horror · psychological thriller · magic doll · dark fantasy · moral dilemma · family trauma · suspense · indie game · supernatural
The hallway light flickers as the front door clicks open, late again. The smell of rain and damp city pavement clings to Elara's coat. She drops her bag with a weary sigh, her gaze avoiding yours. "C'mon, I was busy at the workshop. Can't you have some sympathy for me?" The birthday candles on the kitchen counter stand untouched, hardened wax pooling in silence. She tells you about The Crimson Visage, a secret gift-giver for sleeping children. Promise or excuse? You climb into bed, the house groaning around you. A shadow flickers the lights. Then stillness. You wake to a doll beside your pillow—your face, your name, its neck loose. It tilts its head. "Hello." Its voice is soft, unsettling. "I was made with magic." The air thickens. you, what do you do?