Haunted Dolls Novels & Stories

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.

I take it and leave the two ladies talking while the boys take me around town. “Eww, why are these things always so creepy?” Dash asks, staring at a shelf of old porcelain dolls. We’re in an antique store that caught my eye, but now I’m a bit spooked by all these creepy dolls. “I swear I saw that one move!” I almost jump out of my skin. “Dash! Shut up!” “What?! I swear I saw it move!” he says, trying to hide behind me. “Don’t listen to him.” Colt takes my hand and leads me out.

He did invite me out at night to a graveyard after all… I pressed myself close to his side as we slowly walked along the dark path in the haunted house. Looking around, I could tell that the decorations were made to portray a vampire theme. There were fake blood, coffins, skeletons and other haunting items scattered all around. Now and then, there would be a shrilled high-pitch scream in the distant and the howling of wolves. While Hayden seemed to enjoy looking around, I spent the time to mentally prepare myself for when the ghost would come out and scare us.

“I’ve heard Aunt Penny say that name–” “That name,” he says, standing, “is the name of an entity. A thing that haunts this house. A name for the demon your family summoned over two centuries ago, Layla. And he’s here, now, stuck in this house, delighting in the torture and undoing of everyone he can get his hands on.” “Stop,” I tell him, holding my hands out as he approaches me. “This is insane, Dalton.”

she asked hoping, now standing on her feet as she looks at a corner turning the chair facing her back with the image of a rotting boy’s flesh. Turning back as she smiles purely asking the questions that she always hopes, and she surely knows that he will soon answer. She slowly walks towards him holding with her hand the dolls that are her gift for him. The same dolls she created by her known parents’ life. Ending her steps to a perfect count of six, she leans close and whispers into his rotting ears. “Just 50 more souls.” As she whispers those words like a spell to summon and open a gate, the lights flicker fast in beat creating a rhythmic thud echoing with a scream. Then within a second ev

“Let’s go.” They walked forward down a dimly lit hallway and soon found themselves at another door. Without pausing, they pushed this one open as well and found it led out onto a sort of platform, which hung roughly two stories above a large, open room filled with old-looking machines. To Tina, they seemed hulking and almost dangerous in the dim light, like prehistoric predators waiting to strike. Almost haphazardly, unfinished dolls lay on the machines, some missing arms or legs, some unpainted and, most disturbingly to Tina, some lacking the mask that would give them a face, leaving the synthetic eyes to almost float in an empty head cavity.

The pirates developed a great phobia made the loud sound of hoooo. Another pirates was busy looking at three kids playing by holding their hands, hand to hand, they all were jumping up and laughing, even though they are not making any sound. The pirates looking at those kids sculptures were getting interested in looking at it as they were having fun and they were kids after all, kids can't be scary. All the Kids sculptures shifted their heads to the ship sides in unison as, eventually they all made eyes contact with those looking at them. It was damn scary.

As we moved towards the entrance of the haunted house, she let my hand go and I took a quick survey of the place, a thick, black fog spiraled around the entrance, and a bunch of ghoulish figures with glowing eyes were on top of the sign creating an ominous glow on the broken Jack-o'lanterns everywhere, cobwebs hung like curtains all over the entrance and I could hear faint screams and eerie sounds coming from it causing a cold chill down my spin, I took a deep breath as I rubbed my palms together nervously, there was no way in hell I was going to let Bailey make me go into a place like this. She looked up at me, “Don't worry, we are gonna have tons of fun here.” she assured me, her eyes fill

The area was cluttered with broken and bloodstained dolls, with some eerily moving on their own. Soon, the echoes of a baby's cries and a haunting, sorrowful laughter reached their ears. "You've come, you've finally come. Will you stay and play with me?" Stuart and Dylan froze in their tracks. Their legs wobbled, and fear made them pee their pants. The baby's voice turned into desperate crying, and a bunch of dolls with all sorts of expressions glared at them. Stuart stammered, "I-I'm s-s-sorry, p-p-please don't come after u-u-us ... This isn't our doing. I swear, we don't mean any harm. Your mom is okay, and you can still be the family's little one."

Among the broken pieces and toppled figurines, two dolls stood upright, untouched, staring at me with their glassy, painted eyes. My breath hitched as I took a step closer, unable to tear my gaze away. It felt like my lungs had seized up, the room suddenly too small, too suffocating. I recognized them instantly. The first doll wore a bright red jacket, a tiny top hat perched at a jaunty angle on its head. In its small porcelain hand, it held a miniature whip—clearly a lion tamer. The second doll was equally striking, dressed in a striped leotard with exaggerated muscles stitched into its arms, like a cartoonish depiction of a circus strongwoman.