I hummed a merry little tune whilst opening my shop along the street of the market. It was the Midieval Times and I ran a little stall along the side of Main Street, like many others. I’m no ordinary man—I am from lands far off. I came from the lands hidden from plain sight, or so I tell my customers. Many take me for a wacky man speaking blasphemy, with my strange slicked-back hair that has no white though I am past forty and my strange clothes, but I know powers far more dangerous than anyone else in this growing crowd. This crowd of my hapless, unkowing customers.

Most of my wares are dangerous. My statues come to life in the middle of the night to kill people. My china poisons those who drink from them. My books leave the person weeping tragically forever, or dangerously mad for a time, or unable to put them down. Like…for real. My jewelry drives people mad.

I could plead guilty, to convince you that I feel sorry for the people, that a man must eat sometimes. But…that would be lying. 

The truth is, I _like _when they buy the things and walk away pleased. I like looking in my crystal ball in the black of night to watch them scream in agony. I like to experience their pain. 

A customer! They walk up to my stall—a young boy around thirteen. “Hello, do you have any crystals for sale? It’s a gift for my sister. She’s obsessed with diamonds and stuff. It’s not her birthday or anything, but she’s going to go on her first rock hunt tomorrow and I wanted to get her something. Not too expensive—like, twelve gold coins?” He glances awkwardly at his pocket, where there are quite surely twelve coins exactly in his pocket—remnants from his twenty gold in allowance, no doubt. 

“Ah, yes!” _Dang it, _I think. When one recieves my items as a _gift, _it offsets the malice. The gem even begins to respect them because they got it through an act of kindness! Unless…

I turned and scrabbled through the drawers filled with shiny stones. Some are fake, some are gliterring pebbles I found on the road, some are real with evil spells. And one of them is powerful enough to get past any friendly gift idea offsetting spells. 

I placed the heavy, large and genuine pearl on the counter. It captivated our eyes for a moment. the pure milky white swirling in with many other colours, swishing in and out of the light, cloudy hand-sized ball. 

At last, the boy speaks. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Where did you find it?”

“That, my lad, is a very interesting story,” I begin. “When I was a young man, not much older than you, I set out on a journey, on a complete and sudden foolish whim to kill a dragon. I wanted to prove myself to the village, I suppose. To prove, perhaps, that I was more than some fishermen. 

“I stalked into the lair of the beast. It was a dark and foul cave,” I hissed in a low voice. The boy leaned in. “It smelled of sulfer. A more duisgusting, stinky stench you never smelled. But there, piled into chests was piles upon piles of gold. Gold, my boy! Jewels and precious necklaces of coral dotted the pure yellow circles that were piled into chests, casually overflowing and cascading in a still waterfall onto the stony, cold floor. Then…I heard it.” The boy’s eyes widened. “The claws of the beast! I turned as it scraped into the cave on his scaly feet. His scales, they were blood red, and his belly was the same yellow as his eyes. The eyes were cat eyes, child, but fiery and malicious. I stumbled back. The dragon’s long, shiny snout, with his nostrils wreathed in smoke, paced ever closer, dangerously. It saw me as a threat to it’s treasure. I pulled out my sword, hiding it behind me back. It lunged, and I stabbed it down the throat!” I yanked my pocket knife out of my belt and stabbed it on the wood table. The boy jumped back.

“But that wasn’t the end of it. I yanked out my sword and watched, triumphant, and the lizard screeched with a sound undescribable to ears who have not heard it. It waddled this way and that, wobbling on its feet. It’s head tossed side to side, and then it collapsed, its legs failing. And then,” I continued proudly, “I grabbed my blade and carved the heart out of the very beast!” The boy gasped. “As I heaved the big, pulsing red object into my arms, I noticed it was quite cool to the touch, and hard. It was then that I realized the dragon had never known emotion, because their heart was made of cold, stony ruby.” The boy let out another surprised cry. I went on. “Then I noticed a pulsing white light in the center of the ruby. I slammed my sword onto the heart and it cracked in two, revealing this very pearl… the true heart of the dragon.”

The boy took in a breath. “Wow, sir. You’ve really been places.”

“Aye,” I said. “Anyway, this stone is worth thirteen gold, due to the gross symbolism and the fact that dragons are quite common these days, but because I am slightly superstitious and a kind old man, I’ll lower the price to eleven gold.”

