“I know. I saw poor Timothy’s mother at the grocery shop today. She looked terrible. I can’t imagine how it must feel to have your child kidnapped, not knowing whether he’s safe or not.”
Nicholas. Nick. Timothy. Tim.
The dolls were named the same as the missing kids.
Derek knew it was farfetched, especially since he only knew two of the dolls’ names, and there were about ten dolls in the shop. Still, his intuition told him he was on to something. If only he knew what.
Of course, Nick and Tim were fairly common names. It could be a coincidence.
Annie stormed through the kitchen door at that very moment. “What were you doing in my room?” she asked Derek, her voice trembling with anger.
“What are you talking about?” Derek looked to Mom for help.
“Don’t lie. I know you were there,” Annie’s eyes shot thunderbolts at him. “Tim told me. He was sleeping and you woke him up. Then when he tried to talk to you, you ran away. Why are you being so mean to him? He just wants to be your friend!”
“He’s a doll, honey,” Mom put a hand on her back, trying to calm her down. “I’m sure Tim doesn’t mind.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Annie asked. Tears formed in her eyes. “Tim is my friend. It’s not nice to act like he’s just a doll.”
“Of course he’s special, honey, but—”
“You’re not listening.” Annie stomped her feet on the floor. “He’s not a doll! And he keeps on wanting to be friends with Derek. I don’t know why. Derek is boring. But all he asks about is Derek, Derek, Derek.” She stopped and looked at him. “Why won’t you talk to him?”
Mom gave Derek a look that said ‘you’d better talk to him, or else.’
Talking to Tim is the last thing Derek wanted. “I’m tired,” he lied “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
“Promise?” Annie rubbed her eyes.
“Promise.”
“He won’t be happy if you break your promise,” she said.
Like Derek needed any warning. By tomorrow, he was planning to get rid of the doll once and for all.
Chapter 7
Derek awoke in the middle of the night and sat up straight in bed, sweat dripping off his forehead. A small beam of light pierced his room. He blinked at the half-opened door, which he’d closed before going to bed. He hadn’t locked it, but he’d made sure it was shut so it couldn’t open on its own again.
He got out of bed, his feet touching the warm carpet, and rushed toward his desk to grab the baseball bat hidden behind it. If the doll was coming for him, he’d have to get past the bat first.
Footsteps resonated throughout the room, hurried and light. Derek’s heart pumped in his chest. He braced himself, put his feet wide, and clutched the baseball bat with all his strength.
“I know you’re in here,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Show yourself.”
More footsteps in the darkness, fast this time, running straight at him. He turned around, but it was already too late. The doll launched at him, its mouth a large and gaping hole revealing sharp teeth.
Derek dropped the baseball bat and held his arms in front of his face to protect himself. The doll’s teeth sunk into his arm, and he cried out in pain. He shook his arm violently, trying to throw the doll off. When it didn’t let go, he grabbed the doll with his other hand and hurled it across the room. Derek closed his eyes and held on to his painful arm. It wasn’t bleeding, but there would probably be a horrible bruise in the morning.
The doll twitched and got back up. It stormed at him again, but this time Derek was ready. He grabbed the baseball bat from the floor and hit the doll hard enough to throw it back several feet.
Can living dolls feel pain? He doubted that as the doll charged at him again.
“Derek! What’s going on?” Mom cried from down the hallway. She rushed to his room, her footsteps closely followed by heavier steps belonging to Dad.
Derek’s back was facing the door. He pulled away from the doll and turned around to look at his parents. “The doll... it came at me.”
“Why are you holding that baseball bat?” Mom ignored him, staring wide-eyed at the bat and the chaos of his room. “What’s going on?”
“It’s the doll. It attacked me.”
Mom reached for the switch and turned on the lights. She walked toward him and put her hands on both his shoulders. Then she looked past him, and a dark, sad look crossed her face.
