Twisted Imaginings – A Horror And Gore Themed Blog.
Katie had never liked the doll.
James had bought it from Romania while out there on business. He said that the locals had pleaded with him to take it after learning that he had a daughter. He’d offered to pay for it but they refused, saying that the doll going to a good home was more than sufficient. He had asked them if it was made in Romania to which he thought they say, “Real!”. His Romanian was poor, and so it seemed was their English but Sophie had been delighted to have the realest doll ever and in her innocent 3 year old way had named the doll RiRi. It had pleased Katie and James immensely as Sophie had now appeared to settle into her bedroom thus finally getting them over the last hurdle of settling into their new house.
In fact it all seemed a little too good as Sophie would now refuse to anywhere without the doll. She was often found talking intently to it and appeared startled when her parents discovered her. James seemed less worried and considered that Sophie was just going through and imaginary friend stage. Most children do, he reasoned, and Sophie was a lot more relaxed. But Katie couldn’t help but worry at how such a fractious girl had suddenly mellowed literally overnight.
She jumped as she heard the scratching again from the ceiling. Rats! She was supposed to be searching for pest control on the internet but had taken a break to enjoy some wine while James showered. .Neither of them could remember when it had started but it was there. Ever since he’d triumphantly pulled the doll out of it’s box. Oh it was a real doll alright!
Sitting up, she opened a new browser tab. What was the Romanian for ‘real’? Slightly light headed from her second glass of the evening, she clumsily had only typed ‘rea’ before clicking the search button. She cursed and was about to type again when she noticed there was a translation. Time seemed to stop, her heart trying to pound through her ribs. A cold sweat broke out all over her as James blood curdling scream pierced the thick silence.
Running to the stairs then up them seemed surreal. Somehow she managed to but it felt like her limbs weren’t cooperating as she entered Sophies room. The blood had by now stopped spurting from the wound but there was no doubt he was dead. Mouth open, trying to speak yet blabbering, she turned to see Sophie sitting on the edge of the bed. She was holding onto her doll. The real doll. Comprehension sunk in as the doll turnex to look at Katie, it’s eyes burning a deep red, and emitted a growl so deep that it vibrated through Katies bones as it launched it at her. Those Romanian villagers hadn’t been saying ‘Real’ as she now knew. They had been saying ‘Rea’.
Rea was Romanian for evil…..