Horror Doll
I keep a mermaid, and she looks exactly like me.
She is me, and yet she isn't me.
1
The moment I walked into that aquarium store, my eyes lit up. I hadn't been there in days, and the tanks had new arrivals—striking fish of all kinds swaying gracefully within, creating vivid paintings against the backdrop of seaweed, fine sand, coral, and artificial sunlight.
But on second glance, I frowned. These tanks were lovely, but perhaps too small. Would Mona be cramped inside one?
"Nothing catch your eye?" The owner greeted me familiarly. "We've got some new stock in the back—you might find something you like."
In the warehouse, I found even larger and more beautiful tanks. One acrylic ecological aquarium in particular made me gasp...
It was gorgeous—like a crystal coffin shimmering with flowing light!
This was the one. Mona would definitely love it! Without hesitation, I swiped my card and paid.
"You just changed the tank last week, didn't you?" the owner couldn't help asking as I left. "What kind of fish are you raising that grows so fast?"
"Hehe, a mermaid," I replied.
He must have thought I was joking.
But I wasn't—Mona really was a mermaid.
She was only about two years old, though—plump and round as a little ball.
That was just the prelude to her transformation. In a few months, she'd be fully developed, becoming a stunning beauty with curves just like mine!
2
A month ago, I'd had the misfortune of getting my heart broken. I took a few days off and went on a solo trip to Thailand, hoping to heal my wounds through travel.
Wandering the exotic streets of Bangkok, I stumbled into a narrow alley by accident. The lane was deep and secluded, almost devoid of people. Just as I was starting to feel lost, a light appeared ahead. I walked toward it and found an antique-looking shop.
The shop seemed quite old—the paint on its carved wooden door was peeling, revealing the mottled grain underneath. What delighted me, though, was that the door bore several familiar Chinese characters: Heartbreak Doll Shop.
Perhaps it was the word "heartbreak" that moved me. I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The shop was quiet inside, with only two elderly women in traditional Chinese tunics sitting within. When they saw me enter, they smiled and rose, welcoming me.
They had identical faces—like copies of each other. Their clothes and mannerisms were also oddly matched. They had to be twin sisters.
One of the women kindly brought me a cup of black tea, while the other enthusiastically introduced me to the shop's services...
They possessed a miraculous potion that could replicate human genes!
3
"Just soak one of your fingernails in the potion, and it will quickly develop into an embryo, then complete the transformation from nail to full-grown adult in ten months."
"She will stay by your side forever, sharing life's joys and sorrows with you. You won't have to worry about her betraying or hurting you the way love does, because she is you, and you are her—you are one and the same."
With that, the two old women clasped each other's hands. "You see, without men, we still live quite well."
This, then, was the meaning of the Heartbreak Doll Shop.
Love is fickle, men are unreliable. In this world, the only person you can truly depend on is yourself...
But such a "doll" must be expensive. I probably couldn't afford it.
"We didn't open this shop to make money, but to help those who've been wounded by love," the old woman saw through my thoughts and smiled. "Because we've also been heartbroken—we know that tearing pain. The fact that you found your way here today means we have a connection, and we're willing to help you, free of charge, so you can step out of the shadow of heartbreak as soon as possible!" She placed a bottle of potion in my hands.
I looked at the potion, half-believing, half-doubting...
Was it truly that miraculous?
4
Back at the hotel, driven by curiosity, I clipped one of my fingernails and dropped it into the bottle of potion, then took a shower and went to bed.
That night, I had a dream. I dreamed that inside the bottle, the fingernail was quietly undergoing a transformation. It became an embryo, growing and expanding wildly...
The tiny bottle could no longer contain its body.
With a "pop," the bottle shattered. It broke free of its constraints and became a grotesque monster...
The monster bared its fangs, lunging at me ferociously, extending sharp claws that locked tightly around my throat...
I woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. I reached up to touch my neck—it felt faintly sore.
Once I'd collected myself, I went to check on the bottle. The fingernail was gone, replaced by a soybean-sized object. Inside the nearly transparent skin, a black dot pulsed rhythmically... Was that a beating heart?
My God, it really had become an embryo!
Thinking of my nightmare, a violent shiver ran through me. I grabbed the bottle and ran to the bathroom, planning to flush it down the toilet...
Just then, a sharp pain in my chest forced me to stop, gripping the edge of the sink.
The old woman's weathered voice echoed in my ears: "Once it becomes an embryo, it has life. Just like an ordinary person, it begins to grow and develop. It's your replica—another you. You'll share a connection, feeling each other's sensations..."
So, was it scared just now?
In the bottle, the embryo trembled uneasily.
My deliberately hardened heart gradually softened...
5
When I opened my eyes again, it was morning. Overnight, the tiny embryo had grown a head and a tail, like an evolving tadpole...
I looked at it with mixed emotions... or rather, at "her"!
This sudden little life left me at a loss. I honestly didn't know how to live with her...
In the end, I decided to accept her. As the old woman had said—this was destiny.
So I cut my trip short and boarded a flight home.
Back home, I followed the old woman's instructions and placed her in a fish tank filled with clean water.
Her body changed every second, like a flower bud straining to bloom. In the quiet of the night, I could almost hear the cracking of her bones as they grew—yet she slept peacefully, as if none of this had anything to do with her...
6
On the morning of the tenth day, I woke up and found her eyes open!
Through the gentle artificial waves and the glass wall, she sucked her finger and looked at me curiously, her eyes big and bright, glittering like exotic black gemstones.
I cried.
She was me—the childhood version of me.
What could be more stirring than watching your own growth unfold before your eyes?
That day, I gave her a name: Mona.
I was Melody, she was Mona. Melody and Mona—what a beautiful pair!
Mona grew even faster than I'd expected. By the one-month mark, she'd reached the size of a two-year-old and had even automatically downloaded language functions, babbling back and forth with me in conversation.
For instance, that morning she pouted her little lips and said in her milky voice, "This place is too cramped! I want a nice big house!"
So I went to the aquarium store and bought that acrylic ecological tank.
7
When the tank was delivered, Mona was thrilled. She swam about excitedly inside, like a lively little fish.
The next day, I introduced some companions—a school of beautiful, gentle tropical fish. That way, she wouldn't be bored when I wasn't home.
That evening after work, I went to check on her as usual, only to find the tropical fish were gone—Mona was the only one left in the tank. When she heard me calling, she slowly turned her head...
My God, what did I see?
Her chewing mouth still had half a fish tail wriggling inside!
She'd eaten them all!
I was dumbfounded.
It turned out that she wasn't the same as me after all.
No matter how much she looked like me, she wasn't truly human!
8
Once she'd gotten a taste, she demanded fish every day.
I bought fish from the market and cooked them for her, but she knocked the plate over—she wanted them alive.
"Mona, no!" I told her. "You're a person, not an animal!"
"Then I'd rather not be a person—I'll be an animal!" she scoffed, lips curling.
Slap—I gave her a smack across the face.
She was stunned.
So was I.
It was our first fight.
For days, we were both miserable.
In the end, Mona relented. She tugged at the hem of my shirt with her little hand and said pitifully, "Melody, I was wrong. I won't make you mad again. Please don't ignore me, okay?"
I forgave her.
She was still just a child.