• Sweet Dreams are made of this...

    I wake up.

    It's that same dream again.

    That same, beautiful, haunting dream.

    Where I see nothing but bloody roses in a victorian tea party.

    There is someone else but me. There is something else but me.




    And soon, I am thrust back into my dreamworld.

    I sense her.

    Yes, it's her.

    Near me.

    She-it- raises the cup daintily to her lips, the rich looking china clinking softly as the cup touches her wooden lips.

    Who is she?

    Why is she here?

    Who am I to disagree?

    I look up at her, my gaze almost breaking off at first glance.

    Pure, blue, azure blue eyes pierce my mind, almost to the depths of my soul.

    It's too much.

    I must turn away.

    Slowly, her arm creaks down and her cup, no, delicate china is brought down.

    Her head turns toward me and, for the briefest second, I thought she might have killed me with her eyes. Those eyes.

    She stands up and teeters toward me, almost starting to get too close for comfort.

    She stands close, her mechanical heart beating in sound with my breaths.

    Sweetest Honey, darkest water...

    Her mouth opens the tiniest bit and I get a glimpse of what resides inside.

    Mechanical springs and screws lace her wooden body, with a thick coil providing the base for movement.

    She isn't human.

    I am.

    Her mouth clicks open once again and her melodious, fake voice cranks out.

    "Would you like a cup of tea?"

    She holds the teapot earnestly in her tiny, white, artisan crafted hands.

    She blinks once, twice, and I figure out that I can't speak.

    My voice is frozen, gone, flying away.

    Makes my throat burn all the hotter...

    I nod, unable to imagine what this doll would have in store for me.

    "Good." her sound box says, eyes still unwavering and boring through my skull.

    Delicately, she raises her hand, and out of nowhere, I see a cup made out of bone ivory appear on the table.

    Pure magic.

    Pure dream.

    Her mouth clicks open as she lowers the teapot down near my cup.


    Darkest wonders, deepest hell...

    Pure fear or boldness encases me as I reach for the cup and, in one swift motion, put my lips on that expensive china.

    I take a deep sip as I let the taste wash over my tongue.

    It was sweet.


    Bittersweet with a hint of something else.

    It tasted familiar.....

    All of a sudden, it hit me.

    Demon's laughter, satan's yell...

    My body was becoming numb by the second as I realized what that doll had put in the tea.


    Deadly, sweet, plain old poison.

    And I had succumbed to that trick.

    My eyes felt droopy as I tried to stay awake.

    I saw the deep, rich scarlet of the killing doll's dress.

    I saw the pristine white of china.

    And I saw the stunning blue, the haunting smile of that doll, her mouth parted wordlessly, but still forming one, simple phrase.

    Before I thought I had died.

    But then I woke up....

    And realized that it had only been a dream...

    A sweet dream....

    The doll's words still haunt me to this day.

    I'll give you a sweeter dream next time...