Everything has some sort of soul.When that soul becomes emotional toward something ,whether it a cause ,object ,person,etc it can become dangerous.This case in particular is about a doll.A broken doll.

published on December 14, 20129 reads 8 readers 0 completed


The old toymaker threw himself into his work.Making doll after doll,by his old wrinkled hands.He made each and every beautiful doll with love.Or so the dolls thought.His dolls felt love so much so that it became an undeniable truth amongst the dolls,that he loved each and every one equal.

The snow blew furiously outside and the dim fire heating the workshop became smaller by the minute,never the less the toy maker was toiling away.Working piratically hard on the doll of a samurai.He was gentle,strong,and brave.Standing up for what is right.He was set on the shelf several other samurai.The toy maker came in the next morning.The new porcelain samurai lie on the floor.The right side of his face was gone,and his right arm was broken off.

"Must've' fallen in the storm.poor thing."he said picking up the shattered doll.He walked slowly over to the old closet in the back of the room.He opened the door,revealing shelfs filled with broken dolls.Th toy maker cleared a space for the little samurai.The toy maker set him down,and closed the door.

"He left,were is going?"the doll wondered 'I'm sure he'll come back soon.He wouldn't just leave me here.He loves me."

The days past,and still the toy maker had not returned for the doll

"Where is he?I wonder if something has happened to him."the doll said worriedly

Days turned into weeks,weeks into months,until the fourth one.The 8th day of the fourth month,when the doll had good thick layer of dust,he changed.

"Liar.liar.liar.lliar."he said with his broken voice."You don't love me.You never did.If you won't fix me..." he said eerily' I'll break you.His sweet solom face twisted.his cold eyes burned with anger.His calm half smile curled into that of a mad man.

The old man grabbed his book,and snuggled under the covers.He had only read a few pages when there was a loud creek coming from downstairs.He waited.But the noise had stopped,and he continued to read. Thump,thump,thump.the old man was frightened now and once again he waited for the noise to resume.And it did.There was another creaking sound,closer this  time.The old man looked to his bedroom .It was open,just enough for a cat to pass through,comfortably.He closed the door and returned to his bed.The little samurai was there.Miniature katana in his hand.

"Now how did you get in here?"he picked up the seemingly innocent doll.It looked up at him with a disturbing frown.Tears rolled down the doll's porcelain cheek and turned to blood


The old man dropped the doll,fearing for his life.his overwhelming fear petrified him,it was  as if he had been welded to the spot in which he stood.

The fragile doll hit the ground and shattered into thousands of pieces.From the remains of the doll rose a thick fog that spread across the room in seconds.A tall figure,with a blade as black as night approached the poor old toy maker silently.Not even the sound of foot steps could be heard.

"Y-You you're the doll!Why Wh-"

CHOP! The old mans head fell to the floor his blood soaked body followed.

"You lied."The samurai answered.He knelled down and scooped up as much blood as could.There was total and complete silence as the warm red liquid trickled down his throat.
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