Prologue

Everyone knows that the first thing you experience is awareness. You may not know what you are, you may not know your purpose but you know you are you, without a shadow of a doubt.

Little Nell knew her name, but not much else, as an annoying sensation tried to tear her from her slumber. A tickle that just wouldn't go away, like a wisp of hair brushing her cheek in the breeze. It stopped and she began to drift, only for it to return. Slowly she opened her eyes and tried to stare through the darkness that surrounded her.

Nell pushed herself up onto uncoordinated elbows and slowly reached to rub the offending tickle away. The sound of coarse fabric rubbing together filled the air. She stifled a surprised cry, both sounds echoing into the darkness. Her hands. They were different. She didn't know what they were supposed to look like, but this was most definitely not it.

Turning her hands over and over, she examined them in the poor light, staring with childlike fascination. They were edged in worn brown stitching and what looked to be stuffing poked out from a small hole on the back of her left hand. Raising the hand to her face again, she heard the same rustling sound. Pushing down the panic and fear growing inside of her, she began to explore her face. Her eyes felt like large round buttons, the old fashioned type with a wide rim and four holes in the centre. Her cheeks were soft and squidgy to touch, and they were getting wetter by the minute as the tears she couldn't hold back fell from her button eyes.

Resting her forehead in her hands, she took in the rest of herself. Her clothes were torn and dirty, the orange top long past its best, the blue skirt barely held together and so thread bare she could see her legs through it. Her legs felt wrong, yet they matched the arms that were now her own.

Her brain started to connect the dots and if she hadn't been sitting the realisation that hit her then would have knocked her to the floor. She was a rag doll. The gasp she let out created a plume of frost in the chilled night air.
Confused and frightened, she began to look past herself to the dark forest she was sat in. The trees were strange twisted things, towering beasts contorted into terrifying shapes that looked as dead as the ground beneath them. The shadows cast by them seemed to have a life of their own, as the wind moved through the leafless branches.

A cry broke the silence that surrounded the ragdoll. It was a deep hungry sound that sent shivers down her spine.

In a heartbeat she was on her feet, and in a lurching motion that lacked any form of style or grace, she ran as hard, and as fast, as her little cloth legs would carry her. She ran blindly through the woods, branches reached for her, snagging her clothes and skin alike. She ran, one foot in front of the other, only changing direction when something blocked her way.

As she rounded a large tree her cloth legs finally gave out on her. Tumbling forward she landed with a thump on the hard packed dirt. Nell began to cry. Everything hurt from her head to her toes, so much so that she forgot the reason she was running.

The seconds ticked by and the tears gradually stopped. The cold began to seep into the very fabric of poor little Nell. This more than anything caused her to start moving again. If there was one thing she hated above all others it was being cold.

Rising on shaky legs, she brushed herself off and checked to see if she had hurt herself. There were a few snags in her cloth-skin here and there, and if she thought her clothes were ragged before she didn't know how to describe them now. The most serious wound was the one to her pride. With a nod and a sigh she looked up and her jaw almost hit the floor. There, in front of her, stood a house.




By Little_Nell

Or at least she thought it was a house. It had no bricks or mortar, no logs or shingles upon its roof. The moonlight seeming to play tricks as it reflected off the surface. As Nell drew closer she realised it was no trick of the light. It appeared alive, as if it were a living, breathing, entity. The walls themselves flesh, and to her horror that flesh housed eyes too numerous to count. All focused on the little ragdolls every move.

The sight made her sick but she could not tear her eyes away. They were caught upon a window, one of many that sat amongst the flesh. The bone framed window was as gruesome as the rest of the house but that was not what caught her attention. In every window the face of a doll or bear could be seen.

Nell was so entranced, she didn't see the door open. A deep rumble that started in her toes and finally reached her ears made her squeak and jump back in fright. It called to her. Knew her name. Beckoning her inside with its deep, rumbling voice.

She stepped closer to the gaping maw, and with a deep breath she hoped would calm her nerves, took one last glance at the windows and saw sorrow and fear in almost every one. One window, however, held a pink bear. His eyes glinting, a smile graced his lips. Waving, he invited her in.

She looked again at the houses mouth and shuddered, before slowly stepping inside.

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