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His fingers were locked on the transmitter we

used in the show, and the doll's head was moving

slightly from side to side as if it were saying, No, no,

no.

I screamed, but he did not awaken.

Panic submerged me in a pool of ice. For a few

moments. I couldn't move, couldn't get my arms or

legs to do anything. Then I reached out to shake him.

His body shook, but his eyes didn't change. They were

so glassy they resembled the Destiny doll's eyes.

Slowly. I brought my fingers to his face. Whe

n I felt

the coldness in his skin, it was as if I had swallowed a

ball of fire that immediately exploded around my

heart.

"Uncle Palaver!" I shouted.

And then I did the strangest thing I thought

possible. I actually turned to the Destiny doll, as if I believed it could somehow help me. The head

continued to move, but slower and slower,

The batteries were running down, I thought. It

might have been triggered hours and hours ago. I

pried the transmitter out of Uncle Palaver's frozentight, hard fingers, and the doll's head stopped

moving.

I didn't know what to do. I just stood there

stupidly looking at my uncle and his life-size doll entwined on the bed like two lovers who had made a

suicide pact and carried it through. The realization of

what had happened sank into me, or rather. I felt as

though I were sinking into it, reality climbing up my

stunned body until it reached my chest and clamped

itself around my torso, making it hard for me to


Tags: V.C. Andrews Shadows Horror