“Sold,” gasped the boy breathlessly. He practically threw the coins on the table to snatch up his prize. “Thank you so much! She’ll love it. And the story was great! In fact, here.” He tossed me his last gold coin. “I was saving it for a piece of candy, but the tale you wove was brilliant! I bet the village children would love it if you volunteered for the Storytime Hour every day. I’ll try to replicate the story to my sis, but I doubt I can master it as well as you!” He smiled and waved farewell as he set off through the busy market streets.

I smiled and leaned back in my chair. It was so relieving to get rid of that thing. Ever since I’d defeated the dragon it had given me strange nightmares and visions. I was excited to watch the pair fall victim to the stone in my ball because unlike the others, the wizard I’d brought it to was unable to decipher what it did. He could only tell me that it was evil enough to overcome any good, meek spell, like the gift counterspell. 

So yes. I could not wait to see what it would do to that boy and his sister. Whatever it was, I was hoping it would change them forever.

In Pilot West considers himself the most prepared rookie officer in the history of LAPD. He appears to have most penal codes and procedures memorized. His father Percy West is also the head of internal affairs in the LAPD. He is assigned to Lopez as his training officer and he initially struggles with firing his weapon as he is afraid of doing so. Lopez covers for him when Captain Anderson asks him why he didn’t fire his weapn as she doesn’t want to be blamed for his failure. In the switch West is assigned to Bradford who learns of his struggles when he freezes during a shootout. Bradford angrily confronts Lopez as she let him go on patrol with a broken rookie. Bradford later takes West to a man who has not left his apartment since a hate crime occurred against him and the man helps West overcome his fears. West later saves Bradford’s life during a shootout at a supermarket involving a several drug dealers impressing Bradford. In redwood West is estranged from his mother as she has never forgiven him for choosing the job over his family. In heartbreak he meets a nurse named Gino Brown with whom he later is shown in a relationship. They later break up in the shake up after having several disagreements. In caught stealing it’s obvious that West sticks to the letter of the law rather than the spirit Lopez schools him on them being more flexible. In manhunt a prisoner tells h Jackson that he knew Percy West years ago and that Percy messed with evidence in order to get the prisoner convicted. Jackson doesn’t believe him but when he confronts his father in homefront the latter says he did what had to do and Jackson rejects Percy’s excuses. In free fall West makes up with Percy as Percy sees how brave he was when he and Lopez cornered and killed terrorist Mitchell after Mitchell threatened to expose everyone on the bus to the deadly virus. In season two West received his score on the midterm exam and is dismayed to find it close to failing. As a result Grey tells West that he’ll still be supervised and subject to daily reports until grey is satisfied with his performance. This also means he will have to return to wearing long sleeves. In the night general West’s landlord is arrested on drug charges and West must find a new place to live in short order. After he’s endured a couple of undesirable options Chen comes to his rescue and they become roommates. In tough love West finally earns Grey’s trust after flipping a confidential informant from an FBI special agent. As a result West can now wear shot sleeves. In clean cut West is exposed to a unknown substance during a traffic stop and begins hallucinating which worries Lopez as the man they arrested had a prior conviction for possession of PCP. However after West and Lopez visit Grace Sawyer at Shaw Memorial she later tells him that he been exposed to a combination of horse vitamins and caffeine and had been experiencing the symptoms of being high due to an allergic reaction to the substance. With West finally good to go he receives a special award from the deputy chief along with Bradford. In breaking point West meets Sterling Freeman a male actor on a major procedural television show hot suspect which West is a fan of. Grey assigns West and Lopez to help with the show and to teach the actors proper police procedure. West and Freeman begin dating at the conclusion of the episode after falling for one another. In Now and Then West pretends to break up with Freeman due to Freeman’s celebrity status he is forced to do this because of an incident at a previous call. They are still together despite the public now believing that they had broken up. In Hand Off West solves a murder on his own after being stuck at the station because Lopez had gone to testify at the parole hearing of the man who nearly killed Sgt Grey. When Grey returns to the station that evening West is eager to tell him what had happened and Grey is impressed. In The Q Word is devastated following the death of Chris Rios because the two had been close friends. Chen later comforts him in their apartment and West becomes determined to find Rios’s killer he eventually arrests Serj Derian in The Hunt. In Consequences Lopez is promoted to detective which means that West will need a new training officer. In Justice West gets a new training officer for his last month as a rookie. The training officer Doug Stanton is blatant racist which prompts West to enlist help from Sergeant Grey to bring Stanton up on report. What seems to have a steady boyfriend in Sterling Freeman whom he meets in Breaking Points until West finds out Sterling Freeman been lying about his past in True Crime at which point West says they have gone their separate ways. In Lockdown West gets badly beaten by four suspects it is found later that his training officer Doug Stanton failed to come to West’s aid allowed him to get beaten while he remained in hiding. Stanton is then relieved of duty and headed for disciplinary action. He was later fired from the LAPD. In Amber West is promoted to Police Officer 2. In the episode Man of Honor he and Lucy Chen rode together while on patrol. In Triple Duty West was interviewed by Fiona Ryan Nolan’s college professor and gives his story on why he wants change in the police force because of his experience with Stanton. He was later dismayed to find Stanton was successful in appealing his termination and is reinstated in the LAPD albeit a demotion to Officer II and stripped of his FTO role and seniority while transferred to the Hollywood Division. West went to Ryan about this and she wanted him to go public with this but Grey convinced Hollywood Division’s Watch Commander Sergeant Stella Porter to show this bodycam footage to the division. As the video is being played the officers opinion of Stanton changed giving him looks of disbelief and disappointment. When Stanton tries to squeeze his way out a satisfied West assures him they now know his true colors. West later attends Angela and Wesley’s wedding but the ceremony is disrupted when Sandra de La Cruz men kidnap him and Lopez. In Life and Death the squad watch camera footage showing Jackson has been shot in the back and killed by one of Sandra de la Cruz men while trying to escape capture. However Jackson was able to scratch his assailant getting some of his DNA. Sergeant Grey then reveals the DNA was processed and matched. Grey later arrests Jackson’s killer Armando admitting that he would love to kill him in retribution for Jackson’s death. However he takes him into custody knowing Jackson wouldn’t approve. At the end of the episode Angela Lopez is seen at Jackson’s grave paying her respects and announcing that she named her newborn son after him. Jackson wasn’t mentioned throughout the rest of season four or appeared on any photos of him. Following his death Chen asks Tamara Colins to move into his old room as her roommate. While the both women have mixed feelings about the transition Chen still trying to come to terms with his fear and Tamara feeling that she erased his memory both agree that West would want something good to come out of his death if it meant Tamara was able to finally have a place to call home.

