Doll Face (19 page)

But it can’t be sweat, you know it fucking can’t sweat, there’s no way it can sweat—

When it continued to move in the moonlight, she stomped it until it came apart, her eyes starting from her head and teeth clenched, her blood boiling with panic.

It stopped moving.

She clung to a glass counter filled with watches, trying to catch her breath, trying to keep her mind from spraying into a fine mist in her skull.

Thump, thump, thump.

Mute with horror, she looked behind her and felt her knees go weak. She stumbled back against the wall. Doll faces. That’s what she was seeing. Dozens and dozens of shining white doll faces hitting the plate glass windows…but not dropping away, hanging on, suckering themselves to the glass with their mouths, like snails clinging to the sides of an aquarium.

They crowded the windows, all with the same sucking lamprey mouths and feral eyes as red as wet cherries, but luminous and bright like tensor lamps. Staring, searching, sweeping the confines of the store with a lewd, diabolic glare, they watched her. The eyes looked to her like the running lights of ghost ships coming at you out of the fog. Noxious and poisoned eyes that fixed her to the wall like a pinned beetle, knotted her insides, making her want to crawl into the darkness within herself and cry.

There were so many faces by that point that they covered the windows, the mouths sucking at the glass with the repulsive, slobbering sounds of babies at teats. All of them were oblong and distorted, made of some white undulant tissue that would not hold its shape. They inflated and deflated, forever shifting and mutating like images in fun-house mirrors. They waited there, watching her, pulsating like jellied ova.

Ramona suppressed a mad desire to start giggling and stumbled back into the shop, through a door and into some kind of workroom. Dizzy, nearly in shock, she hit the floor and lay there, shaking. Hot sweat rolled down her face and her teeth were chattering. This was it. It was just too much now. She was going insane and she welcomed it. There was no point in fighting; better just to accept things and go quietly mad.

Still blackened with soot, sticky with sweat and ashes, her pants unzipped and her coat gone, her shirt torn open and her scalp aching from the hair she’d torn from it, she closed her eyes.

No, Ramona, don’t go to sleep. You can’t go to sleep now.

But it was too late. The exhaustion and trauma had emptied her and she felt her mind dropping into darkness. Bare seconds after she warned herself against it, she was sleeping.

31

As soon as they stepped into the house, Soo-Lee screamed. She felt weak and dizzy, completely overwhelmed by an irrational terror without form. It filled her like black ink and she was utterly powerless to fight against it. She slumped against the wall, white and shivering from head to foot. It took her a moment to realize it wasn’t a wall at all, but the things leaning against it—doll people. They were crowded there and her hand actually sank into one, a cool fluid squirting over her fingers.

She cried out for Lex, but he was not there.

She knew damn well that the archway leading into the living room should have been right in front of her, but it wasn’t. It just wasn’t there. And, worse, neither was Lex. There was a wall where he had been standing like she was in some kind of carnival haunted house complete with sliding doors and hidden passages.

“LEX!” she shouted. “LEX!”

But there was no reply, only her voice coming back to her from what seemed a dozen different locations, forever bouncing and echoing but not losing its volume. Such a thing was not physically possible, but it kept up until she had to cover her ears with her hands.

When it ended and she could think again, she tried to be reasonable, logical. This was just like the diner. What she was seeing was some sort of physical illusion, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily real. Lex was probably close by. She had to
let
herself see him. Drawing in a deep breath, Soo-Lee reached out again to where she knew he would be in the dark and she touched more doll things. Something like a wet, furry mouth nipped at her finger.

The puppet master is turning up the heat. You are terrified and that is energizing all this. Just try to calm down.

She did try, but to no avail. She could not overcome the vein of hot-white terror that moved through her in waves. To beat it would mean she would have to convince herself that the walls were not lined with waiting doll people and that would mean touching them, thinking
through
them, and reaching out for what was really there.

Impossible.

Entirely impossible.

She tried again and nearly gagged on her own fear. It filled her throat like warm vomit. No, there was no thinking around something this big, this omnipotent, this starkly real. Meeting it face-to-face was beyond comprehension. She needed to move. Trembling, she began to shuffle forward, following the passage and letting it take her away, hoping that movement and distance would somehow wear this dark fantasy down until reality reinserted itself. The passage seemed to veer from the left and to the right, back and forth, slowly moving ever downward until she was gripped by a crushing claustrophobia.

Ahead, there was light…dim, guttering yellow light but light all the same.

She went to it, moving faster now and when she reached it, she had to put a fist to her mouth so that she did not scream again. The light was coming from the doll people that crowded the walls in some medieval vision of hell. It came from their hollow-socketed eyes—a flickering yellow glow. As she stood there, up and down the passage each set of eyes lit up like Christmas bulbs and the reason for that, she knew, was because it was important she see just how many of them there were so she would realize how weak and insignificant she was by comparison.

Their mouths were all yawning open as if they were screaming…screaming out the pure terror of what they were and maybe what they had once been. The screams were silent. Her ears did not hear them, but in her mind they were high-pitched and hysterical, scraping her nerves raw.

She stumbled along, gasping for breath, her head filled with the shrieks of the dead, damned, and deranged, her eyes rolling in their sockets as they took in all the swarming figures around her bunched together, the screaming faces and surreal, frightening architecture of their bodies: the dangling limbs and skeletal bodies, torsos laid open to reveal the intricate clockwork guts of gears and cogs and wires and pulley systems, the elaborate bone-like armatures. The faces of doll babies were paper skulls, leering and ape-like, bodies like shattered vessels and ossuary baskets.

