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Stylish Payne

Chapter Three

There was a pain in my chest, like something laying on me. I’d heard about this. These things were the original nightmares. Night terrors. They sat on people’s chests and crushed their lungs until they suffocated in my sleep. Cautiously, I opened my eyes, finding my room in pitch black with the thing still on my chest. Luminous blue eyes stared at me in the dark. I screamed and reached for the switch on the lamp but it was too far. The thing leaned down, baring crooked, jagged human teeth that were a variety of different colours. The Night Terror smelled like death, like rotting meat. A clammy hand grasped my throat as its shaggy hair fell over my face. I shrieked, or tried to, hoping Louis or Liam would hear me and help me but the Terror’s hand was closing my wind pipes, closing off my vocal chords. I thrashed under it but the thing only laughed before I reached up and scratched it. In a rage the thing slammed a fist into my face. I squeezed my eyes shut before the collision but it was so real, I felt the pain. My eye, where its fist had specifically landed, felt heavy and started throbbing. The thing stopped choking me but the weight was still there.

“Ginny, I said get up”, the thing snapped. I opened my good eye seeing Harry. Harry was sitting on my chest. “I told you to get up earlier”, he growled. I sighed, realizing I was in my own well lit room, the only creep being Harry who could’ve very easily been stranger than the Night Terror. His messy eye liner only added to the hate in his eyes. “And don’t pretend like you were asleep. You reacted well e-bloody-nough when I adjusted your necklace.”

“What?” I asked.

Harry held up his arm. The Night Terror I’d attacked in my sleep had been Harry. There were claw marks up and down his forearm. “I don’t like to hit women but apparently you thought your acting was good enough to deserve a proper warning”, he muttered. No, it was really a dream. I didn’t- “Just what the Hell was Louis doing in your room?”

“He wasn’t”, I lied.

Harry smacked me across the face for the second time in 24 hours. “Those are his damned flowers on the night stand”, he snarled. “What was he doing?”

“He came in for a friendly visit”, I gasped, pushing him off of me. “Is that so wrong-”

“Business before pleasure. I told you to go to sleep so you could be ready for work in the morning. But now you’ve overslept and I’m afraid we can’t have breakfast. I hope you’re proud of your selfishness.” Harry walked out of my room, glaring and complaining about not having a morning scone with tea. I got up and tried looking around my luggage for something to wear. From the bags, I pulled out a soft pink blouse with grey dress slacks. I rushed into the bathroom to shower, brush my teeth, and pull my wet hair into a french twist. It would dry during some point in the day. After I was dressed, I attempted to do my make up, using nude shadows to try covering the black eye Harry had gifted me. Nothing worked and I pouted. Upon leaving the room for a pair of black heels, I saw a doll on a chair. It was a devilish caricature of Liam, business suit and all with big red horns under a neat slicked hair style and a contract to Satan pinned in his rotten hands.

It looked like Liam but it was demonized. Alright, Harry. I rushed downstairs where Harry was already waiting for me with something in his hand. “That’s not a very good look”, he said sympathetically reaching for my cheek. I flinched away but he grabbed my shoulder and forced me to stand still as he produced an eyepatch. “This is for you”, he smiled. It was an old fashioned piece that he tied under my hair for me. I must’ve looked ridiculous but Harry said he liked it. “It’s...unique”, he grinned.

“Of course”, I agreed. He brought me outside where I waved to Louis who sent a discreet smile back before I was stuffed into a black vehicle. Harry drove us into town to a cartoonish looking building that was more like a morbid joke considering how warped his creations were.

“It’s very simple”, Harry informed, bringing me into a Hellish Barbie Dream House. “Here, you’ll be working reception. Right there, at by the computer, is a second monitor where you can watch people, you know. In case they try lifting something. Don’t worry about the Doll Doors. All of them are locked tight.” A bright blue door sat behind the counter, boasting another doll eye. Harry tried the handle and beamed. “No problem. All locked. When Niall comes in, please use the computer to check in his products. I’ll be in the basement. Please use the phone to call me if you need anything. Push the intercom button, then press two. The phone downstairs should ring and I shall be up momentarily. If anyone makes a purchase or would like an order, please use the scanner by the computer to accommodate them. I’m sure you’re familiar with all of this. Liam said you worked for many high end designer outlets in London.”

“Yes sir”, I assured. Harry clapped my shoulder and disappeared into the Barbie Dream House. I waited around for anyone to come in but made sure to adjust dolls in nearby rooms that met the foyer with massive open archways. One side was a little more child friendly but was only one room. Signs pointed the ways to the more disturbing collections. Bound In Love was upstairs in a bedroom, Chef’s Specials were obviously in the kitchen, The Mourning Party were found in the living room which made sense as that was the room wakes were historically held. Each collection seemed to have their own rooms. As the morning got later, people began pouring in. Edgy teenagers, refined but eccentric adults, curious onlookers. Anyone who wanted to see Harry’s Little Shop of Horror (though the sign outside boasted the name Stylish Payne’s Dollhouse). I helped a few people including a very grotesque young man dressed in victorian gothic fashion saying he wanted an anniversary present. I was very proud to call Harry after he left and tell him I’d sold the man a very quality, one of a kind Catherine Eddowes doll, complete with exposed intestines and signature Ripper-victim pose. I earned a verbal pat on the head. It wasn’t long after that that a blonde haired man with a dolly came in. It was stacked with boxes, each labelled with a different country name.

“Hello, are you…?” He trailed off and gave me a questionable look.

“I’m Miss Payne”, I informed. “Mr. Payne’s cousin and Mr. Styles’ new receptionist.”

“Great, I’m Niall. Check this in for me?”

I nodded and took one of those scanner guns from the front desk to enter bar codes into the computer. “Do you want help unloading those?” I proffered. Niall shook his head.

“No, mum. It’s best a lady like you don’t partake in this. It’s a nasty business.”

Louis’s drug accusations popped up in my head again. “Surely, it’s not so bad?” I smiled.

Again, Niall shook his head. “I have to insist, mum. Right scary bits in there. A woman might pass out at the sight. I mean, would you want to see detached dolly arms?”

“They’re just dolls”, I smiled.

Niall frowned. “I’ll be taking these down to Mr. Styles. Thank you for checking me in, mum.”

“Sure thing”, I sighed. I so desperately wanted to know what was in those doors or even those boxes. What if it was drugs? Part of me laughed. A tiny little lad like Harry, a wilted flower, as a drug kingpin? Yeah right. But what else would it be? Maybe those doll parts were how he smuggled his substances into the country. It gave me the chills. Then again, there was no way Liam would take part in such activities. He had always kept his nose clean.

Filled with confusion and a flipping stomach, I painted on a smile for the next customers to walk in.