(this turned out to be set in the 20s because i’ve been so wrapped up in an incoming history test so i took inspiration from that 😭 i also added something similar to a crossroads demon from supernatural, so enjoy ig!)

Cindy, Susan, and Gordon are my absolute top priority. Always has been. Even when my husband, William, left us for the war a few years back, leaving us nothing but a couple of antique furniture he said to sell.

He always knew how to keep care of us, how to save money, how to spend it, but now we don’t even have him during what city folk call "The Great Depression". Our only source of income is the antiques he left behind, which I was able to start an antique shop from. The value of the antiques became so low, though, that I was only getting around a nickel per day. It was a ridiculous way to live, but everyone lived in desperate times now. I didn’t want this for my children. They deserve better.

Not only was my income getting dangerously low, but the shop itself started corroding. Slowly falling apart in every passing second. The paint peeling, pipes bursting, lights flickering, shelves falling, causing every single antique around or on top to break. I’m a person who always has a plan ahead, but I seriously had no clue how to recover from this.

Until he showed up.

At first I didn’t trust him, but after he mentioned his offer, a new building and guaranteed visitors, I couldn’t say no. All it cost me, he said, was my soul, whatever that means. But desperate times call for insanely suspicious desperate measures, I guess.

I proceeded with the offer and almost immediately I noticed the building slowly getting fixed, being repainted, shelves fixing themselves, even the lights had a nice new warm tone to them. The man worked true, breathtaking, magic. It was such a relief to see all of this, but what really took my breath away was the immediate cluster of people walking through the doors. How are all these people suddenly interested in my antiques? I didn’t bother asking, I was too busy enjoying myself in making sales. I turn to say thank you to the mysterious man but he already turned toward the doors. As he looked behind him to admire his work, though, I noticed, for a split second, his eyes turned black. I thought I was just imagining it, as I was still shook from the immediate change in the environment. But in a couple days time I realize that was not the case.

