Doll Eyes; 1.1 - Not So New

As the wind picked up it made the old roof creak; a loose unseen window shutter from somewhere around the back of the property, banged nosily against the side of the dilapidated mansion.

Leaning on the rusted fence railing letting out a small sigh, Charles gave an absent minded nod as his eyes traveled across the yard that was just as neglected as the house.

“Don't worry; in a couple of weeks, you'll be good as new.” He spoke to himself before he pushed himself off the fence, squared his shoulders and walked up the old pathway to what was left of the front entrance.

After having driven for almost two days straight, it felt good to be out of the truck Charles had hired to bring his most important belongings with him.

Outside was a perfect sunny spring day with birds chirping happily in the warm sunshine, the inside of the mansion seem to have an overpowering aura of sadness about it. The merger light that seemed to be allowed to come in, didn't even seem to brighten up the place at all.

Charles stepped inside carefully feeling the floorboards with a little bit of his weight to make sure they wouldn't collapse under him.

Dust wafted on the stale air of the place, glistening dully in the shafts of sunlight.

The mansion he had decided to purchase after he had had been transferred to Twinbrook so that he could work with a more accommodating division for his research.

The mansion was perfect for him because he could customize the place for his work while having it renovated.

“These little off-the-side towns don't have to follow the regulations like we do here in the city. I've organized some contractors to come and fix up your place, just tell them what you want and they'll do it. Do what you have to do, and when you're ready give me a call; I'll bring my people to you.”

That was the last thing Charles's former boss had said to him as he finished packing up his research lab into the truck three days ago.

Charles had been informed of the history of the mansion; it was said, as with all good old stories, that a wealthy businessman had built the house for his new wife in the early 1800s as a wedding gift.

In its day it was one of the grandest houses in Twinbrook, with the view of the wetlands leading out the ocean giving it a grand unspoiled vista, no other piece of land in the town could rival it.

His wife had only given him two girls and was unable to have any more children after them; he apparently became depressed taking up gambling and drinking heavily.

Of course this lead to the usual result of the husband beating his wife and children, to which he eventually lost his them as well as his entire fortune which including the house.

The wife had moved away from Twinbrook and bank repossessed the house. A few days later the man was found dead in the low lying swamp lands of Twinbrook, drowned.

Some said he was murdered by those he owed money too; others say he committed suicide from being grief stricken, but since no investigation was ever done, no one knew the truth.

To his own slight surprise Charles found that lost in his thoughts he had wandered into one of the old rooms doorways, he standing in what appeared to have once been a sitting room of some sorts.

As grand as the house once was, it appeared to be a rather small version of grander mansions from its time.

Giving a small shrug, he knew it didn't matter in the slightest since the renovating was going to be starting the next day anyway.

His work didn't allow him too much time for dating and the thought of marriage never even crossed his mind.

As he stared at the broken window pane across the room, his thoughts actually turned to how he was going begin work since he would have to wait for the renovations to be complete before he could get started.

Deciding that since nothing would be working or safe to use in the house, Charles called himself a pizza.

As he hung up a loud bang come from above him; carefully he climbed the old staircase to the upper floor of the house, carefully watching his footing and ducking under low hanging, dust filled spider webs from time to time that were probably older than he was.

Upstairs had a different aura to downstairs, here it smelt of a long faded jasmine perfume that still seemed to be clinging to the worn and faded lace curtains.

Twice had to stop and look behind himself, he shook his head each time knowing it was a natural reaction to being in an odd and different environment to what he was use to.

He checked the rooms one by one; there were five rooms upstairs in all.

But the one that grabbed his attention the most was a small seemingly unneeded room which had an old ladder leading up to was he assumed was the attic.

He peered up into the shadows for a moment before gripping onto the rungs of the ladder and slowly ascended.

The attic was gloomier than the rest of the house, so Charles had to stand for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the room. He spotted some old candles by a bookcase, pulling a lighter he always kept handy from his jeans pocket; he carefully lit them then put it back in his pocket.

As usual, the attic had abandoned old junk left behind, but strangely the assorted items looked to be even older then the furniture downstairs.

The dust was so thick in places that it was almost like carpet. Long ago the roof had collapsed in places and now weeds had taken root amongst the rotting floorboards. The books in the cases were so old and damaged that as much as Charles wanted to reach out and grab the precious antique writings, he didn't dare for fear that they might crumble under his touch.

The smell of musty mold made Charles wrinkle his nose for a moment in distaste.

With another half hearted sigh he turned to go back down the ladder since the sun was beginning to set, he would have to get some sort of light going downstairs before he was unable to see anything.

The last thing he wanted to do was to be fumbling about in the potential death trap that the house was for the moment.

Just as he was about to leave, something small and pale caught his eye in the far back corner of the second section of the attic.

A par of tiny feet were poking out from the far side of an old toy box, usually he wouldn't have given it a second glance but in the ever growing darkness he wanted to know just ‘what’ the tiny feet belonged too.

Going over and bending down, he saw that it was an old, worn porcelain doll.

She was dusty, her once elegant dress and painted face were faded from time but other than that, she was perfect.

