Mama

Once there was a mother and her child. They both loved wach other very much. But the little girl was ill, and died in the hospital while her mother was reading a book. The mother was grief stricken, and begged the undertakers to post-pone the funeral. The little girl's corpse lay on her bed for several days. The mother was a doll maker, and had made a life-sized doll with white hair and eyes in a white dress. The mother was considered a studier of witchery, and suddenly got an idea. "I will bring her back. For God is no maker of life!" The woman tried various rememdies, but to no avail. Then, one day, she thought of using the doll. "But it will be useless without fertile life-spirit." The mother said. The mother soon took in a orphan girl to live with her. Mother took the girl to the basement, where the Symbol of Samael lay. The orphan was terrified by the heresy of the mother, who was now old and brittle. But mother's love is strong and dangerous to those who stand in the way. The old woman threw the little orphan's body into the center of the circle, where the white doll lay beside her. The orphan's body drained, and her skin draped weak old bones. 

Soon the white doll jerked, and her hands twitched. The mother was overjoyed when it looked at her, despite the cold, dead, whitened look. The mother held the doll, "My daughter! My precious daughter!" The doll craned her head tensely.

"Mama, why is their a dead body?" The mother ignored the doll's question. the doll felt dormant, and a beating, ringing sound crashed in her hollow head. "Mama, it's been fifteen years." The doll pushed away, her mouth jerking into a smile, she held out her hands to the old, pitiful woman, "I was dead, wasn't I? For fifteen years. Now I'm alive, and so is Mama." The doll inched forward. "But Mama is old and frail and weak, after fifteen years..." The doll smiled harder, "That's not right Mama. Mama, fifteen years alive, that's not right, Mama."