The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Nesting 
by Kim Richards 

Nydia stood before her grandmother’s antique lindenwood credenza. She gazed at a set of nesting dolls arranged in a circle atop a crochet string doily. Each doll was increasingly larger than the next until the smallest of the six sat beside the largest. The smallest represented an infant. Each successive doll increased in apparent age as it did in size. She knew they fit inside one another which is why Grandma Audeen called them nesting dolls.

     Nydia longed to reach out and touch their glossy surfaces, take them in her hands, give them voices and movement. Alas, that was forbidden. She could only stand before them and memorize all the details.

     There were many. The largest doll could easily be a grandmother she supposed. Lines traced around the mouth, eyes, and across its forehead. Its grey painted hair looked plain with only a part in the center. A dress with little pink flowers covered its round body. Atop which an apron, lined with painted lace, adorned the front. The doll’s lips were pink to match the dress.

     What interested Nydia most was the figure the grandma doll held in one hand. At first she thought it was a peculiar mouse. Then one day, when Grandma Audeen shuffled to the kitchen for tea, Nydia dared lean in close. That’s when she realized the tip of mouse’s tail ended with a shape like a barbed arrowhead. What she previously thought were pointed ears were indeed horns.

     Nydia leaned in, nearly touching the doll with her nose to better examine the figure’s red eyes. When they blinked, she almost knocked over the entire doll set when she jumped back with arms flailing.

     That was two weeks ago. Today Audeen nestled in her worn-out recliner. Silent and brooding, she twisted her ragged lap blanket in her gnarled hands. She pursed her lips, watching her grandaughter stare at the dolls.

     After letting out a big sigh, she said, “You know, there are supposed to be eight of those.”

     Nydia straightened and turned to face her grandmother. “What happed to the other two?”

     “They got used up.”

     “Used up how?”

     Audeen held out her hands. “Help me up and I’ll show you.”

     Ever obedient, Nydia did so. She struggled to assist the older woman to stand but eventually managed to get her on her slippered feet. Together they slowly walked over to the credenza.

     Motioning toward the dolls, Audeen instructed, “Pick up the largest doll and one of the others.”

     “Does it matter which one?”

     Audeen shook her head.

     When Nydia closed her fingers around the grandmother doll, a tingling sensation traveled through her fingertips, across her palm and up her arm. She wanted to put it down but one look at her grandmother’s dour expression told her to continue.

     Her hand hovered over the other dolls. “Hmmm. I can’t decide.”

     “Well, I can’t stand here all day. Not with these aching knees. Just pick one.”

     “I have an idea. Since this one…” She held up the large doll in her hand. “…reminds me of a grandmother. That means she’s you. So, I’ll pick the one that looks like me.”

     Audeen’s mouth twitched into a wicked grin as Nydia chose the one with a dress the same color as hers.

     “Now, nest that one inside the larger one.”

     Nydia turned the dolls on their sides and placed the head of the smaller one inside the opening at the bottom of the other. The tinging in her arm spread across her entire body. With a wet sucking sound, the small doll swiftly left Nydia’s fingers and disappeared inside the other doll.

     Suddenly weak, she fell to her knees. “What’s happening?” The dolls fell from her fingers, bouncing on the floor.

     “It’s the nesting.”  Audeen lifted her skirts.

     With the same sucking sound, Nydia disappeared beneath the cloth, head first. Her scream muffled and then silenced.

     The air around Audeen shimmered. She stood taller, the wrinkles of her skin smoothed away, and she smiled a now youthful smile. Humming, she returned the large doll to its place on the credenza.

Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com