Her silver glass eyes surrounded by long eyelashes stared blankly at the wall, her lips painted in an everlasting pretty pink smile with rosy cheeks and the classic oval shaped face framed by a neatly trimmed head of thick faded blond, straight silky hair.

It wasn't until there was a shout out from below that Charles was startled out of being mesmerized and lost in thought while staring at the strange doll.

“Hey, anyone here, I got a pizza for Maddison?”

“I'M HERE...I'M HERE, ONE MINUTE!”

Charles shouted down, he was hungry and didn't want to lose out on eating because he was day-dreaming.

Hurriedly coming downstairs to get his pizza, the delivery girl gave him a funny look as she handed the box over after taking his money.

“I live here now, just moved in this afternoon.” He clarified to stop her odd stare at him.

“Right, hope you didn't get ripped off man...”

Charles gave a small huff with a raised eyebrow. ‘Unlike the 30 simolians I just paid for one stupid pizza.’

He gave a plastered smile and took the pizza to what remained of the kitchen.

Taking a slice of pizza, Charles thought while eating it about his research.

He was suppose to be heading to the science labs on the other side of town to begin his work in the morning, he wasn't sure how his new colleges would react to his theories and hoped that they would be just as interested as he was.

Of course a lot of it was controversial and although it didn't require animal or human testing, there was still the debate of what the end results were to be treated as if he was successful.

That was the tricky part; he paused sitting in thought for a long time.

Again it was a stiff breeze and the banging of the loose shutter that snapped him out of his thoughts; the pizza he'd left in the kitchen was now cold and he didn't feel like finishing it off.

Deciding to just sleep downstairs in a sleeping bag he had bought, Charles settled down on the creaky floor boards of the sitting room.

Shutting his eyes against the strange darkness of the house he made a mental note that before the gardeners, plumbers and handymen came to start repairing the place, he would make sure they would be able to make the place a bit roomier without altering the original style of the house too much as well as create a suitable space for him to be able to have his own work space.

The last thing he needed would be the roof to cave in on him while he was trying to work, and sleeping on the floor was not doable for more than a few days either.

The wind picked up again as Charles fell asleep; it howled its way through the dead trees and weeds in the yard as well as making the loose shutters batter themselves against the outside walls like an out of beat drummer.

Dawn gave a soft gray pink glow to the skyline of Twinbrook the next morning.

Charles was up as his sleeping bag wasn't comfortable nor did it guard against the chilled air that seeped up through the uneven floorboards all night.

Going to the kitchen, he stopped and leaned against the arch of the doorway and gave it a good long look, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose at the off smell of the pizza accidentally he left out, Charles was glad that work on the house would be starting in a few hours. He'd never realized how much he missed having a fridge and coffee machine.

Just as he was beginning to wander about the kitchen, his phone buzzed in his dressing gown.

Pulling it out he saw he had received a message from the builders with the floor plans for the house.

The plan was to restore the house to its original state, with a few modern changes added for room and comfort.

8:14am - ‘No more than a week at the most, unless there's extensive damage to the outside supports and the properties foundations.’

With a nod, Charles checked the time on the phone before putting it back in his pocket and went to get changed.

As he left the house, the builders truck pulled up out front. Use to seeing pick-up trucks, it was a bit of a shock to see what looked like a moving truck instead.

Taking stiff inhale of breath, Charles nodded to the builders and called a taxi to take him to work.

He made a note to get himself a car of some sort before the week was out.

As Charles arrived at work, it began to rain, fat droplets spattered on the ground with sharp tapping sounds as if to make a statement.

Opening the door to the lobby of his new workplace, he stood for a moment absorbing the odd simplicity of the place.

It was orderly and set to direct one straight to where they needed to go around the building.

“Impressive...” Charles spoke to no-one in particular as he squared his shoulders and walked on into the building.

In all honesty he hated meeting new people, it wasn't that Charles was a loner or had trouble making friends; it was the whole process that annoyed him more and more every time.

New names to faces, new information to retain so as not to insult anyone, and the first out-side of work meeting always felt like an exam of some sort.

Recall the name, where you met them, what they're working on, did you get along with them or not when you first met. Charles found it to always be the same tedious merry-go-round of communication that was necessary to be productive, but annoying none the less.

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Charles couldn't help but wonder what his former boss had paid the builders. He was amazed when by the end of the week, on the Friday no less; they had completed the entire restoration of the house, inside and out. 

Everything from the furnishings Charles picked out for himself; to wallpaper that was historically accurate of the houses original style, even the light fittings were so close that Charles was sure if he emptied the house of everything, it would look like it had been built only yesterday back in its original time.

As Charles requested, the attic had been turned in his own private study and research area. He was able to have placed a simple but effective work bench in the far room.

There were still a few old boxes and trunks the builders had left behind. Knowing that the old trunks held things that could be worth a fair few simolians, Charles had specifically asked the builders to leave any they found in the attic.

The odd porcelain doll had also been carefully placed on top of an empty wooden box by Charles's research bench; she still stared at the opposite wall with her silver glass eyes, but something seemed to have changed... her eyes seemed shinier somehow, and, was she smiling just a little bit more than before or had he not noticed in the shadows of the room when he had first seen her?