Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Satan's Toybox: Demonic Dolls
Satan's Toybox: Demonic Dolls
There is a new anthology in town and it has attitude. Satan’s Toybox: Demonic Dolls, published by Angelic Knight Press, is an anthology that has some fantastic authors in it. The very fact that I am in there astounds me, because I am in awe of these authors and the book’s cover is amazing.
In fact, let’s start there, with the cover.
Rebecca Treadway is the artist and I have always been impressed with her work. She designed the cover to my short story, Sam, as well as doing work for several other authors I know. When anyone asks if I know a cover artist, Rebecca's name is the first on my lips, and is it any wonder why. Everyone knows that the cover can sell a book. So take a look at this cover. I know it makes you want to open it up and see what is inside.
When you do open Satan’s Toybox, a dangerous thing to do, you will find dolls. But these aren’t your ordinary, tea sipping, diaper changing, thumb sucking dolls. These dolls will tear your limbs off, if given half the chance.
I don’t have room to showcase all the authors. I wish I did. They are all excellent stories. For instance, Scott Goriscak wrote a tale called Playing With Dolls. Seriously demented people and if you don’t believe me, here is an excerpt.
He jumped the hedge and killed the unsuspecting neighbor’s wife as she barbecued on her patio. She had been skewered through the head face down on the grate still cooking when the police reached her. Her husband was returning from retrieving the mail when my father slashed his abdomen, releasing his innards to fall to the asphalt. -From "Playing with Dolls" by Scott M. Goriscak
"His first taste was unknown, but the more he shredded, clawed and chomped, the more he came to like it, and the more he came to like it, the more he delighted in his destruction of the doll his Master called Barbie." Excerpt from, Mr. Jingle, by T.K. Millin.
“Rach, Rach what is it?” Instead of her usual sobs about her father, Rachel stopped screaming and hid her face.
“The girl! The girl. She was mean. She told me I had to give her Annabelle.”
Karen relaxed. A nightmare, but at least a normal one. She was so relieved that she let Rachel continue to hold the doll. She stroked Rachel’s back. “There’s no one there sweetheart. There’s no little girl. You’re the only little girl in this house.”
Rachel raised her head and looked up at Karen. “No Mommy, there is. I sawed her. I sawed her in the corner tonight and I sawed her in the window when we moved here. There is another girl and she doesn’t want me to play with Annabelle.” Soul Collector by Stacey Turner
Lisa McCourt Hollar *hee hee*
"I don't want to do it," Nicki whimpered. She bit her lower lip, trying to keep from trembling. "Please don't make me." Suzie just stared at her, her blue eyes eyes unblinking and unrelenting. Nicki went to her bed and reached under the mattress, retrieving the hidden secret that was just between her and Suzie. The knife was her mother's favorite cutting knife and she'd been upset when it came up missing. She'd looked for it everywhere...everywhere except under her six year old daughter's mattress. Nicki pulled back the sleeve that was covering her arm, putting the sharp edge of the knife to her skin. - From Blood Lust by Lisa McCourt Hollar
"As he rounded the furthest corner of the room, he spied a display case that had been blocked from view from the other side. Unlike the rest of the goods squirreled away inside the secret room, there was no pretense of decorum to mar the beauty that filled his vision. He felt his breath catch in his lungs, his tongue drying thick in his mouth." Illicit Dreams - Tim Marquitz
"'Adeline...' She told me her name, whispered it in my ear as I slept. Her tiny porcelain fingers closed around my little finger, gently squeezing her reassurance."
'Adeline' by Marissa Farrar
"The child screams and Mommy runs in.
“Oh my God! You’re bleeding!”
But the child is more than bleeding and it takes Mommy a few seconds to see half of her daughter’s jaw is missing. What about the doll? The doll is grinning and shoveling more gore- encrusted flesh into her mouth.
Mommy reaches for the doll, to tear it apart, but the doll hisses and Mommy falls back and hits her head on the night table. The last thing Mommy hears in this world is not the hiss, it’s the giggling. Well perhaps not giggling, it’s more like maniacal laughter..."
Carole Gill - The Devil's Work
The house was old and it was not pretty. Not anymore. It had been, once upon a time, but now it had warped doors and cracked windows. It had peeling wallpaper and mould on the ceilings. And its inhabitant was dusty and a little bit broken; a lost leg here, a missing eye there. But the old and ugly dolls’ house was patient. It was very patient. And it was almost time. Mr. Doll said so.
“What are you doing in there?” Steve called out to her.
Box in hand, Mary walked back into the bedroom. “Needed to get something for Sophie. Some old worry dolls so she can sleep.”
“What the hell’s that?”
“Just a little Mexican superstition. If I’m right, it may buy us a couple nights worth of peace and quiet.”
Mary made her way back to her daughter’s room. “Here.” She took a seat on the edge of the twin bed. “Let me show you what to do.”
But before she could explain how the dolls worked, her daughter quickly took the intricate handmade box from her hands. Mary watched as her daughter delicately pulled the dolls out of the box. There were six dolls in all and each was made from tiny wooden match sticks with what used to be brightly colored thread, faded now by time, wrapped around the little stick figure. Now I lay Me Down To Sleep by Claudia Lefeve
“You all right in there, sugar?” asked a brunette in Capri pants and a low cut short-sleeved cardigan. Her face was plastered in makeup that would’ve repulsed even Jayne Mansfield and she wore her dark brown hair in a beehive, which Stockton thought made her look ridiculous.
“What… I mean, yes. I’m fine.”
“Well, ask and ye shall receive,” whispered Elizabeth.
