The Dollmaker

Thud woosh

The Dollmaker lived on the edge of town. He kept to himself most days, but that didn’t stop the rumors from spreading. Usually rumors are par for the course in a small town such as the one we find ourselves in , but what do you do when the rumors are closer to the truth than you know?

Thud woosh

There was nothing particularly odd about this man. He was a tall, dark skinned man, in his early 60s. He didn’t often speak, but when he did he spoke in a rich, baritone voice He did have one eccentricity though. One thing that lit the rumor mill ablaze. The Dollmaker, if you can imagine, sold dolls.

Thud woosh

Rumors don’t always have a logical source, and of course the old man at the edge of town is ripe for forming rumors. However the rumors weren’t about him. They were about the dolls. Life-sized dolls, of all ages, races, genders, If you could name it, he probably had it.

Thud woosh

Not only life-sized , but life-like. Silky hair caressed there heads, and the eyes. Don’t look in there eyes, they say the reflection could drive you insane. They looked so real, it was almost as if they were posing. One might expect them to, get up, straighten themselves out, and walk out the store, and if the rumors were true, they could.

Thud woosh

The rumors were not entirely true, as you can probably guess, but that didn’t stop them from spreading. They told stories of people who went into the shop, and never came back out. Only to be found in the display window by their grieving mother. No evidence had ever been found to back this claim though.

Thud woosh

His real name was Henry Hunnicker, and as long as anyone could remember he’d always lived in town. He was a husband, and a father, and he led a happy life.

Thud woosh

Even then he was a quiet man. Opting to be a more action forward member of the community. Everyone in town knew that if something needed to be done, he was the guy to call, and with little more than a grunt of affirmation he would get it done.

Thud woosh

That was until the night his wife died. He tried to continue to help the community, but when grief strikes, it strikes true. He withdrew into himself and with his son out of the state for college, Henry Hunnicker was all alone.

Thud woosh

Henry was a valued member of the town however, and the town would help him out however they could. Even his son would come to visit more often, to show some support. They helped him get a job at the local cemetery.

Thud woosh

Now you might not understand the logic of that move. Why would Henry Hunnicker work at a cemetery, especially the very cemetery his wife was buried in. The close proximity to his wife comforted him, in a macabre way. The towns people found it a little strange how much time he spent at her grave, but “We all grieve differently” they would say. They never knew how right they were.

Thud woosh

A shovelful of dirt arced gently across the night sky. Then another, then another before Henry hit the lid of the coffin. She was a little dirty, but he’d clean her. He’d preserve her, and keep her safe.

Thud woosh

Transporting her was easy. The cemetery was also at the edge of town after all. He brought her home, and made good on his promises. He cleaned her up, changed her clothes. He painted her face a pale pink, and although he wasn’t good with makeup, he tried his best. Setting her on the chair, he admired his work.
His lovely wife. His first doll.

Thud woosh

Henry waited. He had covered his tracks but surely he missed something. He was certain that at any second he would here a banging at the door, and the unwelcome cry of “Police!”, but it never came. The cemetery owner called to ask why he wasn’t at work. The owner hadn’t noticed anything either. Henry smiled for the first time in a long time.

Thud woosh

Henry found that he had a knack for doll making. After the first one he just couldn’t stop. He found the whole thing to be exhilarating. A sort of therapy. Looking into the face of death and bringing it back to life.

Thud woosh

Though he soon encountered a problem, anyone with a collection of life sized dolls might have. He ran out of places to put them

Thud woosh

Quitting his job, Henry opened up shop. Henry was now the Dollmaker. Henry, if you can imagine, sold dolls

Thud woosh

Rumors continued to spread, but the Dollmaker brushed them aside. Little did they know, the truth lay shallowly beneath those rumors, but as long as nobody found it, The Dollmaker didn’t mind.

Thud woosh

And on quiet nights like this, when the wind blows just right, you can hear the

Thud woosh

of the Dollmakers shovel.

Thud woosh

Searching for his next masterpiece.

Thud.