You've heard the story of the cursed shoes, right? Where a girl receives a special pair of shoes that possesses the wearer's feet and forces them to dance forever? Of course, it's just a fairy tale. There's no way there could actually be a pair of haunted ballet shoes out there, right? I once believed that too.
I had a friend named Jenavieve, and she was an amazing ballet dancer. She even looked like a dancer: long black hair, bright blue eyes, and long, thin legs. She was a really nice girl too, never could say no. I was always the one to stick up for her.
Anyway, she had a really big recital the next day, and she was a HUGE procrastinator. Of course she waited until the very last minute to get an outfit. So me being an amazing friend, took her to go shopping. She said she'd reward me with a movie of my choice.
Well, we were walking and Jenny spotted what she deemed "the perfect pair of shoes", but I wasn't so sure. Don't get me wrong, the shoes were beautiful. The shoes themselves were red with sparkles and the straps you tie them up with were red silk. The shoes were fine; it was the place they were being sold at that I didn't like.
The shop looked like one of those places you'd get a really convincing séance at (you know, those weird meetings where people try to talk to ghosts?). The walls were purple with weird black markings, and the floor was a dark orange color. There were all sorts of books and knick-knacks and gadgets and such. The window display had different pieces of freaky looking jewelry. The shoes were sitting next to a ring that supposedly turned your thumb green or something.
Jenny was getting kind of freaked out by the store so we picked up the shoes and hurried over to the front desk. It took awhile for somebody to actually appear behind the counter, but the lady looked intimidating enough for me not to complain. She had long, tangled, bleach-blonde hair and a sharp, pointed face. Her gown was a royal purple robe that contrasted greatly with the bright green lace across her eyes. She grinned wickedly when she saw us.
"Why hello there dearies! What is it you would like from my fine little shop?" her sharp teeth gleamed in the low light.
"We would like to purchase these shoes." I said, as Jenny was obviously too scared to speak.
She cackled, a horrible, witchy sounding laugh, "That would be $25, sweetie."
"Twenty five dollars for a pair of stinking shoes!? That's an out-"
Jenny grabs my arm and gives me a look I've never seen before. "Fine, here."
I handed her the money, grabbed the shoes, and headed out of that store as fast as I entered it. And you'd best believe Jenny was right at my heels. We window shopped some more and finally found a dress to match the shoes. The dress was made of soft red fabric and had a red belt made of silk.
We then started to Jenny's house for the movie. Now, Jenny isn't one for scary movies, but I am. I had chosen the movie Dance for us to watch. It was a horror flick loosely based on the cursed shoes fairy tale. The cursed shoes from the movie looked exactly like the shoes we picked out, "Dyed red from the blood of the wearers," the poster had said, so I figured it would give her a nice spook before the show.
It seemed, however, that my plan worked a little too well. Turns out, the movie spooked Jenny so much that she wouldn't try on the shoes or dress. Eventually I got fed up with the games and left, which in hindsight wasn't a very good idea. I figured she'd be fine now that she was extra careful because the movie.
A few hours passed. I did what I normally did on the weekends (read, write, read some more, write some more). I kept getting this weird feeling though, like something bad was going to happen, and that I shouldn't have left Jenny alone. I just pushed it down, thinking everything was fine and that the movie was just getting to me.
Then, at about 9:15 pm, I received a text from Jenny. It was short, simple, and very confusing. It read:
Help. Studio Tape.
Studio tape? Was she talking about the security tapes to the dance studio? What did she want to show me there? She was at her house, right? A million questions ran around in my mind, but I trusted Jenny, so I hacked my way into the tapes.
First few hours were not that interesting: three year olds were learning to dance, some kid got pantsed, and the janitor put on an amazing show after hours. But at 7:13, a figure walked out from the inky black. They placed down a burning candle and I recognized it as Jenny in the outfit we bought.
I started looking around and noticed, just out of the reach of the flame's light, a silhouette stood watching her. It bent down to the radio beside it and pressed play. A child's tune started playing. I recognized the tune but couldn't tell which song it was.
Kookaburra sits in the old plum tree...
Jenny started to dance, which I thought was strange, considering this wasn't the kind of music she usually danced too. The dark figure soon started to softly laugh, a familiar, high-pitched laugh. It struck a deep sense of fear into me; what was it going to do to Jenny?
Merry merry king of the bush is he...
The music started to speed up, and so did Jenny. Dancing faster and faster by the minute, I could see her sweat glistening in the flame light. The laughing soon grew louder, and it sent shivers down my spine as I racked my brain as to where I had heard it before.
Laugh Kookaburra, laugh Kookaburra....
Jenny started to dance at inhuman speeds. I could tell it was hurting her because of how much she was shaking. The laughter and song were starting to give me a headache. Both were loud and neither could overpower the other.
Gay your life must be!
Suddenly, the figure raised their hand, and Jenny and the music stopped. Slowly, they started to clench their hand into a fist, and Jenny's body began to convulse and writhe. Then abruptly, they brought their hand down and Jenny fell apart and fell to the ground.
I held my breath - no, this can't be! Her arms were disconnected at the wrists, shoulders, and elbows, and her legs at the pelvis, knees, and ankles. Her head rolled from her body, and the skin over her right eye and forehead slid onto the floor.
The figure walked out into the light and looked straight into the camera. I realized in horror that this was the lady that sold us the shoes. The only thing that was different about her was that her bright green lace was gone, revealing two glowing, purple eyes.
She grinned wickedly and held up Jenny's pink phone. I quickly closed the laptop and got out my phone to call the police. I jumped into my car and drove to the studio. I explained what had happened and what I had seen. I also showed them the text.
Two hours and a lot of crying later, I was back in my house and on my laptop. It's 12:30 and I'm writing down what happened as a last record of the events of yesterday. I lean back, close my laptop, and sigh, thinking it's all over.
A thumping sound from downstairs makes me bolt upright. I reluctantly leave the comfort of my bed and start to make the journey to the lower parts of the house. Once I arrive at the kitchen, I freeze, gasp, and back up a few steps.
It looked like Jenny. No, it was Jenny. The old hag had taken the different parts of her body, sewn them back together, and pumped it so full of blood that it was leaking out the eyes. Her right eye had been replaced and was now bright purple instead of blue.
The...doll, the Jenny doll turned its head and looked straight at me, to which I made a horrified squeaking sound and ran right back up the stairs and back to my bedroom, where I then locked the door and pushed my desk in front of it to block the doll's path.
Thump, thump, thump. I heard as the doll came up the stairs. Those stupid shoes must have given the dang thing super strength, 'cause it moved all that with a single push. I backed up against the wall, the doll slowly closing in on me.
I quickly grabbed my phone out my pajama pocket and dialed 9-1-1 once more. I closed my eyes and braced myself, realizing I was going to be killed by my former best friend's corpse. I heard a snap, felt a killer pain in my neck, and screamed bloody murder.
July 30, 2015. A series of murders began by the killer authorities are calling the Broken Doll. It is currently December 17, and there have been a reported 200 murders and growing.
All of the victims are reported to have all of the bones in their bodies broken beginning with the neck. Their necks were also slit so that the killer could write the words "Dance Doll!" in the victims' blood on the walls repeatedly.
The search for this mysterious serial killer continues.