“I desire nothing more than death, but……”

“Nothing I tried has worked.”

“Aww, well, there’s no harm in one more attempt! I hope you fulfill your dreams soon.” Annabelle chirped, smile still unwavering from her face. “If you want, I can kill you myself, but only if you wake up.”

“I would prefer to not be charred to a crisp,” Noël darkly muttered as he sent a glare towards Annabelle.

Oblivious to Noël’s complete disdain, Annabelle cheerfully questioned, “Then…what do you want?”

“I…am a monster, like from all those fairytales I’ve read. I may not be a dragon or sorcerer, but…I should not exist.”

“I am a monster, so it is only fitting a hero kills me.”

“Perhaps I’ll be able to die if a knight kills me, like in those books I adored as a child…”

“Great, then I’ll be the one to kill you when you wake up!” Annabelle beamed as she latched onto Noël’s sleeve and dragged him away from the front door. “Problem solved!”

“Please accept my apologies Miss, but I do not believe you will be able to kill me.” Carefully brushing off the iron-grip Annabelle had around his arm, Noël steadily walked back towards the front entrance of his home. “Only a hero can kill me, and you seem neither valiant nor courageous…”

Gesticulating wildly, Annabelle ran over to Noël. “Hey!! I’m amazing, brave, smart, pretty, courageous—”

“And you said that you eat people,” Noël deadpanned.

Slowly burying her face in her hands, Annabelle sighed. “Eh, only those who deserve it…”

“I see…well, that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. If you want corpses, there are none to be found in my home.” Attention already wavering, Noël instead inspected a thin series of cracks protruding from a window…his reflection still nonexistent as ever. “Unless…Mister Magpie counts?”

“Mister Magpie will be fine by tomorrow morning,” Annabelle muttered as her eyes turned towards the tomb the bird was subjected to. “He dies all the time; think of it like his special talent or something.”

“I still don’t understand what you mean by that, Miss.” Noël silently responded in slight disbelief.

Guffawing, Annabelle laughed off Noël’s inquiry with a wave of her sleeves. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I would like an explanation if possible. But, if Mister Magpie is not the reason, why else would you be here?” Glancing quizzically at the taller girl, Noël was at a loss for what was perhaps the hundredth time that day.

Deflating a little, Annabelle exclaimed, “I don’t know!!! That’s why I’m so confused!”

“Hm, well, if what you’re saying is true, how do I wake up?”

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Searching his face for any answers, Annabelle could do nothing more but furrow her brows in confusion. “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll work something out if I follow you around?”

“May I decline?”

“Nope!” Annabelle joyfully replied. “You’re stuck with me until you wake up.”

“Wonderful.” Reaching towards the plain door adorned with bright autumn leaves, Noël was irritated to be confronted with the cacophony of squeaky door hinges once again. Stepping aside, he allowed passage for Annabelle into the dark and musty entrance of the cottage. During its heyday, it could have been a pleasant old retreat from the business of the outside world. Though, instead of the sweet aroma of apples and spices, a heavy, musty aura instead permeated the air. While clearly lived in, the house appeared to emanate an aura of sadness, as if longing for the specters it once knew to return from the grave.

Loud creaks followed Annabelle as she hopped from one floorboard to another. Basking in the cold, soulless visage of the dilapidated structure, the girl’s eyes shined in glee. “This place is a dump. Looks like you’ll really have to wake up soon if you want to leave!”

“Your astuteness is much appreciated, miss.” Exasperated, Noël beckoned for Annabelle to follow him into his Aunt’s study once more. “Please follow me.”

Upon moving aside the heavy door guarding his beloved Aunt’s workplace, the duo was greeted by an onslaught of dust. Coughing, Annabelle jumped away from Noël. “A warning would have been nice! When was the last time you even cleaned here; during the black plague!!?”

“My dream, my rules,” Noël sighed. “I may simply like dust. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Why would you want to dream about a dusty old house?”

