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

  THE DOLL MAKER

  (A Weirdville Book)

  By

  Majanka Verstraete

  Copyright

  www.EvolvedPub.com

  ~~~

  THE DOLL MAKER

  (A Weirdville Book)

  Copyright © 2013 Majanka Verstraete

  Cover Art Copyright © 2013 Noelle Giffin

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  ISBN (EPUB Version): 1622530640

  ISBN-13 (EPUB Version): 978-1-62253-064-9

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  Edited by Lane Diamond

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  eBook License Notes:

  You may not use, reproduce or transmit in any manner, any part of this book without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews, or in accordance with federal Fair Use laws. All rights are reserved.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only; it may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to your eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ~~~

  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.

  Other Books by Majanka Verstraete

  Weirdville

  Drowning in Fear

  Fright Train

  House of Horrors

  The Doll Maker

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  Valentina’s Spooky Adventures

  Valentina and the Haunted Mansion

  Valentina and the Masked Mummy

  Valentina and the Whackadoodle Witch

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  www.MajankaVerstraete.com

  Dedication:

  For all those kids out there who love telling scary stories to their friends, and reading scary books in bed at night, wondering if they should leave the lights on or not after reading. Hope you enjoy this story as well!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Other Books by Majanka Verstraete

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  What’s Next from Majanka Verstraete?

  More from Majanka Verstraete

  More from Evolved Publishing

  Chapter 1

  “I want the doll!” Annie cried, seconds before she launched toward the window of the doll shop.

  Derek stared at the doll shop in surprise. The tiny store stood in the middle of the block, almost hidden between two larger buildings. It had a small show window and a glass door with a sign indicating the shop was open. Above the show window hung a board saying “The Doll Maker.” A thin, long crack meandered from top to bottom on the glass door and the board hung a little askew, like the doll shop had been there for a while, but Derek had never seen it before, and he passed by on this street nearly every day.

  Annie put her hands on the glass, gaping at one of the dolls. “Please, Mommy! Please!”

  My little sister is insane, Derek thought as he shook his head. Annie cried whenever she didn’t get what she wanted, and she didn’t like any of the things he did. Now she’s completely lost it.

  The doll, resembling a young toddler of maybe three years old, with tiny eyebrows, a turned-up nose and a mouth with miniscule teeth, made Derek’s hair stand on end. Its blue, vacant eyes gazed straight at him, as if watching for his reaction.

  Why would Annie want a creepy doll like that?

  He moved aside as his mom rushed forward to grab Annie’s hand and pull her away from the window. It was impossible, but the doll’s eyes followed his every move. Its pink skin and lifelike features made it look like a real child.

  “Annie,” Mom said, “your birthday was two weeks ago. You can’t get a present every time we go shopping.” She held both Annie’s hands in hers and smiled at her. “Let’s get you an ice cream instead.”

  “I don’t want an ice cream,” his little sister said. “I want the doll.” She stamped her feet on the ground. When she didn’t get her way, she was like a raving thunderstorm, and everyone paid for it in the end.

  “Why would you want such an ugly doll?” Derek asked

  “Ugly?” Annie put her small hands on her hips. “The doll isn’t ugly. He looks real. He’s beautiful.”

  “And pricy,” Mom said, looking at the price tag attached to the doll. “You’re not getting the doll and that’s final.” She grabbed Annie’s hand again and pulled her along.

  The spoiled little brat cried out like a banshee, but his mom didn’t care.

  Derek walked after them, but goosebumps ran along his spine, and he turned around to look back at the shop.

  The shopkeeper popped up from behind the doll. The man had a thin beard, a gaunt face and thick, black eyebrows covered by gigantic glasses. He gently patted the doll on its head, and his lips moved as if he was speaking to the doll.

  Derek’s hands trembled and he hid them in his jeans pockets. What a strange guy.

  The door of the shop opened and a boy of about Derek’s age walked out. Derek hadn’t seen the boy before, but Weirdville had two primary schools, so it wasn’t that strange. The boy clutched one of those creepy dolls to his chest.

  “Derek!” Mom yelled. “Keep up, will you?”

  He turned around and sprinted toward Mom and Annie.

  “What were you doing?” Mom asked when he caught up with them.

  “Looking at the shopkeeper,” he said. “He’s weird. I saw him patting one of those dolls on the head and talking to it.”

  “Weird how?” Mom stopped and turned around to face the shop. “I don’t see a shopkeeper.”

  The creepy man had disappeared.

  Chapter 2

  Annie wouldn’t stop nagging about that doll.

  Derek stabbed at his lunch and snapped, “Can’t you shut up about that stupid doll for five minutes?”

