Mommy, my eyes!

"Mommy, it has my eyes!"  she cried.

"That's nice dear."  The little girl's mother said, distracted by the garden on the top of the hill.   This was their first day in the new house, a house that none of the family had seen before late last night.  They had inherited from an uncle and decided that they would stay in it to clean it up before selling it.  The mother was busy exploring the outside while her daughter and husband were working on the inside.  She was using this excuse of checking out the garden to get away from the dust and mold that floated through out the old house.  They all had a hard night sleep last night, sleeping on air mattresses in the large living room.  Noises echoed throughout the house all night, the husband reassuring all of them that it was just 'old house noises.'  None of them were convinced.  Being outside was the mother's escape from the feeling of dread.

"Mommy, it has my EYES!"  she cried even louder.

"I see.  Did you tell daddy?"  The house had three floors, and a basement, though she had not seen any of the floors.  Seeing the bathroom and kitchen was more than enough to give her an idea of what the rest of the house looks like.  This uncle of his was someone that didn't believe in cleaning, she thought as she stared at the black growth coming out of the bathtub drain. 

According to her husband he was some sort of collector and inventor, using the basement for most of the construction.  There was an investigation into the uncle after multiple disappearances in the town.  They had looked him up when they found out they were getting this place, he was accused of killing some children and a couple of teenagers, the bodies never found.   The uncle never denied the accusations, but through some tricky courtroom maneuvers he was able to escape any judgement and shut himself into the house.  After that no one saw him again. 

Her husband had gotten up early to check out the house, he was a little excited to see what he could find.   He asked her to come with him, maybe they would find some money or some amazing invention that could make them rich.  She had shuddered when she looked at the dark staircase leading up to the second floor.  There was something disturbing to think that his uncle had all of these bedrooms but lived alone.  She told her husband, and he said exactly, he must of had something amazing in those rooms.  But, she was thinking more about those poor kids that probably died in this house, maybe locked up in those rooms.  She was not interested in seeing any of the murder rooms.  Instead she let her daughter go with him.  And now she was bugging her about something that had her eyes.

"I love you Mommy."  This voice was clearly not her daughters.  It sounded recorded, almost like a robot. 

"MY EYES!!"  Her daughter broke down into a screaming terror.  She always wanted our attention, and this is her new way to get it.  The sound finally cracked the fragile threads of her patience with this entire situation.  She was ready to yell at her, ready to pour out a week of compounded frustration on her daughter.  She turned around to look at her daughter, and all of the frustration disappeared and was replaced with fear. 

Blood was seeping out between her daughter's fingers.  She was covering her face, only her trembling mouth showing in between her hands, her screaming has slowed down to a pathetic cry.  She could hear the sadness in the cry, the sadness that mommy wasn't helping or understanding the pain she was feeling.  Seeing her daughter like that terrified her, but she had no way to comprehend what was standing next to her daughter.  It was large porcelain doll.  It looked like a five-year-old girl, brown hair, brown eyes and a blue dress.  One of its hands was holding onto her daughter's dress, as if they were the best of friends and the doll wanted to show her daughter off.  The first thought that popped into her brain was that the doll's eyes weren't the same color as her daughter's.  But, then the doll's other hand opened up and revealed her daughter's two little eyes, blood on the fingertips from where it must have clawed them out. 

"My eyes...my eyes...my eyes..."