STORY LOOP FURRY PORN GAMES C SERVICES [?] [R] RND POPULAR | Archived flashes: 229595 |
/disc/ · /res/ — /show/ · /fap/ · /gg/ · /swf/ | P0001 · P2595 · P5190 |
This is the info page for Flash #66410 |
0% |
Loading |
Ready... |
Ready... |
Dancing Yak Productions present |
A tale from the old country interpreted by Dr. Ashen |
Леди куклы |
The Doll Lady |
Our village was small, and we were not wealthy. We had fresh water, and we had enough to eat, but we did not have much else. We, the boys, had a few wooden toys - carts, horses and soldiers carved for us by our fathers. But my sister, and every other girl, had a beautiful doll. Iskra made sure of it. Iskra's husband had been a farmer, and the wealthiest man in the village until his heart gave out. Iskra had never given birth, but she loved the children of the village as if they were her own. On each girl's sixth birthday, Iskra would present them with a beautiful doll. The dolls were of the best quality, purchased from a far away town, and she lovingly made the clothes herself. The girls loved their dolls, and they loved Iskra. It had been that way for many years. But it was not to stay that way. |
On her sixth birthday, little Klavdiya received her doll. It had a green dress and big glass eyes, and she took it with her everywhere as most of the girls did. Scarcely a week after her birthday, we were playing in the fields when Klavdiya collapsed. We carried her back to her parents as fast as we could. The doctor came and said she had a powerful and dangerous fever. He was not wrong, for within a few days the fever claimed her life. Before the news of her death broke, Klavdiya's mother ran up to Iskra's house and hurled the doll at the door. She screamed and wailed and shrieked - she said that it was the doll that made her daughter ill, that Iskra had put a wicked curse on it. Iskra opened the door and cried herself, she was so upset at the accusation. Klavdiya's mother was led away by her husband. All the village agreed that she was overcome by grief and had taken out her feelings on Iskra. There were no curses and Iskra meant no harm - such foolishness was peasant talk, and we children were not to repeat it. But I noticed that some of the adults were less friendly towards Iskra from then on, despite what they said to us. |
A few months passed and my sister Nika's sixth birthday approached. Iskra was not seen for a few days, and when my sister's birthday came we knew why. Iskra presented her with the most beautiful doll I had ever seen. It had huge blue eyes and she had made an elaborate blue gown for it. It seemed as if Iskra wanted to show that she was a good person, to dissolve the fears of the village. This doll, that she had spent so much time and effort on, was her way of proving it. My sister Nika died of fever exactly two weeks after her sixth birthday. My father nearly went mad with grief. For two full days he sat indoors, just holding Nika's doll and weeping. Then he went to see Iskra. It was like watching Klavdiya's mother all over again. He shrieked and he swore and he spat. He smashed the doll against Iskra's door and screamed that she was a witch, that she had cursed the dolls and made Nika die. Iskra wept and tried to protest her innocence. It fell on deaf ears. After a few minutes my father was dragged away by the doctor, and Iskra went back into her house just as before. This time, however, it did not end there. |
One by one the villagers came and put the dolls Iskra had given them on her doorstep. I remember seeing them all in a pile - twenty year's worth of gifts, all given back. We never saw Iskra take them, but they were gone the next day. Iskra was never seen to leave her house again. I sometimes caught sight of her face in a window as she stared at the children playing. Her face had become pale and gaunt, and her eyes wide and red. She looked the very embodiment of madness. Eventually we saw her face no more, and Iskra was all but forgotten. The years passed and I left the village. I sometimes thought of Iskra, with her staring red eyes, and felt sorry for her. I never really believed that she had hurt anyone. I thought it was all coincidence, and that she had been unfairly accused by superstitious townsfolk searching for a scapegoat. I still believe that. One summer I received a letter from my father. The village well had dried up, and the remaining people were abandoning the village to move to a nearby town. I went back to help my father move his things, and to see the village for one last time. As we packed the last belongings onto the cart, I looked over at Iskra's house. It had holes in the roof and the windows were broken. I asked my father what had become of Iskra - he said he did not know, and he did not care. She had not been seen since I had watched her staring from the window all those years ago. |
