Page 32 of Shattered Souls

“Rayvn.”

“Rayvn,” Maverick echos as if he’s testing it on his tongue. “Just what I thought. A pretty name for a pretty lady indeed.” I pull my hand back and move my eyes to my lap.

Something about being around all of these people is making me panic. I feel just as small and timid as I did when I was first on the run from Kissimmee. Seek only offers a sense of safety solely because I know he wants to be the one to make me break, he won’t let someone else steal that from him—unless it’s Hyde.

“See, Seek.” He punches the grumpy twin in the shoulder. “I knew you were crazy outside of work”

“Maverick,” Seek nods to me. “The park opens in ten minutes and I need to get her ready.” Maverick clicks his tongue and backs away with his hands up in surrender.

“My bad. I’ll see you out there tonight, Rayvn.” I offer him a weak smile without even looking up at him.

Once he’s out of ear shot, Seek crouches down and brings his face level with mine. “Rayvn?” I look at him but say nothing. “Is that real or fake?”

“Real.”

“Fuck,” He stands and walks over to a different station before grabbing a bottle of black face paint and circling his eyes in the color. I swipe my sweating hands on the leggings I’m wearing before swiping through the different paints and trying my best to recreate what I imagined I looked like that night.

Hyde comes up behind me, clad in his full scare actor outfit, and gives me a single curt nod. I look at myself in the mirror and count to ten in my head.

You’ve been through worse, Rayvn. You can get through this too.

“I’m ready.” I mumble to Hyde. He holds out his hand for me and I take it. I slide off the seat and follow him to the changing area. He grabs a black and plaid dress and a pair of black tights and hands them to me.

“Hyde!” A girl in the crowd squeals as she bolts towards the muzzled man that’s walking beside me towards The Dollmaker. “Oh my god! Can we get a picture?”

I step off to the side and let the gaggle of girls have their fantasy moment. If only they knew that he really does use that prop to kill people—oh, and he kidnaps innocent women and shoves them into his weird sensory deprivation dungeon.

Bet they’d think he’s a real catch then.

One of the girls is still talking to Hyde when he turns, grabs my arm, and continues our walk towards my task for the night. The crowd tonight isn’t as dense as when the girls brought me here, but it’s still packed enough that I almost bump into someone every few steps.

The facade of the building looms over me and I swallow thickly. There’s two girls that are dressed as porcelain dolls sitting on the lip of the entrance giggling and snapping their heads inhumanly at the people that enter the house.

“You have an hour.” Seek comes out of nowhere, scaring me more than the house itself. The wind laps at my face paint that’s only halfway dried, sending chills down my spine—though that could be the men surrounding me. “As far as anyone here knows, you’re nothing more than a guest—so no one can touch you but us.”

His voice lacks the thrill of the hunt that he had when he uncaged me from the center of the maze. If I had just gone with the girls when they came to this very house, I wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe the twins would’ve still taken me before I got to leave, but I would at least be more prepared for what lay ahead of me.

“Is now a bad time to mention I’m scared of mannequins?”

“Probably,” Seek twirls a strand of my hair between his fingers. Hyde’s hand is still encasing my arm as he leads me to the polished entrance of the house. Where the manor was dilapidated and covered in spider webs, this one is a polished and pristine doll hospital, so to speak.

“Hyde, Seek.” The tall man wearing a bloodied doctor's coat greets my captors. Neither one of the men say anything before shoving me forward and into my doom.

One hour.

One hour to get out and I can sleep peacefully tonight.

The door slams behind me, sending a gust of wind that slaps my hair into my face. I paw at the strands stuck in the paint and try to find my footing. The outside of the building was in great condition, but the inside is entirely opposite.

The pastel wall paper is slowly peeling off of the walls in uneven patterns. I take a tentative step forward and suck in my scream when a shorter girl in pigtails and pale makeup creepily peeks her head around a corner. A soft lullaby plays throughout the house, the track skipping every once in a while.

I make my way through the house slowly at first, passing through hallways with eyes that follow my every step and rooms of small cribs that have broken dolls tucked nicely under soft quilts. It doesn’t take long for me to hurry my feet in fear that I won’t make it out within the hour marker.

“Such a pretty doll,” The voice floats around the corner leading into my next room. When I finally enter the room, my feet forget how to move as my eyes scan the scene that unfolds in front of me.

The Dollmaker is sitting on a stool in the middle of the room. There are doll arms, legs, and heads hanging from the ceiling on small metal hooks. A large doll is laid across the man's lap as he brushes precise strokes of paint across her lips. All while humming the same lullaby that still echoes throughout the house.

I press my back against the wall behind the man and shimmy on nervous feet to the door that I hope leads to the exit, though I’m doubtful. I keep my body parallel with his to make sure he isn’t watching me.