Book Dollhouse Murders Novels & Stories

"Unless you admit that both your parents' deaths were deserved. Admit that you're a failure and that you were never good enough for me. Then transfer all your shares in the company to Hayden. "If you do that, I'll consider saving your mother." "That's outrageous!" the attending physician screamed. "Dr. Lowell, how can you say something like that? Mr. Kirkland has already humbled himself enough. Please just let him and his mother go." Hayden kicked the physician to the ground. "This doesn't concern you. Get lost, or I'll deal with you too!" The physician hit the floor hard. Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth. Even so, he struggled to sit up.

By the window, Neo watched as cars departed from the neighborhood. He reached out, slowly drawing the curtains closed. Picking up the zombie doll from the floor, he placed it on a shelf in the small room. Then he walked over to the cabinet furthest inside and pulled open the drawer. Inside the drawer lay a row of handmade dolls. They were all tattered and strange-looking. Some were missing arms, some had broken legs. Others had their mouths sewn shut, their faces expressionless. These dolls all bore a striking resemblance to Jenny. Neo picked up one of the dolls, looking at its broken arm, his eyes filled with a chilling sense of foreboding.

I just stared at him. "How did she die?" No answer. "What happened to her?" Nothing. "Am I just a replacement for Camilla?" He didn't speak, He didn't move, He just stared out the window like I wasn't there. I turned away. I looked at my own reflection in the glass, My face was pale, My hands were shaking. What the fuck? I had signed a contract to be some man's Doll. I had let him touch me in a red room. I had worn a dead woman's name at a family dinner.

The way she watched Paul with something that looked like hunger, not love. "You're lying," I whispered. The doll laughed. It was a horrible sound—too high, too wet, like a baby choking on milk. "Maybe. But you'll never know, will you? Because you're too scared to try. You've always been too scared. That's why she died. You were too scared to push. You gave up." I threw the holy water. The doll screamed. A long, piercing scream that filled the whole house. Paul came running. The doll was on the floor, its dress smoking, its porcelain face cracked from temple to chin.

Her shoulders trembled. The prosecutor continued. "Forensic analysis shows the child didn't die instantly. If he had received timely medical treatment, his survival rate would have exceeded 70 percent. It was the defendant who personally prevented rescue efforts and directly caused her son's death. "This was not negligence, and it wasn't an accident. It was a premeditated murder. She simply killed the wrong person." Esther's lawyer had no response. In the end, the judge brought down the gavel. Esther Lawson was found guilty of intentional homicide and sentenced to 15 years in prison.

“Their doors were unlocked, Emiriel. Like they’d invited their killer in. Like they’d opened their homes willingly and let death walk through.” A chill ran down my spine. “Go on.” “The bodies were fresh. Some still warm. Whoever did this moved fast, methodically. Room to room, house to house.” His eyes met mine, and I saw something I rarely saw in my brother. Fear. “There was a child. Couldn’t have been more than five. She was holding a doll.” He looked away. “No blood on the doll. Just her throat cut, clean and precise. Like it was nothing.” The room fell silent. Even Rowan had stopped his restless movement, his expression dark.

The courier eventually left. The front door closed once more. And all that remained was a large box in the living room. Hazel stood quietly in front of it. Aurora slowly opened it. Inside was a large dollhouse. Complete with tiny lights and miniature furniture. Exactly the kind of thing a child Hazel's age would love. And she did. Hazel smiled when she saw it. "It's beautiful." Aurora nodded. "Very beautiful." But she could see something else. Hazel was smiling.

The reason I was showing it at this point was that I had no idea this footage existed until recently. The doll was a gift from my parents after I was found. Given that I had been abducted once before, they installed a camera in the doll’s eyes. Little did they know that it ended up recording the actions of the murderer who took their lives. In my previous life, I was so devastated by my parents’ deaths that I never considered Mr. Williams as a suspect. After the police returned the doll to me as an heirloom, I simply sealed it away. It wasn’t until my rebirth that I began to notice something off about him, and only then did I uncover this video.

Sheldon turned on the projector and continued, "This case is very strange. They are all families whose husbands have died. The murderer will always leave the youngest child of the family alive and kill everyone else. The children who survived are 5, 6, 3, and 2 years old respectively." "So, the murderer didn't kill the whole family," Alissa interrupted. "This case is very special because the strangest thing in the case is that the murderer is the dead husband." "What does this mean? There are four serial murders, but the murderer for all cases are the families' respective dead husbands?" Hogward asked in confusion. "Yes, the confession of the five-year-old child, the six-year-old child, and

Inside, the mansion was shrouded in a tranquil silence as its inhabitants slumbered, unaware of the impending nocturnal encounter. In the dimly lit hallway of the mansion, Adeel, the vigilant caretaker, found himself awoken by the insistent chime of the doorbell. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled towards the entrance. With a gentle creek, he swung open the massive door, squinting against the sudden light that poured in from outside. "Khushi?" Adeel's voice held a hint of surprise and concern as he recognized the unexpected visitor standing before him. Khushi, her features partially hidden in the shadows, offered a faint smile. "Good evening, Uncle Adeel. I hope I didn't disturb you."