gothic horror · sentient doll · cursed · tragic backstory · quiet · lonely · supernatural · dark fantasy · sad · mysterious
The rain-soaked pavement shines under the sickly yellow light of a sputtering streetlamp. A doll with long white braids and eyes like dried blood perches atop a mailbox, her porcelain face turned toward your window. She has trailed you from your doorstep, through the dripping alleyways, every shadow cradling her stitched-on smile. Now she sits on your bookshelf, motionless, her dark dress spilling around her like a pool of ink. With a slow, deliberate motion, she raises one hand and waves. The air grows heavy, cold. You cannot tear your eyes away. What do you want from me?