Derek turned to where she was looking, where the lifeless, beaten-up form of the doll lay on the floor. Its plastic skin was cracked all over its face.
“Why would you do this?” Mom asked, disappointment ringing through her voice. “You know how Annie loves that doll.”
“It attacked me! Look!” He held up his bruised arm, but she barely looked at it.
“Go to sleep.” She sighed and walked over to the doll, then lifted it up and caressed its disfigured face. “Hopefully, Mr. Weird will be able to fix the doll. And you’re paying for that, young man.”
“Why won’t you believe me?” Derek waved his injured arm up and down. “That thing attacked me. Why else would I wave a baseball bat at it?”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” Dad said. “I have no idea what games you’re playing, but this ends now.” He turned to Mom, his voice quieter. “We better take the doll downstairs before Annie wakes up and freaks out.”
Mom nodded. “You’re right.”
They left his room without another word.
Why wouldn’t they believe him? It wasn’t as if he’d ever lied to them before—not like that—and he had the bruise to prove the doll had really attacked him. But they wouldn’t even look at it.
Derek swallowed the tears welling up in his throat. He closed his bedroom door and put the chair in front of it. His parents would be upset if they knew he blockaded his door like that, but with a crazy living doll on the loose and out to get him, he would take no chances.
Chapter 8
A piercing scream echoed through the house, waking Derek up. He had a horrible headache, probably thanks to the combination of two rude awakenings. His parents’ mumbled voices resonated from downstairs. At least the chair was still in its spot in front of the door, so the doll hadn’t been able to get into his room again.
The screams stopped, and Derek put on some clothes before opening the door and walking into the hallway. The moment he did so, Annie launched at him, hitting him as hard as she could with her tiny fists.
“What did you do?” she yelled at him. “What did you do to Tim?”
Derek grabbed her wrists and held her arms away from him so she couldn’t hit him anymore. “Your doll,” he said as calm as he could, “is alive.”
“Of course he is! I’ve told you that already.” She kicked him and he winced from pain.
“You mean that....” Derek paused and let go of her. “The doll actually talks to you?”
“Yes.” Annie shot him a look that said she’d like to burn him alive.
Derek decided to ignore her anger for now, and focus on what she just told him. “What does it say?”
Annie shrugged. At least the conversation meant she stopped trying to hurt him. “Tim told me he wants to be your friend. He kept talking about how much it would mean to him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why. I have no idea why anyone would want to be your friend.”
“Your doll came into my room last night. He attacked me.” Derek watched her reaction, hoping this wasn’t some kind of plan she and the doll had come up with.
Her mouth dropped open in genuine surprise. “Tim would never do that.”
“Tim isn’t what you think he is.”
“Derek.” Mom’s voice was all venom. She materialized on top of the stairs, crossing her arms. “Stop telling such nonsense to Annie. Come on, let’s have breakfast. And tonight, after school, you can head over to the shopkeeper and ask him to repair Tim.”
“I can
’t believe you’re calling him Tim, too.” He shook his head and rushed past Mom and Annie, nearly bumping into Dad, who was standing down the steps. Derek ignored him and walked right into the kitchen....
...where he was greeted by none other than Tim.
The ruined face, with cracks meandering all over its plastic skin, mocked him. Despite the heat, he shivered.
He flinched when his Mom put a hand on his shoulder. “After school you’re coming straight home. Then you’ll bring the doll to Mr. Weird’s shop. You’d better hope, for your sake, that he’ll be able to repair it.”
“No,” Derek mumbled below his breath. “I hope he can’t.”
He sat down on the seat farthest away from the doll. He didn’t want to look at it, but his eyes were drawn to it, even if just to ensure that the doll wasn’t moving. In an effort to show the doll he wasn’t afraid, he reached for the newspaper and read through it. The words morphed into sentences that didn’t make a lot of sense, since he was more focused on the doll than on the gossip about celebrities, but when he turned to the second page, he nearly dropped the newspaper.
