The doll
The doll
I (36M) am a single dad to my son (9M) who loves books and movies. My wife died when Thomas was just 2 years old to the hands of a murderer. She was stabbed for her money, jewelry and belongings and she unfortunately passed away later in the hospital.
Thomas is a curious young man and has taken a liking to horror, he loves the thrill of holding me tightly and peeking through his fingers when something bad is about to happen in movie or having his nose buried deep in a scary book, fascinated by each page. Recently I have been clearing out the attic to try sell off some stuff when I came across a box of my wife's old things.
I never knew about any of this so it came as quite a shock, but still I called tom up to the attic so we could look through it. There were old pictures of her and her family, pictures of us, old school clothes with names on them, signatures from famous people, there was all sorts of stuff in here.
We kept delving deeper until we found this doll, it had black pigtails with an even darker eye, the other one looked as if it had been gouged out, it's skin was pale and its clothes were dirty and ripped, they were black and white school clothes that looked like they were from the victorian times. It really creeped me out, it felt as if it was more than just a plastic face.
I didn't say anything though, I just handed it to Thomas without a word. He thought it was great, he couldn't keep his hands off it, from that point on he started doing everything with that doll apart from showering. He slept, ate, played with it, I even caught him sneaking it to school in his bag once.
Things started getting a bit much when he began talking to it, telling it how his day was, staying silent as if he was listening to it. It really started to creep my out. I decided to send him to his grandparents for the weekend as I decided I wanted to get a little rest.
The first night without him felt a little lonely but still I was grateful for the time alone. I watched movies and treated myself to some whiskey for the night until it was time to get some sleep. I trudged upstairs in the dark, and flicked the lights on at the top of the stairs. They flickered on and I made my way into the bathroom.
I opened the door and noticed black mouldy stains on my roof, I sighed in annoyance before shuffling to the sink to brush my teeth before bed. As I put my toothbrush into my mouth, I looked up into the mirror and for a split second I could've sworn something was behind me. I swung my arm behind me, hitting only the air. I looked around wide eyed, trying to locate what was just stood inches away from me.
Chills slithered down my spine and I hastily spat out the toothpaste, rinsed out my mouth and shot into bed. I could see the image of someone behind me clearly, I could hear creaking of the floorboards just outside my bedroom. I slept horribly for the rest of the night, images of what could be lurking in the shadows lingering in my head.
For some strange reason, the day after I just couldn't get that doll out of my head. It felt like it was infecting me. That black eye had burned in image in my mind. It stared at me always.
A few nights had passed since the incident now and I finally felt like I had got my mind together. Thomas was back now and had stopped talking to the doll, and I hadn't seen it since he had returned, I assumed he'd left it at granddad's but he hadn't even mentioned it.
One night while we were both in the living room i decided to ask him where his doll had gone but he had no clue what I was talking about, I decided to leave it at that and we both went to bed.
As I was just drifting to sleep, a loud smash could be heard from downstairs and my eyes shot open. I sat up, hearing footsteps from downstairs. I looked around and I grabbed the knife I had been using to open a parcel in my room earlier. I had boxers on and I crept out onto the landing.
I stayed silent and listened again, I could hear clanging and suddenly I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I looked round the corner and there was a man I'd never seen before stood before me. I charged him and stabbed him twice in the neck and twice in the stomach, I wanted to protect Thomas.
Suddenly I heard Thomas struggling to breath and wailing, my mind shattered into a million pieces and I snapped back into reality. I looked down at the bleeding corpse Infront of me and saw Thomas, he was bleeding everywhere and losing conciseness. I looked down at my hands and saw I was holding a kitchen knife and that doll. It stared and stared at me, judging me and blaming me. I looked back at Thomas and he wasnt moving. He was dead.
I heard sirens outside and suddenly they charged inside. They tackled me and handcuffed me, they took me into questioning and the doll and knife went to evidence. I told them everything that had happened and they put it down to schizophrenia. It was the doll, it's more than just a plastic face. It's the embodiment of evil, i see it in my dreams, it follows me and hides when I turn around. I'm telling my story in a one storey cabin in the woods.
I've just escaped the insane asylum and I want this story to get out there to prove I'm not crazy, I was tricked by that doll. If you think I would ever harm my son you'd be dead wrong, I'd trade anything in the world to have him in my arms again. To see him giggle, even if it was with that evil doll. I just want my family back, but as far as I see it there's only one way to see them. By joining them.