Yes, my antique shop has completly restored in its health, but my health was declining rapidly. At first it was a small fever, turned to coughing blood, and an inability to breathe properly. At some point along the way I slowly lost my vision too. I could barely get out of bed from how weak I was. I finally know what the mysterious man meant by my soul. He meant my existence itself. And now, i’m not worried about me personally, but about my children. I made the deal for them to live a long, healthy, life, but now they won’t have any parent to look out for them. They can run the shop, but who knows how long it’s going to take for the shop to break down again? Surely the mysterious man won’t keep his magic up for long after i’ve gone.

As i’m writing this now i’m realizing that i’ve made a grave mistake, but it’s too late now. Cindy, Susan, and Gordon, my babies, if your reading this, i’m so sorry. I wish this didn’t turn out the way it did.

For years Kehlani had worked in the same little knick knack shop. Time passed at a slow crawl most days.

The shop used to be much busier. Hell the island used to be much busier. Ever since the economic crisis people had stopped traveling, and that meant little tourist towns suffered. Now the once lively little bay city was quiet.

Every once in a while a local would wonder into the shop to see if there was anything new, but there never was.

Kehlani suspected that one such local had a thing for her. He came in like clockwork every Thursday when his delivery route brought him to the area. He would park his worn out, rusted delivery tricycle out front and explore the front of the shop, near the register, pickup up odds and ends turning them over in his hands. He made small talk and would ask her about her day, ask her about the weather, really just anything that came to his mind.

His name was Marcus, but he insisted on being called Mark. He wasnt bad to look at, the years of pedaling had kept him slim and fit. He had the prettiest blue eyes Kehlani had ever seen, and he was so sweet. Throughout his visits and all of the small talk he had learned much about her. He always had a small gift for her birthday and always asked about important events in her life.

Today was just like any other Thursday afternoon. Mark was perusing the shop making ifle chatter. Kehlani manned her station at the desk.

Then all of a sudden out of no where. A birght purple flash. The electric buzz of lightning as it tore through the sky. Then the whoosh of air and the rustling of pages as a huge gust of wind rushed through the storefront.

A man appears, drapped in a dark cloak from head to toe. Across his chest the cloak was fastened together with three brown learher belts with bright silver buckles. The top buckle was engraved with what Kehlani thought was a large snake, but upon closer inspection was just an engraving of a rope with frayed ends. His face was cast in darkness and no features were discernable amongst the shadows. Snake skinned boots came up to his middle calf and were dyed black to match the cloak. They too had brown leather belts and bright silver buckles that held them tight to his lower leg. His boots came to a sharp almost sinister point.

He demanded!

“Where is it? Where is the tome?”

Kehlani stood there. What had just happened? Where had he come from? What was going on?

The mysterious man spoke again.

“I don’t like to repeat myself. Where is the tome girl”

Mark moved forward between the man and Kehlani.

“She obviously doesnt know what you are talking about!”

The mans eyes darted from Kehlani, and locked onto Mark with deadly intent.

His hand raised and a bright red orb of energy began pulsing in his palm. He appeared to be talking but no words came from his mouth. Or at least no words Kehlani had ever heard.

He closed his eyes and began chanting these alien syllables louder. The orb in his hand pulsed harder and faster and began to grow. It began to throw off electrical arcs even though it appeared to be hot and fiery.

Just then a second flash of light, this time green. Another buzz rippled through the air, and another man appeared out of nowhere.

This second man was adorned with similar garb to the first visitor with one very noticable difference. The top buckle on his cloak, instead of being engrave with a piece of rope, was inlaid with three stones in a v-shaped pattern. One blue, one red, and the final one green.

Upon his appearance, the first man stopped speaking and lowered his had, no longer did the orb pulse in his palm. His stature and demeanor changed. He looked almost afraid. And as suddenly as he had shown up in the store front, he vanished.

Mark held his ground, putting himself between their new visitor and Kehlani.

Mystery man number two raised his hand.

Mark raised his fists.

The visitor reached up to the hood of his cloak and pulled it back, revealing a wisened old face.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” said the man. “I am Nostrand, and I am at your service.”

He bowed low andas he did his long white hair nearly touched the floor. When he stood he towered over Kehlani and Mark. His eyes were the most intese green eyes that Kehlani had ever seen. They looked kind.

