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A Halloween Tale.swf

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Flash #66410

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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]

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http://swfchan.com/14/66410/info.shtml
Created: 12/4 -2019 01:52:31 Last modified: 12/4 -2019 01:52:31 Server time: 09/05 -2024 05:54:51