Was Iskra dead? Did her body remain in her house, unburied? Nobody knew. I felt a strange sense of sadness and loss. And even though the sun was setting and the light was fading, I set off towards Iskra's house. My father called for me to stop, that there was no point in going inside. I did not listen. I had to know what had happened to Iskra, perhaps even bury her remains if necessary. I felt in some way responsible, as if I should have spoken up in her defence when she was accused of causing the fever. But who would have listened to me back then? The door to Iskra's house opened with a firm push. It was quite dark inside. I could make out a layer of dust and cobwebs covering everything. There was a faint smell of rotting meat. But besides some chairs and a stove, there was nothing of interest downstairs. The smell became stronger as I climbed the stairs. I began to feel scared as I approached Iskra's dust covered bed. This was almost certainly where her remains were. She had fallen ill and died in bed, just as Klavdiya and Nika had done. I knew it. |
But as I approached the bed, it became obvious that it was empty. The sheets were still folded neatly on top. There was no sign of Iskra. Perhaps she had left the village, sneaked out one night when nobody was watching? I turned to go back downstairs when I noticed the ladder to the attic. I looked up and could see the trapdoor was closed. I tested the ladder, which was still strong, and climbed up. The trapdoor opened easily. The smell was much worse here. The remains of daylight were shining through the hole in the roof, and as I looked around my heart jumped - I could make out small faces, dotted around the attic! But after a moment I realised that they, of course, belonged to dolls. All the dolls that Iskra had ever given away were here. As I walked into the room, I could see them clearly. The years had not been kind to them - they were cracked and damaged, their dresses stained by the rain. I was beginning to become scared. I took a few more steps into the room, and saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I turned and there was nothing there. I took a step further and it happened again. Then I thought I heard a whispered voice, and became very frightened. I decided to leave the house and go back to my father. |
I turned back towards the ladder and Iskra was standing in front of me, a rotting corpse with wide, staring red eyes. She screamed in my face, an unearthly screech that shook me the core. I screamed too and scrambled past her, down the ladder, down the stairs and out of the door. As I ran from the house I could hear a screeching, giggling laugh. I ran back to the cart and my father, nearly choking from fear. We left the village immediately, and did not look back. I was still shaking an hour later. I could still smell her an hour after that. This text is utterly irrelevant - it has been placed here merely to make the page appear similar to the others, and has nothing to do with the actual story. Anyway, what's the weather like where you are? It's overcast here, fairly warm but keeps raining on and off. Hope it stays fairly sunny tomorrow, I have to travel a fair way. Oh come on - she must have screamed by now... |
I ran back to the cart and my father, nearly choking from fear. We left the village immediately, and did not look back. I was still shaking an hour later. I could still smell her an hour after that. I told my father what I saw. He said that it was Iskra's punishment for killing the children - to be trapped between life and death. I remain unconvinced. I heard the mad laughter that came from her dessicated skull. I wonder if, driven mad by the false accusations, she had cheated death in order to someday wreak revenge on those that had wronged her? Or perhaps I am being as paranoid and foolish as those who accused her of giving away cursed toys all those years ago... All I know for sure is what I saw with my own eyes - a creature that should have been long dead, but was very much alive. I don't let my daughter play with dolls. |
www.ashens.com |
www.ashens.com |
Dedicated to Torgo |
"The Master will be pleased!" |
Replay? |
Replay? |
ActionScript [AS1/AS2]
Frame 1stop();Frame 22stop();Frame 23stopAllSounds();Frame 405stop();Frame 571stop();Frame 716stop();Frame 795stop();Frame 974stop();Frame 1185stop();Frame 1315stopAllSounds();Frame 1357gotoAndPlay (1358);Frame 1436stop();Frame 1530stop(); stop();Symbol 6 MovieClip Frame 1if (!_load019D2EA0) { _load019D2EA0 = 1; tellTarget ("..") { p = int(((100 * getBytesLoaded()) / getBytesTotal()) + 0.5); percent = p add "%"; epitome._alpha = p; if (p >= 100) { play(); gotoAndPlay ("Ready"); } }; } nextFrame(); play();Symbol 6 MovieClip Frame 3tellTarget ("..") { p = int(((100 * getBytesLoaded()) / getBytesTotal()) + 0.5); percent = p add "%"; epitome._alpha = p; if (p >= 100) { play(); gotoAndPlay ("Ready"); } }; gotoAndPlay (2);Symbol 15 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("Introduction"); }Symbol 30 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("Part_2"); }Symbol 34 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("Part_3"); }Symbol 40 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("Part_4"); }Symbol 45 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("Part_5"); }Symbol 49 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("Part_6"); }Symbol 55 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("Scream"); }Symbol 66 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("End"); }Symbol 70 Buttonon (press) { getURL ("http://www.ashens.com", "_blank"); }Symbol 79 Buttonon (press) { gotoAndPlay ("Introduction"); }