  Annie promptly started crying. “Mommy, Derek is mean!”

  Mom rushed to her and took Annie in her arms. “Derek, go to your room.”

  “But, Mom, she’s been whining about that doll for hours.”

  “You still shouldn’t snap at your sister. Now go to your room.”

  Reluctantly, Derek spun and head toward his room. “Stupid Annie,” he muttered below his breath. “Always gets away with everything and whines all day long.”

  He went into his room and slumped down onto his bed, which was in the shape of a race car. He loved cars, and his collection of toy cars was the envy of all his friends. Thinking about his friends, he wished he were outside playing football with Martin and Jamie, his two best friends. Instead, he was grounded thanks to Annie and her stupid doll.

  He lay down and closed his eyes. What would the world be like without Annie... or creepy dolls?

  ***

  When Derek woke up, his room was cloaked in darkness. The alarm clock read eight-thirty. He sat up straight and wiped his eyes. Was I that tired?

  The contours of his desk, chair, laptop
, and bookcase took shape as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. His books were scattered across the floor, as usual. If Mom came in, she’d complain about the mess.

  But something wasn’t right. The room looked different. Something had changed. He scanned the entire room, and for the second time that day, goosebumps raced up his body.

  Something stood on the chair where he usually hung his clothes. It had been empty before. He strained through the darkness to make out the form on the chair, and froze.

  After a moment to catch his breath, he searched for the light switch, groping for it without taking his gaze off the strange object. His fingers trembled as he found the switch and pushed it. The light above his head buzzed.

  A pair of glass doll-eyes stared at him from that chair. The creepy, lifelike doll just sat there, its face turned toward him, watching him, just like it had earlier in the day from the shop window.

  Derek yelped and jumped up on his bed, as if the doll wasn’t on the chair but under his bed. His heart pumped in his chest as if someone was playing the drums in there.

  “How the heck did that doll get here?”

  He closed his eyes and pinched his arm, hoping this is all a nightmare, but when he opened his eyes again....

  There sat the doll, still staring, but now with a creepy grin on its face.

  Derek sprinted out of the room, pushing hard against the door, and stumbled into the hallway.

  “What’s the matter?” Mom asked, appearing in the doorway of her bedroom.

  “That doll!” he cried out. “It’s in my room!”

  “Annie put it there,” she explained. “She wanted you to become friends with her doll.”

  “You bought it for her? Why? It’s scary!”

  “Nonsense. It’s just a doll.” She walked over to him and rubbed her fingers through his hair. “You’re not a little boy who’s scared of toys anymore, right?”

  “I’m not,” he replied, sounding braver than he felt. He had never been scared of toys, but there was something wrong with that doll.

  “Well then, that’s settled. Why don’t you bring Annie her doll?”

  Derek glanced at the doll sitting on the chair in his bedroom. It looked too real. Had he just imagined its stare following him, its weird grin? What if it’s made of flesh instead of plastic? The thought of touching the doll set the hairs on the back of his neck on end, but he took a deep breath, stiffened, and reached out toward the doll.

  At the feel of cold, plastic skin, his shoulders slumped and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. Thank God, the doll is fake.

  He laughed at himself. Why did I ever think it was real? If his friends found out about this, they’d tease him mercilessly for being such a chicken.

  He grabbed the doll with both hands and lifted it up. It was heavier than he expected. He rushed out of his room and into his little sister’s room.

  Annie’s room was completely pink, from the wallpaper to the posters to the bed linen. She sat on her bed, reading a book. Hours ago, she’d made a fuss about the doll, and now she’d already forgotten it.

  “Here’s your doll,” Derek said.

  “His name is Tim,” she said, getting up. “And he’s not a doll.”

  Derek rolled his eyes. What game was his bratty little sister playing now? “Of course he is, Annie. He’s made of plastic.”

  “Stop making fun of him.” She yanked the doll out of his hands and carefully placed it on a chair.

  He huffed and said, “You don’t even care about the doll anymore. You put him in my room.”

  “Because he wanted to meet you,” Annie said. “Don’t ask me why. I don’t know why Tim would care about you.”

  That was just silly, another of his sister’s stupid little games, but his stomach flipped over a bit anyway. He shrugged. “Well, he’s back here now, and I’m going to read some comic books. Bye.”

  “Bye.” She turned toward the doll, and added, “Tim says bye too.”

  A cold shiver ran down Derek’s spine. Don’t be such a wimp! It’s just a doll.

  Chapter 3

  “You were scared of a doll?” Jamie asked, laughing out loud. “What are you, five?” He snickered at Derek, as if wanting to make a point, and then focused back on the soccer ball that he, Derek and Martin were kicking to each other.

  “Ten,” Derek replied. “Which is older than you, by the way. You’d be scared too if you saw that doll, trust me. It looks like a real kid.”