Mark didnt move. He stood between Kehlani and this new patron.

“Nothing to worry about my good man. I am here to help. “

“ I don’t even know what he was talking about!!”, the words fell out from Kehlani’s mouth.

“Don’t worry my dear, i know what he was after, and i know where it is.”

Nostrand walked over to a stack of old books on a shelf. He reached up a pushed them out of the way.

Beyond them was a curious little wooden doll. It had been one of Kehlani’s favorite and she had stowed it there in hopes of one day being able to afford it.

Nostrand wrapped his fingers around the doll and removed it from the shelf.

“He said he was looking for a tome!” Mark stated. ”That isnt a tomb.”

“Your powers of observation are second to none,” chuckled Nostrand. “Watch”

Nostrand place the doll on the counter beside the register and positioned both hands above it. He too began to chant.

A strange blue glow emanated from the doll and it began to grow. Before they knew it, it had doubled in size, then tripled, until it reached the size of your average adult.

Nostrand lowered his hands and stopped chanting. He reached under the doll pressing a hidden button, and the now large wooden man’s chest fell forward, revealing a set of small drawers. In the top drawer Nostrand removed three small vials of some mysterious liquid that seemed to have a life of its own. He pocketed these and moved on to the second drawer.

Inside were several small instruments that looked like surgical tools. He pocketed these as well then turned toward Kehlani and Mark. This is what he was after. And he pulled up a panel from the bottom of the second drawer revealing a hidden compartment.

Inside lay a small leatherbound book emblazoned with the same markings as the first visitors top buckle.

“It’s a good thing he didnt get his hands on this, it is extremely powerful, and if possessed by someone of his nature, could end life as we know it!”

‘It holds time well. And it’s mechanical, so you’ll never have to worry about the power.’ James was a smart man, well-spoken and with an energy for every day.

‘I’m not sure about clocks.’

‘Well, what about this selection of treasures and trinkets?’ He gestured over a table of ornaments. His shop was off the beaten track; somewhere between the railway and the river, behind the orphanage, in front of the church.

‘I don’t much like any of these,’ she said, as she lifted one up to see if it had a price underneath.

‘Okay,’ he said, disheartened but trying to remain enthused. He knew he had to start making some sales soon or he’d have to close once and for all. ‘How about dolls? Collectible dolls.’

‘I do have a small collection of my own. They could always do with more friends,’ she said.

‘Follow me.’ He led her to a separate room that was filled with dolls. It was dimly lit, but she looked around in awe. He picked one off a shelf and handed it to her.

‘I was thinking of this one from the second we got in here,’ she said. She stroked the hair and held it at arm’s length from her. She admired how realistic it looked.

‘Imported last week,’ he said. ‘You’ll notice how soft the hair is.’

‘Yes! And the eyes are like diamonds. Look at how bright they are. How much is she?’

He told her the price, expecting forceful resistance.

‘I’ll take her,‘ she said.

He led the woman back into the main room of the shop. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, he knew he’d finally found a business venture that would work.

I sit behind the counter, flicking through the latest book my boss has found and decided to sell. He doesn’t let me use my phone, and I hate the feeling of staring at people until they buy something. So, I flick.

With the turn of the next page, a young man walks by. His curls bounce with every step and cover his eyes as he looks down at what’s below the counter. It’s see through, so sometimes it feels like people are looking at me. I cross my legs as his eyes get near them. “I’m not- I just really like antiques”, curly said. “Oh…. Of course. I wasn’t- do you need anything?” He looked at me slightly puzzled. “Need?” He said. “Or… want… would like-uh-“ I stumbled. He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever really needed anything”. His confidence was palpable. His smile? Hot. I was crushing on a man I had met 20 seconds ago, but trying to play it cool. He seemed worldly. Maybe even spiritual. He could be a philosopher… or just really emotionally intelligent. Either way I wanted to know this man, but was too shy to say anything. He glided to the back of the shop. Was this man walking on air or am I imagining it. Must wipe drool from chin. “I’m here if you need-uh, want anything”… He smirked and continued shopping. I’m an idiot. He came back to the front counter and thanked me for my time.

And that’s it…. He didn’t fall in love with me or anything, and it wasn’t that weird. Just… nice to feel butterflies I guess.

