Screatures Doll #40 is Clara, haunted by the mouldering, moss-choked bones of her deceased husband.

A year ago to the day of the tragic death of her first husband, a sweet bridesmaid helped Clara into a stunning lace wedding gown while the bride admired herself in the ornate mirror. Although her solemn black widow's weeds had become her, the townsfolk all agreed she was too young and much too beautiful to remain in mourning forever. They didn't think twice about the swift courtship between Clara and her wealthy new paramour.

But at noon, as the wedding bells chimed cherfully and echoed across the village from their steepled belltower to herald Clara's union with her latest husband, the skeletal remains of her late husband clattered up the cathedral steps towards the newlyweds, bringing with him a gathering of ominous thunder clouds and the scent of decaying bones...

His impossible, raspy, hollow voice cried out for revenge against Clara, for his demise had been no accident... his bride, on the night of their union, had insisted on taking a midnight stroll through the woods where she'd done away with him with a sharp knife, in ice cold blood, and hidden his corpse in the deep hollow of an ancient, twisted oak. The body was never recovered, but his shredded, gore-stained clothes were, leading all to believe he'd died by one of the many wild beasts that lurked in the forest. The dead man's fortune was now Clara's... but his soul was betrayed and festered in anguish as the woods consumed his rotting corpse.

Just how the vengeful bones returned from beyond the grave remains a mystery, but from that day on they haunt Clara, rob her of sleep, of solitude, syphon her energy and bestow upon her nothing but soul-chilling terror. The murderous wretch has been driven quite mad by the constant rattle of bones, by the dead man's whispered curses, by the scrape of cold, hard fingers that force her to keep shambling through the trees, unable to escape the burden of her heartless actions.

To this day she can be seen wandering the woods like a wraith, still clad in her wedding gown, with torment flashing in her wide green eyes which can do nothing but watch the townsfolk fleeing when she attempts to venture towards the village, crying in desperation for help. And from afar, the man who had been her new husband for less than a few minutes thanked the angels above that the demonic skeleton saved him from a similar, fatal fate at the hands of the gorgeous but greedy, young killer... Clara...

90s vintage porcelain doll with cloth torso, wearing a lace gown handmade by me, with antique lace sleeves and waist. Faded rose garland in her hair. Original sculpted shoes and satin and lace bloomers. No part of her outfit is removable.

She's had full faceup, hair, eye and lash transplant, with long silky wavy hair that trails the ground with the train of her gown.

Comes with metal stand and her skeletal first husband (I call him Fermin, but you can rename him- he won't mind as long as he keeps getting his revenge on Clara), who was hand painted and decorated by me. He is fairly poseable but will not stand alone,  and does come off Clara's shoulders should you wish to display him elsewhere.

Clara measures 43cm tall.

One of a kind.

Both are art dolls, designed for display only. They are not toys, nor are they suitable for children.

Thank you for viewing my creation. If you have any questions or comments please message me xox