Abandoned Doll Novels & Stories

--- From the strain of holding everything contained. --- “We don’t have much time,” Adrian said sharply. --- A pause. --- “This place is breaking apart.” --- Victor’s gaze snapped toward the fractures. --- “The core can’t sustain isolation for long,” he said. --- A beat. --- “If it collapses completely…” --- Everything inside— --- Would collapse with it. --- Including them. --- Elena looked at the presence. --- Still standing. --- Still certain. --- Still believing it had already won. --- “This isn’t the end,” it said quietly.

Jacob yelled before shaking his head. He first looked at Molly’s palm, which was not bleeding much, then at the pup in the corner. The little one had shrunk away into a corner after being thrown aside. It was trembling and whimpering while looking at all the strangers. “Where did this brat come from?” Jacob frowned. “That brat bit Molly!” Elizabeth suddenly strode over and kicked the pup. It flew into the wall with a yelp. “What are you doing?!” I pushed her away and shielded the pup behind me before she could hurt it again.

Rebecca gasped, feigning horror, her hand flying to her mouth. She stumbled backward theatrically, her foot coming down hard on one fragment, grinding the delicate stone into glittering dust against the floor. "Auntie's ashes! Moon Goddess, NO! They're... they're ruined!" Another clumsy, deliberate step crunched the second piece under her heel.

She replied and chuckled. When they were busy with their secret talks, the little girl Abigail was listening to their whole talk from the door right outside the room while her eyes were trying to peek inside from the little opening. Her one hand carries a small doll which was given by her parents to her. So she carries the doll everywhere almost. Abigail is the girl they came to adopt. She's only ten years old. A cute and sweet little girl. When in the early morning, she got the news that her father's relatives wanted her to adopt. She was so happy and grateful. But now listening to their words she was upset. She came here to look at them out of curiosity. But hearing them. She's no more exc

++++++++++ Another one of my witch ex-friends had a favorite toy… She liked it so much, that she brought it to her dorm that’s inside the campus. I’m not sure which residence hall that was but it’s in a fairly high-end one. This toy was a hard plastic doll that had long blond-brown hair and dark blue eyes that closed whenever you put it down on its back. This doll has a lot of stories connected to it since my friend is so proud of her. This is her favorite out of all of them: Back when she was around 5-6 years old, she had a nanny who was extremely mean. She was the type who seemed like an angel when in front of her parents but became demon-like when they were alone.

His smile wide, full of joy. My stomach turned. My mother hissed and shoved the tablet back at my sister. She looked at me with disgust. “So, this is the man you threw your life away for? This is the man you trusted with your body, with your future? He has abandoned you in front of the whole world, Anna. And now you want me to take care of you and his unwanted child?” I shook my head violently, tears spilling again despite my exhaustion. “No! Mom, please listen. I can raise this child. I will. Just give me time. Don’t throw me away like he did. Please, Mom, you’re all I have left.”

Its stitched mouth hung open, the threads unraveling into something that almost looked like a smile. Her breath stuttered in her chest. It was wrong. Too wrong. Not because the doll was old, but because it wasn’t old enough. The settlement had been abandoned for decades, maybe longer. Yet the doll’s fabric still carried traces of faded color, its limbs not yet fully decayed. It shouldn’t have been here. She took a half-step toward it, as if in a trance, before Joel’s arm shot out, barring her path. “Don’t,” he said sharply. His voice was low, but the command in it cut through her daze like a blade.

We were crammed into a shitty apartment that stank of mold and sewage. Outside the window, we could hear the shouts of our enemies hunting for him. Inside, we had a single, paint-chipped pistol. He sat on the floor, covered in blood, in the dark and cramped room. He never knew that the innocent girl in the white dress before him had all but disowned her family and abandoned her name for him. "Rosalie, are you sure about this?" His eyes then were like those of a cornered, lone wolf, his voice trembling.

“If you don't accept what he sees as generosity, he'll feed you to the wolves. Most likely, he abandoned Doll to the chaos of a Rodeo gone sour. Instead of getting their money back, the toms were given free rein to do whatever they wanted to your no-fur. Afterwards, Doll would have been taken here. To the scrap heap." Guru's breath caught in his throat as they came upon a bunch of high piles of scrap metal and old two-by-fours. On top of several were what looked like mummified no-furs in decaying wrappings. Some looked to have only been here a few days, others could have been laid out here for months. One stood out in the fading moonlight, one that looked to b

“I’ll leave a souvenir for you, my sweet doll,” Craving her skin, he got up, admiring her naked frame, bloodied and lifeless as her blank eyes looked at the sky, tears running down her cheeks. Amara sniffled watching herself. Abigail zipped his pants and walked away. Amara felt immense hatred for that man. She crouched beside her dismantled frame and cried.