As a young woman, I wanted to enter the world of antiques. In this as in many specialisms, a practitioner gains success through hard work and luck. I had plenty of the former and, up to now, none of the latter.

By the age of twenty, I had served my apprenticeship, if you will, at dealers first in Margate, then in London. But in five short years, my mother became an invalid, and being the only child I returned home to Kent to care for her. I managed to eke out a living for us both by opening a small antique shop off the high street. My luck further ebbed away as I discovered that the local clientele traded only in bric-a-brac.

There were some pieces in the £500 plus price range, but these were for display to entice customers who might look in the windows. I hoped to make a killing one day - buying an unknown Gainsborough for a song maybe. I had the eye to spot one. There were occasions when my day was brightened: the old woman with a house clearance box which contained a trove of Clarice Cliff pottery but I couldn’t help myself, selling it at auction and delivering a good return to her for a tiny commission, which I waived.

I knew my stock too, spending endless hours in the shop without a single customer. The stock and I began to look disheveled, destined to stay on the shelf. I would have opportunistic dealers visit the shop too. This was a normal but bittersweet practice. Andrew Law was my favourite of these: successful, honest enough and entertaining. He would tell business tales over tea and biscuits. I would learn about the arrest of Pine Valley John for passing off some “Gillow’s” furniture as the Real McCoy, or how “business was good/business was bad”. Then Andrew would spend £5 on a token piece, wave, and leave me in the silence. The money had gone now. Mum was deteriorating and she was wearing me out. My depression was all consuming but I had to try something soon.

The next time Andrew showed up, I opened up to him as I was preparing builder’s tea and Hobnobs. He was now aware of our unhappy state and sympathetic.

“Can you sell this for me Andrew?” I asked. In my open palms I held a Victorian jeweller’s case. Inside was a weighty diamond and emerald necklace with matching earrings. He sighed, “Not much demand for this, you know. Unlucky are emeralds - worse than that, they’ve unfashionable. Where did you get this?”

I explained, “They’re great-grandma’s, well mother’s technically. She needs to sell them so we can pay for a care home.” Jewellery was not my thing, but I trusted Andrew. “Let’s make a couple of calls.” he said.

He dialled a number, put his phone on speaker. It became clear that I was only going to get two or maybe three thousand for the jewels. Ten years ago it could well have been eight thousand. In either case, that sort of money would only last a very short while. I sobbed.

He put his arm round my shoulder tentatively. “You should have told me before.” he said, “listen -“, producing his cheque book, “the auctioneers are wrong.” He wrote a cheque for £10,000. I sobbed some more and he began to snivel, wiping his nose on a hankie.

“No arguments! Ten. And I’ll be round next week to see how we can dig you out of this.”

The next week, Mum was waiting for a place in care - the council was able to assist more than we thought- and she would be rehomed soon. I waited for Andrew to call in. He appeared, not in his usual Harris Tweed suit but in overalls, his sleeves rolled up. Together, we appraised my stock. “3s and 6d for the whole lot!” he joked. By the end of the day we had a list, a triage if you wish, 3 categories: items for the auctions, items for charity, and largest of all, items for the tip. I felt so empowered. The sun was appearing on the horizon.

Andrew stayed over at the hotel. Next morning a skip arrived and the two of us filled it with ‘stock’. He took me for lunch and produced a letter: it was a property valuation of the shop. £700,000. I was embarrassed, “I can’t sell it Andrew! What else would I do?”

“I have a plan. Demographics have improved round here and I need to expand my business, maybe put a coffee shop in the front too. I’ll buy it and I’ll need a manager. We just need to agree on how much we pay you. And you get the final say on how it’s all run.”

My luck HAD changed. I agreed wholeheartedly to make my most important sale.

"So, he just came in here and bought those dolls. That's it? He had no hesitation. Like he legit came in here with the intention of buying them?" Janina asked. She couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Margie nodded, "Yep. He came in, grabbed a cart, and headed straight for them. He picked each one up...carefully, I might add, and put all three in the cart, then came up and bought them."

Janina's mouth fell agape as she leaned against the cash register, "Those things have been here for decades. I think they've been here since before you were born. I've been telling dad to get rid of them for years."

"Ummhmm. And I sold them." Said Margie with a grin from ear to ear.

Janina rolled her eyes, "Okay, pump the breaks. You didn't sell anything, the guy came in here and just bought them you didn't do any sales."

