Spiritual Doll Novels & Stories

— Don’t hate me little one, what we did was necessary. — It was necessary ... - I repeat sarcastically. - You had to convince the fat, blind girl of how much you wanted her, right? You had to fuck me all the time, right? I bit my lip to keep from crying. There was something else, there is always something else. — You'll justify yourself by saying that there was no other way to contact Yoleandra but, don't you know what a fucking tabla de Ouija is?! - I shout. — It doesn't work like that, precious. It had to be through you, you were the only one whom the spirit of the Sorceress could possess. You are her heiress, her reincarnation, you know that.

A cold chill tousled through the hairs on the back of my neck and filtered down my spine, prompting me to spin around and make it back towards the front of the door when my eyes were drawn into something I had not really noticed previously. A dazzling porcelain doll sat competently on a rocking chair, facing my direction. She initially appeared to be expensive and visually striking, as if she has a million bolts of charm and glamour lurking beneath her smile. Her ocean-blue eyes have depths of innocence in them, and it seemed as though an inevitable gravity was dragging me in to explore those vast sets of orbs.

I was trying to sympathize with a ghost. "So... Are you looking to pass on?" I was unsure how to proceed. The only thing I had to go off of was movies or shows that I had seen, and they usually mention finding the light. Was that a real thing? "I have been trying to find out what I need to do to pass over, but up until now, no such luck I am afraid." Jesse held up his hands and shrugged. We stood there, in the small room staring at one another. Jesse watched me with concern, and I stood there trying not to completely lose my mind.

And just like in my dream, I also didn't feel that my body is being burned when I entered the cage even though the bars seemed to be burning. "The sacred cage of my teacher! You have entered the sacred cage without being burned. You are the reincarnation of my teacher! You are also our goddess!" Old Remi exclaimed as her eyes widened while looking at me. I didn't pay attention to what she said because I saw that the monster was going to attack me again.

They killed themselves with their own hands, stating that without Moon with them, their lives were useless. Their remains combined with the air itself, and Moon thought with disbelief that, "Am I with my mother and father?" Doll has his index and middle finger of her right hand on her temples. That was a spell she would use if she want to communicate with the deceased spirits. Right now, she was conversing with Moon's Parents, and she wanted to mend Moon's anger towards them. She knew that Moon was told with lies, and she was believing that only his parents can convince their son, so she called them to give flashbacks to Moon.

I know in time all this training would come in handy if any situation would arise and will find myself in between. He wasn’t here, of course. But words may travel much more quickly than any disease, and he’ll know about my fight. That I wasn’t just any porcelain doll used for display only. Fragile and precious that always needed protection. I am not just an ordinary pet doll. I position myself in the middle of the ring, squaring my stance. The bell tolled and I braced myself as my opponent delivers the first move. This doll will fight and will win no matter what.

No more wails to be had— The feminine form touches herself and shudders deliciously upon her sculpted throne of mortar and bones. She knows the girl can see other worlds; observing them even as they observe back. Knows the immense threat the girl poses. She stretches and stands, urinates down bare legs. Dripping in exhilaration, this creature’s wildish floor-length hair lifts and swirls about her as she begins her scheming. Holding intercourse with the dead. She calls on something then, calls it forth from some ink-black place into birth, and listens with leering smile as it shrieks out miserably at its own hopeless fate in the darkness of the ruin’s attic above.

"Good night, doll." The familiar nickname made her smile. "Good night, Leaf." This time, neither of them moved away. And as the silence settled around them once more, Sahara found herself hoping that maybe—just maybe—this was what peace felt like.

this man's wife, he lived to protect her, in the midst of the farewell ceremony. Even though after death, she never wanted to abandon her, giving a new chance to live being immaterial amid a bond with her musical instrument, for ages during the time before prison and war, there was a living puppet factory, which they were used as anchors for so-called spirit games. As for the woman who was a shaman and manipulator of spirits, she didn't want to be without her man, due to the low number of controllers, avatars and even without the exact number of anchors and magical ventriloquism dolls.

Leon furrowed his brow, confused. "Why would it be harder for us to deal with the doll just because it's been worshipped?" "Guardian spirits are relics of the past," Aria said, her tone indifferent. "A doll steeped in offerings and prayers is bound to become difficult." She continued, her tone steady. "Spirits draw life from belief. The more worshippers they gather, the stronger they become. That same bond holds, even in something as lifeless as a doll."