  “Is it one of those dolls from that new shop?” Martin asked. “What’s it called again?”

  “The Doll Maker. Not very original.” Derek thought back about the store and its creepy shopkeeper. He hadn’t slept well all night, agitated by nightmares about the doll crawling into his bed, its mouth twisted into a mocking grin, arms outstretched as if reaching for him.

  “My sister kept going on about those dolls, as well,” Martin interrupted Derek’s thoughts. “Mom wouldn’t buy her one, though.”

  “Why not?” Jamie asked. “Dolls are dolls.” He shrugged and kicked the soccer ball.

  Martin jumped to grab the ball, his fingertips barely grasping it. The ball bounced onto the ground, and he stopped it with his foot. “Well, they’re very expensive,” he explained, keeping his eyes on the ball. “Mom promised she’d get one for her birthday, though.”

  “I wish my parents wouldn’t have bought one for Annie, either,” Derek said. Martin passed him the ball, and he held up his foot to stop it before passing it on to Jamie.

  “Well, my sister is still crying about it, and it’s been five days,” Martin said.

  “What is the deal about these dolls?” Jamie kicked the ball as hard as he could, his face twisting from effort. “I want to see what the fuss is all about.”

  “I can show you the shop,” Derek suggested. He shrugged as if it were no big deal, but the familiar cold shivers from yesterday returned. “It’s not that far.”

  “All right,” Jamie said. “And then you better shut up about it.” He broke into a grin and slapped Derek on the back.

  The three friends left the soccer field and jumped on their bicycles. They raced through the forest—really just a stand of trees about a block wide—until they reached the town square.

  Derek hit the brakes when he saw the toy shop. “There it is.”

  “It’s tiny,” Jamie said. His eyebrows shot up like two rockets. He jumped off his bike, and walked over to the shop window. Apart from two dolls and a few stuffed animals huddled together on a shelf, it was empty. “I’ve never noticed this place until now. How long has it been here?”

  “About a month, I guess,” Martin replied. “I can’t remember when it opened.”

  “Me neither.” Derek looked at both his friends. “Isn’t that a little odd?”

  Jamie shrugged, his eyes still glued at the shop window. “What do we care about dolls?” He paused and took a step back from the window. “They’re a little odd, I guess.”

  “A little?” Derek made a face like someone had just told him dog poop is the most amazing smell in the world.

  “All right, they look real enough to be creepy, but girls like that, I guess,” Jamie said. “Lots of doll makers specialize in making dolls that look real. It’s no big deal.” The side of his mouth twitched a little.

  “You’re probably right,” Martin said. Silence stretched on between them for a good few minutes, the three friends looking at each other to figure out what they should do next.

  “Why don’t we go inside?” Jamie suggested. “We don’t have to buy anything. We can just look. I bet there are lots more dolls inside.”

  Derek shook his head. “Are you crazy? You haven’t seen the shopkeeper yet. He looks mean.”

  “So? We’re just having a look. Come on, don’t be a chicken.” Jamie elbowed Derek in the stomach.

  Derek looked at Martin for help, but his other friend ignored him. “Fine by me.”

  “It’s settled then. Come on.” Jamie pushed open the door, waiting
for Martin and Derek to follow him.

  Derek shot Martin a look that said he wouldn’t mind leaving their impulsive friend all alone in the doll maker’s clutches. Can’t Martin back me up for once?

  The trio walked inside the shop, so tiny that for a minute Derek believed a miniature family must live in there. Grown-ups could barely fit inside, where the ceiling was so low that if he was four inches taller, he’d bump his head. In the corner stood a glass closet filled with those wide-eyed, snarling dolls, and two shelves with stuffed animals. A large, wooden counter dominated the room.

  Derek walked over to the closet. The dolls, all roughly the same size, looked identical at first glance, but the longer Derek stared at them, the more apparent the differences became. The first had a miniscule nose, so small Derek had trouble believing anyone could breathe through that.

  Then again, dolls don’t breathe.

  The second had a round face and a small mouth. The third was about two inches taller than the other two, with intense green eyes that seemed to stare right into Derek’s eyes.

  He took a step back, almost tumbling over his own feet.

  He counted ten dolls on the shelves—twenty pairs of lifelike doll eyes staring at him, watching his every move. He bit his lower lip, tasting the metallic taste of blood.

  We need to get out of here. Now!

  “Look at this,” Jamie said. He held up a stuffed giraffe with one eye hanging loose. “Why would he even sell this?” He threw the animal back onto the shelf, sniffing as if he’d just touched and smelled something disgusting.

  “Maybe some kid broke it earlier.” Martin walked over to a stuffed elephant at the edge of the shelf and pointed at it, question marks burning in his eyes. “This one is missing its trunk.”

  “Can I help you?” a voice interrupted their investigation. The shopkeeper appeared behind the counter, seemingly out of nowhere. His dark, almost black eyes contrasted with his pale skin. He had a crooked nose, shaped like a crayon, and wore a lab coat.