Something inside Soo-Lee was caught between a laugh and a scream at what she was seeing, at all the leering, jeering, ogling, staring doll faces that pressed in from every quarter. So many, so very many. Looking upon them evaporated her will and made her heart feel like a swamp that had been drained, leaving nothing but black mud and rotting organic detritus behind. In her mind, she could see her soul leaving her body like a thousand glimmering fireflies exiting her mouth.

It was all subjective, but she was forced deeper into the barren underworld of herself.

You can’t fall apart now. You can’t! Lex is trying to reach you so try to reach him!

Yes, she knew that was important, but knowing it did nothing to lessen her claustrophobia. It increased by the moment. The passage now seemed to be entirely made of doll people. They grew from the walls like piebald mushrooms—lumped, mounded, bulbous, and crowding, synthetic faces pushing out like expanding soap bubbles until there were no walls, only more and more faces of grinning sackcloth, sloughing burlap, carved wood, and vacuum-formed plastic. They seemed to be multiplying around her through some perverse binary fission, faces splitting into more faces that divided yet again into still more. She watched with unblinking, fearful eyes as the face of a smiling mannequin woman cracked open with a rubbery, shearing sound like a soft-shelled egg and four, then five puckering baby doll faces emerged like hungry chicks, oval mouths opening and closing, suctioning like blowholes.

It happened again and again as faces and bodies ripped open to disgorge clusters of puppet babies still glistening with the foul slime of afterbirth.

Soo-Lee fought down the urge again to scream and laugh simultaneously, to vent the gibbering madness inside her. This is what it was like to go insane. It felt like her mind had gone to a warm, melting glop that would drain from her skull or run out of her ears.

The multitude of heads around her seemed to inflate like balloons, alive but inert, animate yet lifeless, their shrill mewling cries reverberating through the passage and pushing her far beyond the boundaries of sanity.

Their glowing eyes seemed to watch her, peering deep inside her.

Even the angled ceiling above now was formed of hanging mannequin things. Faces like demonic baboons sneered and grinned overhead, dangling limbs swaying back and forth in some unheard charnel rhythm, sharp fingers like darning needles brushing the top of her head and tracing the back of her neck with splintered nails.

No matter which way she turned, their awful cadaverous visages pressed in closer and closer, their luminous eyes making bodies move and limbs reach as shadows crawled and crept. She could hear them whispering and giggling with scratching, mocking voices. She could feel an unnatural heat coming from them and smell the dark fetor of their breath.

The wise thing would have been a full retreat, but there was no going back now. Behind her, the walls had pushed in and sealed the passage with doll parts and the walls around her were pressing in ever closer. She stumbled along faster and faster, falling, getting up, falling again, faces moving in closer and fingers like tree roots tangling in her long hair. Hinged mouths called her name and begged her to join them.

As she fell yet again, she looked up to see the swollen belly of a doll woman. It was cutaway like that of an anatomical model to reveal a doll fetus within, suspended upside down in the amniotic sac. It was a plastic stillborn thing…yet it was sucking its thumb with slurping sounds for a lack of anything better to suckle. When it turned its shriveled, eyeless face on Soo-Lee, she crawled away on all fours, making a pained moaning sound in her throat.

It’s a lie,
she told herself.

It’s an illusion that has been created to unhinge your mind, to amplify your fear and thereby enhance the power of the puppet master. You know that. You’ve known it all along, yet you keep cooperating. You keep reacting instead of acting. It was a stupid dumbfuck bonehead play to come down this passage and you knew it, yet you did.

Yet, you did.

This stopped her. Jesus, she was crawling around on her hands and knees like an animal, like some mole scrabbling about underground. She stood up. She stood up tall. She had to think herself out of this mess before it got any worse…if it could conceivably do so. The way behind her was sealed up. Or at least, it seemed to be. What if it wasn’t at all? What then?

Soo-Lee turned on her heel and moved back the way she had come.

The doll things that were the walls of her tight little world began to get agitated right away. They shook and trembled. Fingers grasped, limbs kicked, mouths began to make a low sighing sound.

Still she pushed forward.

Either she broke the black magic spell of this place or was broken.

There could be no other way.

She kept moving, walking faster now, and as she did, really pouring on the steam, the passage began to open. She blinked her eyes several times to be sure of it, but, yes, it was opening.

It can’t possibly be this easy.

But maybe it was. She almost believed this until she saw the black hulking shape stepping from the shadows at the far end. That it was one of the doll people she did not doubt any more than she doubted that it was coming for her. She was breaking the rules of the puppet master’s little game and she was going to be punished now, broken upon the wheel of Stokes, as it were.

She began stepping backward, her resolve dispersing inside her.

No, no, no!
she warned herself.
Don’t back down! Don’t give in to the fear! Don’t you see? The illusion was dissolving, the house of cards was ready to fall so this…this…thing was sent to reinforce the nightmare and you’re yielding to it! Do not yield! It’s only as powerful as you make it!

As if the form could easily read her thoughts, it began to growl with a low throaty sound.

Soo-Lee trembled.

It wanted her to tremble, it
needed
her to tremble, because the more she trembled the more deadly it became. Her fear was the hot air that inflated it. Without that, it was nothing but a shriveling rubber sack…but even knowing this did not help because she was completely terrified. She could only see a hulking dark shadow moving steadily in her direction, but the terror it inspired was very real as the growling continued. As it came on, the glowing eyes of the doll faces winked out one by one. It was bringing darkness with it, a shifting wall of blackness.