Chapter Text
Horror stories were the worst. Of beasts of the night, creatures underneath your bed, or faux friendly faces. The type of stories that left children too afraid to sleep with the lights off, and adults looking over their shoulders on cold nights. But the truth was that none of these stories were purely fiction. That simply believing something isn't real, isn't enough to be protected from it.
Unlike the horror stories of childhood fiction, the worries of the world had no guaranteed end. This was how Avery saw the world. A mess of horrid creatures lurking, waiting patiently on the moment he is at his weakest to strike. So he shows no weakness. Not even when his mother comes banging at his door again.
"I know you took the doll, Avery. Open this door and hand it over, now!" he only clutched it tighter. A porcelain, with soft rosy cheeks, deep green eyes, and curly tar hair to her shoulders. She fashioned a frilly dress of light and ocean blue. The entire thing was full of frills and bows, with a flower pattern to the hem, and a small golden bell on her chest. Completing her look was a matching mobcap perched atop her head. The umbrella that came with the girl was sitting in the middle of the twin size bed. He named her Chloe.
He knew by now his father had gone for the key's to his room, so he sat next to his bed waiting with his heart pounding. S had been the first tangible item he'd come across when exploring his mother's room. It was on her dresser, freshly opened and looking beautiful. He had only taken it up for a closer look, but when his mother had emerged from the bathroom, he had been frightened and ran off with it. He knew it would be better to return it before his father saw him, but his body was unable to move, even as the lock clicked.
He sat, staring at two angry shadows as they stormed in. With their spiked heads and long tails. His father's face had gone from snow white to rose, and his mother looked just as upset. She marched over, reaching him before he could find solace in the darkest corner of the room. She grabbed Chloe by it's tiny hand, mindlessly pulling as she shouted at him. His eyes squeezed shut, his arms mimicking around Chloe's body. "Let go, you little brat!" but he didn't.
They stayed in futile motion for another few seconds before Avery was swept up by strong arms. Started, the porcelain fell from his hands. Without a firm grip on either side, she fell to her death. The once beautiful creature was now a mess of shards. The end of her dress was now slightly torn. His mother let out a shriek worthy of cracking poor Chloe, had it not already been. Avery fell to his knees, scarlet liquid beginning to pour on the wooden floor.
"See what you've done now?!" even with a hoarse voice, the giants tone sent Avery into his state of horror. His legs began to sting, but he was once again stuck. "I just bought it, and look what you did!" she kept screaming, even as Avery's face grew wet.
His father, with clutched fists and cold eyes, ordered his mother away, and the two left the child to his sorrows. Even with his orders, the will to move would not come. For thirty minutes, he sat in his room, drowning in the mess he created. The smell of iron overtook the space, but that pungent smell was not what moved him. Rather, a chill down his spine snapped him out of his daze. He hadn't a clue why he began to shake. The curiosity of the feeling, and the hatred of it, was enough to have him wobbling to his feet, his lower half drenched.
With stilted movements, he crept down the hall and into the bathroom, collapsing. He was aware of the placements of everything he would need. The first, was a shower. Once he was clean, and before blood could pour again, he retrieved a cotton ball and salt water. The wound wasn't that large, caused only by a scrape from the edge of a shard, than the shard itself. It slid across his knee thinly. He was able to move the ball cross the space with ease. He hissed.
Smaller cuts along both his legs were treated at a time, until he had them all bandaged up. It still stung to stand, but the next thing he had to do was clean his mess. "I'm so stupid," treading quietly down the stairs and to the storage room under it, he brought a mop and it's bucket back to his room. First was the crimson mess, then the shiny remnants of what once was. Despite her body being un-salvageable, Avery brushed off her clothes and hat, laying them on the bed before continuing his work.
The cut on the dress could be sewed back into beauty, so it was worth keeping. As he finished cleaning the shards, a shadow loomed over him. It was slimmer than that of his father's, and taller than his mother's. "What are you up to?" Adeline, who had no doubt heard the screaming of the hour prior, spoke to him in her signature condescending tone. Her voice was a higher pitch, her eyes crinkled at the corner, and she held a painfully obvious fake smile. Obvious to him, anyway.
"I made a mess again."
"You do that quite often. Mother told me you went into her room again." she invited herself on his bed. "Taking something that didn't belong to you? 'Wretched thing'. Mother called aunt Sheri, she's been going on and on about you. Calling you all manner of names but your own."
Throwing away the shards became the most interesting task to Avery as she spoke. The rubbish bin by the door was full, and throwing the shards there anyway wasn't his brightest idea. A hum turned his attention back to the mattress. Adeline held the dress, her faux smile now a smirk. "Pretty dress, I hope you weren't intending on keeping this? What does a boy need with a doll dress anyway?"
"I named her Chloe," his tone was soft, his head and eyes downcast. She snorted.
"And you gave it a name. You're funnier than you're given credit for." taking the dress and hat, she made her way out of the room. "Just came for these, mother wants them," or doesn't want him to have them "Work towards earning your toys, rather than stealing them, alright? Bye." with cruelty disguised as advice, Adeline left. Avery released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
A ringing sound engulfed the room, the clock indicating seven pm. At the same time, the sickening aroma of chicken climbed the stairs to his room. Smells like teen Spirit blasted through the house.
He opened the window in the corner of the room, cool air flew around, followed swiftly by the chirping of crickets in the near distance. Avery's eyes narrowed, his arms stretched upwards and his head went back. He shuffled over to his sanctuary and lay fatigued. His legs trembled with every movement, and he winced every time he touched a bandage.
His mind whirled with reasons upon reasons as to why what he did was wrong. He deserved every cut he had. Even with the smell of chicken and fresh air, the daunting scent of iron didn't leave. He pursed his lips. An idea struck him, and within moments his sketchbook and pencil were in front of him.
The first page featured Shavonne. All that lived on the cartridge was blacked out silhouette. It's outline had two pointy lines sticking from its head and another at it's waist. He flipped through drawings of other dolls, Jerrico, Molly, Tess and eventually a new doll in her own pretty dress. The title, Chloe.
The sound of the floorboards creaked, and his father appeared in the doorway. He remained silent, taking in the room and the lingering smell. "You owe your mother two hundred dollars for the doll, and fifty for emotional distress."
"I don't have money…" his voice was muffled as he drew his knees to his head.
"It'll be added to your tab." he paused. "Dinner is ready."
Adeline and his mother were already seated at the round table. There was one other chair, which his father sat at. His plate laid unguarded on the counter, already having been pitched by a fly. Avery scowled. He and his food returned to his room.
"You're not allowed outside for the rest of the week." It was Monday. He kept walking.
He left the plate on his side table, retreating to the happy place of his drawings. He started writing on Shavonne's page. 'Very nice, helpful, listens, Hates my family'. Shavonne would be the perfect friend. More so than the dolls of fiction, Shavonne was real. Following him everywhere, just like a shadow.
'I wish you were real' — Drawer's note.
He closed the book, placing it next to the umbrella Adeline had forgotten about. He turned his lamp off and laid down. "Goodnight." his voice barely above a whisper. A low growl overtook the room, a purple hole forming where Avery had sat in blood. From it, a figure, as short as him, appeared. With thick horns and a tail that wrapped around its form. It had green eyes, black hair, with a purple streak at its side, and an eerie grin. It's teeth sharp, and it's aura a bundle of purple lines. The portal closed.
Avery, who had slept through the whole thing, had yet to sense what loomed above him. A monster he had never faced before. His first ever friend.