A large picture of a missing boy dominated the page. The same boy he’d seen walking out of the doll shop the other day.
Chapter 9
“Have you seen Martin?” Jamie asked the moment he saw Derek after school. He was walking up and down in front of the school, his backpack slumped on his shoulders as if the weight was pressing him down.
“No. I was hoping you’d seen him.”
“Nope. I hope he’s all right, though.” Jamie rubbed his hands and looked left and right. “Are you okay?”
“I need to tell you something.” Derek pulled him behind the corner, where other kids couldn’t hear their conversation. “Those dolls are alive.”
“How do you know?” Jamie looked like he’d just bitten into a sour apple.
“I was attacked by Annie’s doll last night. He pulled up his sleeve to show Jamie the bruise.
“That looks nasty. Are those... tooth marks?”
“Yeah. The doll came into my room last night and launched at me. I hit it with a baseball bat.”
“Nice move.” Jamie snickered, and for a moment he seemed like his old, calm self. Then he rubbed his hands again, up and down his arms. “But... why would the doll attack you?”
“I have no idea, but I have a theory about who the dolls are.”
“Who?” Jamie’s voice sounded an octave higher. “You think the dolls are actual human beings?”
“I think they were once. You’ve heard about those young kids disappearing as of late, right?”
“I guess. What’s the connection?”
Derek opened up his backpack and pulled out that morning’s newspaper. He handed it to Jamie. “Look at the picture on the second page.”
Jamie opened up the newspaper. “Another missing boy.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.
“Yeah. I saw that boy come out of the doll shop two days ago, when Annie kept on whining about wanting a doll.”
“And? That only proves he liked dolls.”
“It gets weirder. I know it’s a strange theory, but hear me out. The shopkeeper said one of the doll’s names was Nick. Now one of the missing kids is named Nicholas. Nick is short of Nicholas. Annie’s doll is named Tim, which is short for Timothy, the name of another one of the missing kids.”
“Hold on.” Jamie held up a hand. “I believe you about the doll coming to life, and what happened yesterday at the doll shop was seriously creepy, but those names? They’re pretty common.”
“I know. That’s why I have a plan.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I hit Annie’s doll pretty badly last night. Mom wants me to take it to the shop. If I do, I’ll be on the lookout for any new dolls. If there is one, I’ll ask its name.”
“So?”
“The missing kid’s name, have you read it?”
Jamie looked back to the newspaper. “Ignatius. What the heck kind of name is that?”
“Well, if the shopkeeper says the doll’s name is Ignatius, then I think that will be absolute proof.”
“Hmm.” Jamie scratched his head. “I’m not too keen on going back to that shop. Whether or not that place has something to do with the missing kids, the owner did something to Martin.”
“We have to find out what.”
“Maybe. I want to stop by Martin’s house first, though, to see if he’s all right.”
“Fine.” Derek threw his backpack back over his shoulder.
“And we still need to come up with a plan.”
“I thought we had a plan.”
“That’s only the start of the plan. What if that guy is behind the disappearances? We can’t just let him get away with it.”
“What do you suggest? We beat him up with a baseball bat?” Derek let out a short, humorless laugh.
“No.” Jamie shook his head, and the expression in his eyes turned dark. “Listen up. I’ve got a plan.”
Chapter 10
Half an hour later, Derek and Jamie arrived at Martin’s house.
Martin’s mom opened the door. “Hey, boys, Martin still doesn’t feel well.” Dark circles under her eyes made it appear as if she didn’t feel too well either.
“Can we see him?” Jamie asked.
She shrugged. “All right, but not for long. I haven’t seen him this ill since he came down with the flu in first grade.” She walked ahead of Derek and Jamie, leading them to Martin’s bedroom.
They peeked inside, and a small, tiny figure lay in the single bed in the middle of the room.
Martin’s mom turned on the light, and he flinched. “No,” he whispered.
