”
Brad thought that was as good a name as any. “Sure, sweetie. That is fine.”
“What do you think Mommy?” Chrissy asked.
Lilly snapped out of her own thoughts. “Um, yeah. Shelly is a good name, honey.”
“OK, then. I love you Shelly!” Chrissy said squeezing the doll tightly against her body.
“Careful, honey. Shelly is not any ordinary doll. She is very expensive and very delicate. You have to treat her like she is a real baby, or she will break.”
Chrissy eased up on her grip and continued to whisper and talk to Shelly. She was in seventh heaven. Brad had rarely seen his little girl this happy. He wondered if she would be this happy for her first school dance, or when she got her driver’s license, or when she went off to college. She was already four but it felt like she had been born a few days ago. Time was flying and he thought that he would love to find a secret to slow it down or to enjoy every single second to its fullest, but life had a way of getting in the way.
“Me and Shelly are going to go play in my room,” Chrissy said.
“OK, honey. Have fun,” Brad replied.
A wave of total exhaustion suddenly hit him and he knew that he was going to spend the day sleeping until dinner, which was typical of the previous business trips he had been on. It was a grueling trip.
Brad hated flying; he hated traveling in general, but flying especially. He wasn’t afraid of flying at all; he was actually quite bored with it. Therein lay the problem. Being stuck on a big metal tube with wings for ten hours was the kiss of death for him. He figured that he would be bursting with energy, but it was funny how extreme boredom actually drained every ounce of ene
rgy out of his body. He had even slept a good bit on the flight, but sleeping on a plane always ended up making him more tired somehow. The only reason he tried to sleep on a plane in the first place was just to make the time go by faster.
Brad took a long, hot shower, and then he hit the sack. Lilly left him alone primarily and worked on some writing. She had been a full time freelance writer for about two years and she loved it. He enjoyed the fact that he worked hard enough to allow her to pursue her dream. The freelancer’s life was full of uncertainty; one month she would be working almost around the clock, swamped with projects, and then it would dry up so she would spend all day every day for weeks on end looking for work. Lilly had finally been able to leave her stressful job in the corporate world. She had been an accountant, and she quickly realized how much she hated that job. The hustle and bustle of the corporate world, the commuting, the rigid schedules, the routine and repetition of the job—she hated it all. After two years she’d had enough and after too many nights of her telling Brad how unhappy she was, they decided to bite the bullet and let her pursue freelance writing full time.
Brad had always wondered why she had not been an English major instead of an English minor. It was her passion and her love and she had known it since she was a kid, but her parents had always expected her to have a lucrative career in some facet of the business world. Her father was a tax attorney and her mother was an accountant. So she had fallen into the family business, so to speak.
It filled Brad’s heart with joy to know how much she appreciated being able to be her own boss and do something she loved. The money situation had been tight at first, but once she got the ball rolling and started to really get a good list of anchor clients, everything was fine. Especially now, with his promotion and pay increase. They were slowly climbing their way out of newlywed debt. It was a freeing feeling, but it did come with a price.
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