"Don't take this away from me," Margie snapped, as she returned her attention to organizing the candy and gum display.

"What did he look like?" Janina asked.

Margie shrugged, "Like a normal man? Why does that matter?"

"Well, I don't know. Was he young? Was he old? Did he look normal? Did he come off like a crazy person?"

Margie scoffed, "He was just a man. Why would that matter?"

"It doesn't. I'm not saying that it does. I'm just saying that those dolls were creepy as hell. Seriously, people would either walk by them and ignore them on purpose, or they'd glance down at them and give them that weird look of disgust where their lips curl upward."

That made Margie chuckle to the point where she almost dropped a packet of gum, "I don't know. Maybe he's some weird collector. Or maybe he's one of those guys who has a YouTube channel where he makes ugly things pretty again."

Janina made her way around the counter and began organizing the racks of used clothing, "Well, that's why I asked what he looked like. If he's mom or dad's age I doubt he's running a YouTube channel."

"I don't know, he was just an older guy. He was probably a few years younger than dad if anything. Just some normal-looking middle-aged man who bought those dolls." Margie said as she joined Janina at the clothes rack.

Janina shrugged and shook her head, "That's still so weird though. Those things were so ugly, they creeped me out for as long as I can remember."

Margie nodded, "Same. I avoided that corner of the store for the longest time. The thing that creeped me out the most was the fact that they were child-sized."

Janina laughed, "Yep, I always thought they'd come to life and just chase us around the store when it came to closing. I still do...or did."

"Yeah, it also didn't help that all three of them had those creepy, lifeless eyes and that their hair was all patchy and dry, the paint was chipped on every single one of them," Margie said.

Janina smiled, "Well I'm glad they're gone. Good job on your sale." Her fingers did the air quotes gesture with "sale."

"Whatever," said Margie with an eye roll. "You want to close down early? We haven't had someone come in here since that weirdo who bought the dolls and that was hours ago."

Janina hesitated, it was an idea that had been on her mind the entire night. They had an hour until their official closing time...would they get another customer on a random Wednesday night?

Probably not.

"Come on Janina, it's not like mom and dad are going to know or care, they're on vacation. Let's close shop, get some Jack in the Box, and rent a movie...what do you say?" Margie pleaded.

Janina thought it over for a split second and nodded her head. Fattening food and a crappy horror movie for the night sounded incredible. "Alright, clear the register and I'll start locking up."

Janina was making her way to the far right corner of their parent's antique store when she noticed the person sitting on the shelf. On the same shelf where the three dolls were earlier that morning, the ones that Margie had allegedly sold. She knew that it wasn't a doll, because its feet were moving back and forth along the store's tiles, going from left to right on its heels.

She'd just turned out all the lights and at that moment she'd wished she kept them on, someone had made it into their store after she'd locked up, Janina was sure of it. Her mouth ran dry as she struggled to find the words to say.

And then the person stood up.

He stood but a few feet from her, shrouded in the darkness of the store, and at that moment Janina knew that it was one of the dolls that Margie had sold. She recognized the aged overalls, and the filthy little sneakers on its feet. Janina could feel its eyes on her as it took a single step forward. Janina struggled to move but she was paralyzed by fear, her brain was screaming for her to run in the other direction but her legs wouldn't budge.

And then he took a few more steps toward her and all Janina wanted to do was scream.

It was one of the dolls that Margie had sold, only it wasn't. He didn't look much like a doll at all, it was the human skin that sent Janina's brain into a frenzy. He looked like a little human boy, but he still had the glossy and lifeless eyes of a doll. His skin was void of any imperfections, no pimples, no scars or birthmarks, nothing...and that's what scared her the most.

Janina screamed, it was all she could do as the paralysis that consumed her body lifted. She spun around on the heels of her feet and ran in the opposite direction. She could hear the doll's sneakers on the tiles, and then she felt a force drive her to the floor. Janina collapsed forward, her mouth slamming into the tiles, blood shooting out onto the antique furniture to her right. She screamed and struggled, throwing her elbows behind her as the doll climbed up her back, wrapping its tiny hands around her throat. She gagged and coughed, spraying her blood onto the tiles, her world threatening to cut to black.