“Martin, your friends are here.” Silence filled the room, and when it became clear he wouldn’t respond, his mom turned to the other two boys. “I’ll leave you boys alone now. I’ll come back in five minutes.”
Jamie and Derek hesitated before they walked over toward Martin. He looked too small for the bed, practically drowning in the sheets. His skin was as pale as a corpse’s, and drips of sweat clung to his forehead.
Derek reached out to touch Martin’s hand. It was ice cold.
“How are you feeling?” Derek asked.
Martin mumbled a reply Derek couldn’t understand.
“He looks bad,” Jamie said, taking a step back, as if afraid that whatever Martin had was contagious. Grim lines appeared on his forehead. “Do you still think this is all because some shopkeeper brainwashed him? I think he’s bewitched or something.”
Yesterday, Derek wouldn’t have believed Jamie, but after last night, he was ready to believe anything.
“We have to find a way to help him.”
“All I know about spells is what I got from video games,” Jamie said. “Usually, if you can destroy the witch’s source of power, you break all their spells.”
“In Mr. Weird’s case, that would be the dolls. His source of power.”
“I think so too. But if your theory is right, and the dolls are the kidnapped kids, then we can’t just destroy them.”
“You’re right. We stick to the plan, and then we’ll see.” He searched Jamie’s face. “Are you sure you want to come with me? Martin looks horrible and I understand if you don’t want to risk—”
“Shut up, Derek. I’m coming with you and that’s final. Martin is my friend too.” Something in Jamie’s expression, in the dark, determined look in his eyes, hadn’t been there before.
“I know but... I’m going because that doll attacked me, and because I can’t let him hurt my little sister. And for Martin, of course. You’re only going for Martin, so it’s all right if you decide not to.”
“It’s my fault he’s in this state. I was the one who suggested we go into the store.”
Derek’s expression softened and he put a hand on Jamie’s back. “I was the one who talked about it in the first place. It’s not your fault.”
“Well, I still feel guilty. So even
if you don’t want me to, I’m tagging along.” Jamie shrugged off his hand and took a step forward, as though he wanted to say something to Martin.
“All right, then,” Derek said, staring at his hands.
“Boys?” Martin’s mom interrupted them, and they both turned to where she stood in the doorway. “Are you ready to go? Martin needs his rest.” She smiled at them, but tears pooled in her eyes.
“We’re ready,” Derek said. “Sorry to bother you. I hope Martin gets well soon.”
“You’re good friends. Martin is lucky to have you.” She patted Derek on the shoulder.
Derek bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. If it weren’t for them, Martin wouldn’t be in this state, so it felt wrong when she said Martin was lucky to have them.
I will find a way to get you better, buddy, he promised. No matter what it takes.
Chapter 11
Before they headed to the doll shop, the boys hid the doll under a pile of papers in Derek’s bag. They didn’t want to take any chances with the puppet. Derek had asked Jamie to keep an eye on the bag while they rode their bikes to the shop, in case the doll moved. So far, the doll had been calm.
Too calm, Derek thought. “It’s keeping up pretenses because you’re here. At least, I think that’s what it’s doing.”
“It’s smart,” Jamie said, risking another look at the bag.
They put their bikes against a tree opposite the shop. “Don’t lock your bike,” Jamie said when Derek bent over to lock it. “We might need to get away quickly.”
“Are you scared?” Derek put his hands in his pockets so his friend wouldn’t notice they were trembling.
Jamie shrugged. “Are you?”
“A little,” he lied. His stomach twisted and turned from the moment he’d looked at the shop. But he needed to do this—for Annie, and for Martin.
He pushed the door of the doll shop open, and a bell clanged in the back room. The same dolls as yesterday sat in the glass closet. The stuffed animals, each missing an eye or a tail, or just looking filthy, lay still on their shelves.
Weirdville: The Doll Maker (Lower Grade Spooky Fun Adventure) Page 3