Ignoring what could be considered vapid inquiries, Noël trekked on. The room certainly had a slight chill to it, but he’d fared through worse. Afterall, a little cold could never hurt him. Footsteps coming to a halt, Noël opened the looming wardrobe and was once again confronted by the sight of numerous, button-eyed dolls. Grotesque smiles stitched into their gray faces, the dolls were dormant as they gazed unseeingly…

Feet frozen by the entrance of the grimy, decrepit room, realization slowly dawned on Annabelle. Excitedly, the rosy eyed girl sprinted towards Noël, hastily grabbing a doll in the process. “I finally understand!! This creepy old house…it’s filled with dolls!”

In confusion, Noël stared at her before attempting to grab the doll she unceremoniously grabbed. The poor dear was already falling apart at the seams. Surely, being jostled and flung all over the place would only result in extra stitches for the sad little doll. “I am quite aware. These are my Aunt’s dolls, afterall.”

Finally freeing the small doll from Annabelle’s grip, Noël weakly smiled at it before properly introducing them. “They’re Auntie’s familiars. Aren’t they cute?”

“Familiars…you mean like a witch?” Annabelle questioned as she gazed intensely at the doll. As if sensing the terrible situation it had found itself in, the doll almost appeared to shake in terror. Or, it could merely be due to the loose grip Noël had it in.

“Aren’t familiars usually supposed to be cats or toads?”

“My Aunt does not enjoy conforming to stereotypes,” Noël quickly responded, as if he were reading from a dictionary. “She’s had them for as far back as I can remember, though I think she had a raven.”

“Do you know how they’re made?” Annabelle questioned, faint smile plastered onto her face.

“Auntie told me it’s a trade secret.”

With an almost apologetic smile, rosy eyes glanced back towards the wardrobe of dolls. “That’s one way to say it…”

Sensing the arising tension, Noël, searching for an escape, wracked his brain

for a solution to alleviate this odd girl’s tentative smile. Such an expression looked so foreign on her…he quite found himself to be uneasy to be on the receiving end of such an eerie grin. “She never approved of me messing with her dolls, but I just can’t leave these poor dears alone now that Aunt Delia is away.”

“Where did she go?” Annabelle asked as her gaze snapped away from the assortment of tattered button-eyed dolls.

Tears slowly started to well in his eyes as he recalled the hazy memories he had of his Aunt. They reminded him of endless autumn chill and crisp apple trees. As Noël desperately grasped ethereal and fleeting memories of days long past, it almost felt as if a black veil was placed atop his eyes. As he slowly lost himself in time, he was vaguely reminded of an all too dark crypt encased within lonely woods. And yet, he could not move forwards or backwards, almost….as if a barrier prevented him from a momentary reprieve or escape. “She went far, far away…but I fear that wherever she may have traveled, I cannot follow her.”

“Do you miss your Aunt?”

“Yes; every single waking moment of my life,” Noël dully responded, attempting to conceal his steady flow of tears. “I do not know if I will ever see her again, but I cannot help but miss her every day.”

Frowning, Annabelle carefully regarded his response…wary of how his appearance at that moment was uncannily similar to that of the dolls currently encased within the ancient wardrobe. “So, you really do miss her…even though you know your Aunt is a bad person?”

“I’d rather we not discuss this right now, Miss.” Picking up a doll that had unceremoniously fallen onto the hardwood surface of the room, Noël placed it back into the wardrobe. Hinges squeaking as its weathered doors were closed, it almost appeared as if the somewhat curious dolls were waving…as if they knew the sole occupant of this cottage would soon disappear like their previous owner. “Afterall, we have more pressing matters on our hands.”

“Anything else you need to do?”

“I…don’t feel quite up to anymore tasks, Miss.” Hesitantly, Noël glanced back at the wardrobe. “And there’s not much to do here.”

“Finally; now that you’re done moping around, let’s go outside!” Annabelle ecstatically exclaimed as she marched out of the gloomy room, Noël reluctantly trailing behind her. He watched her feet as she carelessly kicked a marble out of the way. It truly felt surreal to be seen by another living creature after so long.