The Whispering Doll
It was a cold winter night when Sophie, a 13-year-old girl, sat alone in her room. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Her parents were downstairs, busy with work, leaving her to her thoughts and her favorite pastime: playing with her dolls.
Sophie had always loved dolls, especially one she inherited from her grandmother - an old porcelain doll with piercing blue eyes. Its hair was a bit tangled, and its dress was dusty, but Sophie thought it was beautiful. She named it "Lucinda."
One evening, as Sophie played with Lucinda, she heard something strange. A soft whisper. At first, she thought it was the wind, but then it came again, clearer this time.
"Help me?"
Sophie froze. Her room was still, except for the soft creak of the house settling. She looked at Lucinda, who was sitting on her shelf. The doll's eyes seemed to shine in the dim light, as though they were watching her.
The whisper came again.
"Help me?"
Sophie's heart raced, but she convinced herself it was just her imagination. That is until she saw the doll move. Lucinda's head tilted slightly, her eyes never leaving Sophie's.
Terrified, Sophie picked up the doll, her hands trembling. "What do you want from me?" she whispered.
Suddenly, the room temperature dropped, and the whispers grew louder. "Let me out?"
Sophie stumbled backward, dropping the doll onto the floor. As it hit the ground, the lights flickered, and for a split second, Sophie saw a shadowy figure - tall and thin - looming in the corner of her room.
The figure was gone the moment the lights returned, but the doll was gone too.
Panicking, Sophie searched her room but found no trace of Lucinda. The whispers stopped, but an unsettling silence filled the air. Sophie couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her.
As she left her room to find her parents, Sophie glanced at the hallway mirror. Behind her reflection, she saw it. The doll. Standing at the top of the stairs, smiling.
And in that moment, Sophie understood: Lucinda had never been just a doll. She had been waiting for the right moment, and now, Sophie was part of her game.
Sophie's parents never found her that night. They only found the doll, sitting in her room, its eyes eerily fixed on the door.
It was a cold winter night when Sophie, a 13-year-old girl, sat alone in her room. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Her parents were downstairs, busy with work, leaving her to her thoughts and her favorite pastime: playing with her dolls.
Sophie had always loved dolls, especially one she inherited from her grandmother - an old porcelain doll with piercing blue eyes. Its hair was a bit tangled, and its dress was dusty, but Sophie thought it was beautiful. She named it "Lucinda."
One evening, as Sophie played with Lucinda, she heard something strange. A soft whisper. At first, she thought it was the wind, but then it came again, clearer this time.
"Help me?"
Sophie froze. Her room was still, except for the soft creak of the house settling. She looked at Lucinda, who was sitting on her shelf. The doll's eyes seemed to shine in the dim light, as though they were watching her.
The whisper came again.
"Help me?"
Sophie's heart raced, but she convinced herself it was just her imagination. That is until she saw the doll move. Lucinda's head tilted slightly, her eyes never leaving Sophie's.
Terrified, Sophie picked up the doll, her hands trembling. "What do you want from me?" she whispered.
Suddenly, the room temperature dropped, and the whispers grew louder. "Let me out?"
Sophie stumbled backward, dropping the doll onto the floor. As it hit the ground, the lights flickered, and for a split second, Sophie saw a shadowy figure - tall and thin - looming in the corner of her room.
The figure was gone the moment the lights returned, but the doll was gone too.
Panicking, Sophie searched her room but found no trace of Lucinda. The whispers stopped, but an unsettling silence filled the air. Sophie couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her.
As she left her room to find her parents, Sophie glanced at the hallway mirror. Behind her reflection, she saw it. The doll. Standing at the top of the stairs, smiling.
And in that moment, Sophie understood: Lucinda had never been just a doll. She had been waiting for the right moment, and now, Sophie was part of her game.
Sophie's parents never found her that night. They only found the doll, sitting in her room, its eyes eerily fixed on the door.
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