She was screaming so loud that her lungs burned, and she didn't even hear Margie running up to her. Margie screamed with all her might as she swung her right foot into the doll's face, sending him pinwheeling across the store before crashlanding onto the tiles.

"Oh my god! What was that thing?!" Howled Janina as Margie helped her to her feet.

Margie frantically shook her head, "I have no fucking idea. But I think the other two are in the store as well. I saw them from the corner of my eyes as I was coming to help you."

Janina watched in horror as the doll that attacked her got to its feet. It stood there for a split second and ran toward them. Janina wrapped her hand around Margie's wrist and the two sisters darted toward the store's entrance. She could see the girl doll to their left, running in their direction, heels clicking on the tiles as she cut through the aisles with a haunting finesse, her prosthetic hair creating a wavy trail behind her.

Margie screamed, and Janina turned to her right to see the other boy doll, the one dressed like a 1900s paper boy. He was charging toward them, his lifeless eyes locked onto Margie. Janina shot a blind hand to her left, reaching for something...anything that could be used as a weapon. Her hand wrapped around a metal lamp, she snatched it from the table it was on and swung it over Margie's head as the paper boy soared through the sky in their direction. The lamp connected, and she could hear a sickening pop as the doll soared through the sky and into a dresser.

"We have to go!" Screamed Margie.

Janina grabbed Margie's wrist and the two girls sprang for the front doors as the boy in overalls and the girl continued to run toward them. Janina drove her shoulder into the front door with such force that it sent a ripple of pain through her left arm, a pain she had to ignore. The two girls ran for her car, she unlocked it with the fob and the two girls threw themselves into their seats.

"Hurry!" Screamed Margie as Janina fumbled with getting the key into the ignition. Why was it so difficult? What was going on? How was any of this possible?

She slid the key into the ignition and fired up the engine and then she heard the glass shatter to her left. Janina turned and watched with sheer horror as the girl doll shoved her face through the glass, the sharp blades cutting across her bizarre skin. There was no blood, but her eyes blinked rapidly as if registering some form of pain. She continued to press her face through the window as the glass turned her cheeks into ribbons.

"Drive Janina! Drive!!" Screamed Margie.

Janina put the car in drive and slammed her foot on the gas as the girl doll continued to push herself through the glass toward her. Her car crashed over a planter, as Janina cut through the parking lot. Margie lunged forward, ejecting the cigarette lighter from its holster, she threw herself over Janina, thrusting the lighter into the doll's right eye. They didn't hear a scream, but she knew she'd inflicted some kind of damage because it released its grip on the car and crashed onto the asphalt.

Janina cut onto the main road on screeching tires as engine smoke flurried around them and burnt rubber consumed their senses. Leaving the three Human Dolls in their rearview mirror as they sped off into the night.

This cold rainy morning Bernard had already welcomed three new customers to the secondhand shop. The drizzle’s soft shush above cluttered attics was more lure than most treasure hunters and gatherers could resist. Such weather nearly always guaranteed he would meet new visitors before the clouds retreated.

At precisely 11 am, the door clanged open again and a small elderly woman shuffled in, clutching her tapestry bag close to her damp woolen coat. Her wispy white hair was tucked into a bun beneath a fitted felt hat, and her pale, thin wrinkles framed blue eyes that shone with a light brighter than her age hinted.

“Mr. Harbor, I presume?” she addressed him in a soft, steady voice. Bernard nodded in reply from behind the counter. “At your service, ma’am.” “The dolls there on the top shelf,” she nodded toward the characters, eyeing their detailed painted faces and ornate clothes. Bernard turned to look at the collection, though he knew exactly the ones she meant. “Where are they from?” she asked. “Well there’s a bit o’ mystery behind those. A young woman brought ‘em in about a year ago, and said they were from her deceased uncle’s mansion near Essex. She didn’t give any details, except that they were from a French court and that they should fetch us a good earning. “ He didn’t mention that the odd-faced collectibles had gathered more dust than attention the past year, with their crooked grins, jester hats, and steady gazes. “How much?” she asked. Bernard fumbled with the doll closest to the edge. He read the water-stained tag aloud: “$325.”

“I’ll take all of them,” she said quickly.

Working Lurking Searching Finding Winding Lying Trying Minding Wondering Dreaming Feeling Reeling Stealing Hoping Coping Selling Telling Overwhelming Today Not may To play Too cold Very old Now sold Tessa🦋