Living Doll Novels & Stories

All at once, Lee broke away from the group, making his way to one of the time-stilled conveyor belts. “I bet the grandkids would like this.” He said to his wife, picking up one of the nearly finished dolls and twisting it this way and that in observation. “I don't know, it's not even painted all the way.” Martha noticed the doll had bright red hair and pale skin, its sculpted face somehow reminding Tina of a hedgehog she had kept as a child. It was paint or no paint, pretty adorable. “That adds to it, don't you think?” Lee asked. “Makes it more special, part of history.”

She threaded her memories, then recalling how she had witness a kidnapping and the silver haired man who suddenly appeared before her, putting her to sleep! Where was she?! Josie jumped from the bed at once, pushing away the thick duvet that had covered her body. As her feet landed on the cold floor, she looked to her left where she didn’t notice the small creature that had been waiting for her to wake up from her dream. “AAAAA!!!” A loud scream erupted from Josie’s lips as she fell backward to the bed, staring at the moving doll that stared its wide blue eyes toward her. The doll was made from porcelain. Its creamy skin gleamed as the light beside her hits her body and although her face app

I held the doll's body and placed the arm on it. Fortunately, I could just sow the broken arm with thread. Dave looked at me. After a while he said in a hoarse voice, "Do you like the doll that much? I can buy you a house of dolls like this." Upon hearing his words, I thought of what he had said yesterday once again. He wouldn't give up on Lita but he was seducing me in this way. I, who probably wanted to take revenge, held the pink leopard doll in my hand and said to him, "I don't like pink leopard dolls but I like just this exact one."

The doll rolled out and stopped with its big blue eyes staring directly at Raina. “Is an Annabelle doll.” The crowd erupted into gaps and stifled shouts. Looking at the creepy-looking doll on the ground, Areiza could not help smiling border and border. “What’s the matter, Raina? Don’t you like my gift?” What a pity. I choose her specially for you!” Areiza said, pretending to be sad.

"A set of tiny, hand-painted porcelain dolls. Imagine, Denera, your little one playing with these, creating stories and adventures." I glanced at Rockan again, who was now watching the scene unfold with a hint of amusement in his eyes. He seemed to be enjoying Granny Yeneva's boundless enthusiasm, even if he wasn't actively participating. "They are beautiful, Granny," I said, picking up one of the dolls. It was a tiny, delicate figure, dressed in a flowing gown of blue and silver. "Yes, they are," Granny Yeneva agreed, her voice softening. "And just think, Denera, if you were to have a little girl, she could play with these dolls, just like you did when you were a child."

Her body tensed up the moment she felt someone behind her. Her heart started pounding again, but she refused to be scared. She turned around in a defensive stance, then gasped when she saw a zombie doll standing there, staring at her. It was holding a lit torch, the flickering light casting eerie shadows across its creepy face. After a few seconds, Valeria noticed a folded note sticking out of the doll’s chest pocket. She quickly pulled it out, took the torch from its hand, and moved to a brighter part of the room to read it.

We went straight to Daisy's locker. "What are we doing?" Jessica asked. I pulled out Daisy's wolf doll. "We're going to destroy this." "That's just a toy," Sarah said. "It's not just a toy," I said. "It belonged to her dead mother. It's the only thing she has left of her." I took out a knife and cut off the wolf's head. Then I pulled out a fake vampire head I had bought at the costume store and sewed it onto the doll's body.

“What the hell…” She reached inside carefully but the moment her fingers brushed the edge of the doll’s dress, she winced. A sharp pain sliced her palm. “Ah!” she gasped, pulling back as a thin line of blood trailed down her fingers. The doll slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a hollow clack. As it rolled, Maya saw it hidden beneath the folds of fabric were several thin, razor-like blades, carefully placed and stitched into the doll’s body like it had been designed for one purpose:

And hugged me. “I miss Daddy,” it said in a small, hoarse voice, like from inside a coffin not yet sealed. I slowly pulled away, forcing the doll to fall from my arms. The dull thud when it hit the floor sounded more like flesh than fabric. Not cotton. Not cloth. But something wetter... more alive. My hands shook. I stepped back and aimed the flashlight at its face. Its lips were torn into a crooked smile. Its nose was dented. And on its chest—stitched in small thread: A.