Chapter 4

As Jack caught his breath in the dark corridor, he stumbled forward, his hands outstretched in front of him. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but he knew he had to keep moving.

Suddenly, his fingers brushed against a door handle, and he pushed it open, revealing a room filled with rows of dusty, old bookshelves. The air was thick with the scent of decay and rot.

Jack's eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he began to explore the room. The bookshelves stretched all the way to the ceiling, packed tightly with leather-bound tomes and dusty, old manuscripts.

As he wandered deeper into the room, Jack stumbled upon a large, ornate desk, covered in papers, quills, and strange, arcane symbols. Behind the desk, a large, leather-bound book lay open, its pages revealing a handwritten journal.

Jack's curiosity got the better of him, and he began to read the journal. The entries were written in a flowing, cursive script, detailing the life and work of a man named Malcolm.

As Jack read on, he discovered that Malcolm was a brilliant, yet reclusive, doll maker who had lived in the dollhouse over a century ago. Malcolm's dolls were renowned for their beauty and craftsmanship, but despite his talent, he was mocked and ridiculed by the townspeople.

The journal entries revealed Malcolm's growing frustration and anger towards those who mocked him. He became increasingly obsessed with the idea of creating dolls that could think and act for themselves.

As Jack turned the pages, he came across a passage that made his blood run cold:

"I have delved deep into the dark arts, seeking the secrets of demonology. I have made pacts with malevolent entities, trading my soul for the power to imbue my dolls with life."

Jack's eyes widened in horror as he realized the true nature of the dolls. They were not just simple toys, but vessels for malevolent spirits, created to hunt and torment anyone who dared to enter the dollhouse.

The journal entries continued, detailing Malcolm's descent into madness and his ultimate disappearance. But the final entry was the most chilling:

"I have given my dolls the gift of life, and they will hunt forever, seeking out those who mocked me, those who wronged me. They will never stop, never tire, until they have claimed their revenge."

As Jack finished reading the journal, he felt a creeping sense of dread. He knew that he had to get out of the dollhouse, and fast. The dolls were not just simple toys, but vessels for malevolent spirits, and they would stop at nothing to claim their revenge.

Jack's eyes scanned the room, searching for any possible escape route. That's when he spotted a small, hidden door behind one of the bookshelves. Without hesitation, Jack made a dash for the door, hoping against hope that it would lead him to freedom.

As Jack made his way towards the hidden door, he passed by a ventilation shaft in the wall. Unbeknownst to him, a small, beady-eyed doll was watching him from the shadows.

The doll, no bigger than a thumb, was known as Little Helper. She was the Queen's most trusted spy and messenger, and she had been tasked with keeping an eye on Jack.

Little Helper's gaze followed Jack as he moved towards the door. She noted the determination in his step, the set of his jaw. She knew that Jack was not one to give up easily.

The Queen, seated on her throne, watched Jack through Little Helper's eyes. She was the first creation of Malcolm, the doll maker, and she had been imbued with a spark of his own twisted soul.

The Queen's gaze was cold and calculating, her eyes gleaming with a malevolent light. She knew that Jack was getting close to uncovering the secrets of the dollhouse, and she would stop at nothing to prevent him from escaping.

Little Helper's voice was barely audible, a tiny whisper in the Queen's ear. "Your Majesty, the human is making his way towards the door. Shall I alert the others?"

The Queen's response was immediate. "No, Little Helper. Let him think he has a chance. Let him think he can escape. But we will be waiting for him, and we will show him no mercy."

Little Helper nodded, her tiny head bobbing up and down. She knew that the Queen's word was law, and she would carry out her orders to the letter.

As Jack reached the hidden door, he felt a sense of trepidation. He knew that he was taking a risk, but he had to try. He pushed the door open, and stepped through it, into the unknown.

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