“I’m sorry to be nosey and all especially what with you being a cop and me being, well, here but…” The woman looked at the doll case and then at Stockton. “I’m sorry, hon, but were you talking to this here doll?”
“No, no. No, I wasn’t. I was just thinking aloud. My wife and I had a disagreement this morning. I was kind of replaying it all in my head. I know it must seem strange,” he said, the lie coming effortlessly. He had gained plenty of practice in the art of deception since his youth and it came in handy during his days in the Army. He quickly turned the topic to the woman before she could ask any more questions. “What are you doing out so late, ma’am? I trust you’re not up to no good.” The Ripper's Doll by Jason McKinney
Posi frowned a moment, turned red-faced. “Oh, my deepest apologies. No offense intended. Merely thought for your collective appraisal, seeing one of the models … near-buff, if you will, would be preferable—for your assessment of the machine’s realism.”
Another flash from Mrs. Fontaine. “That’s a machine?”
“Why, yes … but let’s not forget, it eats, pisses, shits, and cries, and even better—bleeds.”
Several lights flash before follow-up comments: “Bravo.” “Fantastico.” “This will actually work.”
“Right you all are,” Mr. Posi assured. “Our cyborgs are functioning well-beyond our wildest expectations. “David, tell the board a bit of your parameters.”
The boy nodded. “As you can see, I appear to be just about the perfect age, seven, give or take. But I can be eight, nine, or eighty-nine. The format you see before you, however, was felt to be ideal for the seduction of pederasts. Naturally, there’s a female model, too. Anything can be made to fit your demands: pimps, pederasts, sadists or granny-rapers can all be lulled with the proper bait. See…all of our features are adjustable: size, sex, age, pigment, facial and voice features, personality tics, etc., making our line the most versatile imaginable.” Monsters Are Made by Rob Miller
“Grace?” came the soft sigh once more, but it was not her mother’s voice that spoke it. “Grace, look at me...”
With a thrill of horror, Grace slowly turned her head to look sideways towards the little table that the doll was resting upon. It was still exactly where her mother had left it, and Grace’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she stared at it properly for the first time.
The porcelain doll was beautiful. Blonde curls that were so like Grace’s own hung in elegant waves around the finely crafted face, a face that was so pale that it seemed almost to glow in the faint and eerie light of the bedroom. Pink lips pouted, fixed and immovable, but it was the eyes that Grace could not look away from. Lullabye by Kate Monroe
Shadows on the wall so eerie, made the little girl grow teary,
watching shapes of hideous evils casting their disturbing gloom.
As she shuddered , nearly crying, all at once she heard a prying,
much like someone trying, trying to get in the room.
“T’was some evil thing,” she figured, prying to get in her room.
“More than this, it’s bringing doom.” Devil Doll's by Blaze McRob
The dog yelped and dropped his find at Dan's feet.
“Are you hurt?” Dan looked in Buck's mouth but did not see anything. He picked up the mysterious item swathed in a baby blanket. “What's this? Just like Christmas morning,” he jested, unwrapping Buck's discovery.
Azure glass eyes, imbedded in a dirt covered porcelain face, framed by matted golden curls stared back at him.
“Way cool. This is the best thing you've ever found. Lexy's gonna love her.” He stroked Buck's head. “Good job, boy.” Buck whimpered again and scurried away.
“Wait for me,” Dan shouted, rewrapping the doll in the blanket. When he caught up to the dog, he examined him from head to toe. “I don't know what's wrong with you, boy. You don't look hurt. Why do you keep crying?” He knew very well that Buck could not answer. Dan examined the dog once more, then hurried home.
Strutting into the kitchen, Dan brimmed with pride. “Ma, look what Buck found,” he shouted. “Lexy will l…o…v…e… her.”
Sarah took the doll from Dan and examined her with a frown. “Yes, I believe she will, and fortunately I think she'll clean up nicely.” Smiling, she glanced back at Dan and Buck and shook her head. “Look at the two of you. You are quite the pair. You're almost as filthy as this doll. You had better wash up. Dinner is almost ready. You can give this to Lexy later.” She handed the doll back to Dan.
When Dan returned Lexy sprang at him. “You have something for me?”
“Lexy hears everything, you know that,” Sarah laughed. The Dweller by Yvonne I. Bishop
Honey, are you OK? Here let me help you up!” He reached his hand down toward her, but she backed away further.
“No, go away, you’re not my husband. My husband wasn’t plastic, like you!”
The neighbor’s car pulled up just then and Ken got out. “Hey neighbors, is there a problem? Here let me help you!” He leaped over the fence as if in a tennis match and gallantly strolled over. “I think she’s been out in the sun too long.”
“Yeah you may be right; her skin looks quite pliable, not good. I think she might melt!” Both men began to laugh.
“Better get her indoors, my man.”
“Melt? Do you hear yourselves? I’m not plastic! I’m human just like you…were Jim! What’s going on here?”
“Honey, I’m still your husband, I haven’t changed, it’s you that has changed, but you’ll come to work with me and we’ll fix you up in no time.”
“Jim, she’s really delusional. We better take her now. I’ll get Barbie to make us some lemonade to take along.”
Anna ran for the house, but the door wouldn’t open. Pounding and screaming for help, she panicked. Just above them, the storm that had been brewing all day had arrived. Black, with broken shards of light spearing their way through the rain swollen clouds, no thunderous clashes though, only Anna’s piercing screams were heard that night. The Mattel Nightmare by Sue Mydliak
So, if you have been sufficiently enticed to buy this book, you can find it in e-form on Amazon and Smashwords. It is also going to be coming out in paperback shortly.
Also from Angelic Knight Press, Bipedal, by Yvonne I. Bishop