Toys in the Attic: A Collection of Evil Playthings

Imagine… An old house; one that has stood many generations. WAITING… You step inside and begin to explore. Was this a good idea? You begin to doubt, but continue to step deeper within the eerie darkness. Something stirs above. Should you investigate? Wandering, you reach the second floor landing. In the center of the upstairs hall, directly above, you discover a trap door. You know, the one that leads to something so terrible, you dare not think to touch it, much less attempt to open the latch! Nevertheless, you are drawn to inspect further. Something is stirring above… of this, you have no doubt. You stand upon tip toe, stretching as far as your fingers will allow, until you grasp the cord attached to the door. With a loud creaking it opens; releasing a set of stairs, descending before you. Gazing up, there is nothing but a black hole. There! Again! That stirring! Against your better judgement, you begin to climb. Sweat forms upon your brow with each step, as your stomach turns sour. Still, you climb. Those few stairs feel an eternity to ascend. There at the top, nothing. Dark and empty… nothing. Your eyes adjust… Wait! Beneath the cobwebs and years of layered dust, stands a long, wooden chest. Is it locked? Hmmm… You step within the musty room. There, propped against the side of the chest, an old metal rod. You pick it up, using it to pry open what should have been left locked away, eternally. Toys! Old toys! Somewhere in the darkness, a melody plays, soft and haunting. A music box? NO! A small carousel is moving beside you. It’s once colorful horses bobbing in time. You look about. There are toys everywhere! Old, broken, forgotten toys fill this attic room. A doll, cracked skull, hairless, limbs askew; stares from behind one eye. The other an empty, hollow socket. A rocking horse begins to sway in the corner. Toy soldiers, their green metal chipped and rusted. How odd; they appear in battle stance, staring… Suddenly, the trap door closes. Darkness… the stirring… These toys… You know why they have been locked away. You stand among evil incarnate. The melody stops. No one hears your final cries…

Country of Publication

United States