Library Items
Symbol 1 Font | Used by:8 12 13 16 18 19 76 77 | |
Symbol 2 Font | Used by:7 | |
Symbol 3 Font | Used by:17 67 68 | |
Symbol 4 Font | Used by:27 33 39 44 48 54 59 65 71 | |
Symbol 5 Font | Used by:74 | |
Symbol 6 MovieClip | Used by:Timeline | |
Symbol 7 EditableText | Uses:2 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 8 Text | Uses:1 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 10 Bitmap | Used by:9 | |
Symbol 9 Graphic | Uses:10 | Used by:11 Timeline |
Symbol 11 MovieClip | Uses:9 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 12 Text | Uses:1 | Used by:15 |
Symbol 13 Text | Uses:1 | Used by:15 |
Symbol 14 Graphic | Used by:15 | |
Symbol 15 Button | Uses:12 13 14 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 16 Text | Uses:1 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 17 Text | Uses:3 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 18 Text | Uses:1 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 19 Text | Uses:1 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 21 Bitmap | Used by:20 | |
Symbol 20 Graphic | Uses:21 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 23 Bitmap | Used by:22 | |
Symbol 22 Graphic | Uses:23 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 24 Sound | Used by:Timeline | |
Symbol 26 Bitmap | Used by:25 | |
Symbol 25 Graphic | Uses:26 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 27 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 29 Bitmap | Used by:28 | |
Symbol 28 Graphic | Uses:29 | Used by:30 34 40 45 49 55 60 66 |
Symbol 30 Button | Uses:28 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 32 Bitmap | Used by:31 | |
Symbol 31 Graphic | Uses:32 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 33 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 34 Button | Uses:28 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 36 Bitmap | Used by:35 | |
Symbol 35 Graphic | Uses:36 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 38 Bitmap | Used by:37 | |
Symbol 37 Graphic | Uses:38 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 39 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 40 Button | Uses:28 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 41 Sound | Used by:Timeline | |
Symbol 43 Bitmap | Used by:42 | |
Symbol 42 Graphic | Uses:43 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 44 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 45 Button | Uses:28 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 47 Bitmap | Used by:46 | |
Symbol 46 Graphic | Uses:47 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 48 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 49 Button | Uses:28 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 51 Bitmap | Used by:50 | |
Symbol 50 Graphic | Uses:51 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 53 Bitmap | Used by:52 | |
Symbol 52 Graphic | Uses:53 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 54 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 55 Button | Uses:28 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 56 Sound | Used by:Timeline | |
Symbol 58 Bitmap | Used by:57 | |
Symbol 57 Graphic | Uses:58 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 59 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 60 Button | Uses:28 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 61 Sound | Used by:Timeline | |
Symbol 63 Bitmap | Used by:62 | |
Symbol 62 Graphic | Uses:63 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 64 Sound | Used by:Timeline | |
Symbol 65 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 66 Button | Uses:28 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 67 Text | Uses:3 | Used by:70 |
Symbol 68 Text | Uses:3 | Used by:70 |
Symbol 69 Graphic | Used by:70 | |
Symbol 70 Button | Uses:67 68 69 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 71 Text | Uses:4 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 73 Bitmap | Used by:72 | |
Symbol 72 Graphic | Uses:73 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 74 Text | Uses:5 | Used by:Timeline |
Symbol 75 Sound | Used by:Timeline | |
Symbol 76 Text | Uses:1 | Used by:79 |
Symbol 77 Text | Uses:1 | Used by:79 |
Symbol 78 Graphic | Used by:79 | |
Symbol 79 Button | Uses:76 77 78 | Used by:Timeline |
Instance Names
"percent_txt" | Frame 1 | Symbol 7 EditableText |
"epitome" | Frame 1 | Symbol 11 MovieClip |
"Readybutton" | Frame 12 | Symbol 15 Button |
Special Tags
PathsArePostScript (25) | Timeline Frame 1 | 0 bytes "" |
Dynamic Text Variables
percent | Symbol 7 EditableText | "0%" |
|