The Doll

“Hey, Iris, you up?” Ava said

“Barely. It’s midnight, Ava. What’s going on?”

“You know that old doll I told you about? The one from the thrift store?”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me. What now?”

“It... moved.”

Iris sighed. “Ava, we’ve been through this. It’s just your imagination. Or gravity. Or, I don’t know, the house settling?”

“I’m serious, Iris! It was on my desk when I went to bed, and now it’s on the floor by my closet. I didn’t move it.”

“Maybe it fell?”

“Nope. It’s standing upright.”

Silence. Then: “Okay. That’s weird.”

~~~~~

By 12:15, Iris was at Ava’s apartment, her coat thrown hastily over her pajamas.

“Alright, show me the doll,” Iris demanded, trying to sound braver than she felt.

Ava hesitated, pointing toward her bedroom. “It’s... in there.”

“You left it alone?”

“Of course! I’m not about to hang out with the thing!”

Rolling her eyes, Iris pushed the door open. The doll sat innocently on the floor, its painted blue eyes staring vacantly ahead. It was old—cracked porcelain, faded fabric dress, and wild, wiry hair.

“That’s... creepy,” Iris admitted, kneeling to inspect it.

“See? I wasn’t lying!” Ava whispered from the hallway.

“It’s just a doll, Ava. Maybe you bumped it and forgot?”

“I didn’t,” Ava hissed.

As Iris stood, the room’s atmosphere shifted. A faint sound—like distant giggling—echoed through the apartment.

“Did you hear that?” Ava whispered.

“Yeah,” Iris said slowly.

The closet door creaked open.

Ava gasped, clutching Iris’s arm.

“Probably the wind,” Iris said, though her voice trembled.

“We’re inside, Iris.”

Determined to prove Ava wrong, Iris grabbed the doll and placed it back on the desk.

“There. See? It’s fine,” she said firmly.

Ava shook her head, backing out of the room.

“You don’t understand. This started a week ago. I think it’s haunted.”

“Haunted? Really?” Iris scoffed.

But as they turned to leave, a loud thump came from behind them.

They spun around. The doll was on the floor again, this time lying face down.

Ava screamed.

“Iris, let’s get out of here!”

“Wait! Just—hold on,” Iris said, though her confidence was waning. She crouched to pick up the doll.

Before she could touch it, the doll’s head snapped to the side.

Both girls froze.

Then the doll spoke, its tiny mouth parting: “Play with me.”

Ava bolted for the door. Iris wasn’t far behind, slamming it shut as they stumbled into the hallway.

“Okay, okay,” Iris panted. “You win. It’s haunted. Now what?”

“I don’t know! Burn it? Bury it? Exorcise it?” Ava said, panicked.

“Calm down. Let’s think logically.”

Ava glared at her.

“LOGICALLY? DID YOU NOT SEE THAT THING MOVE?”

~~~~~~

An hour later, they were back in Ava’s room, armed with a broom, a garbage bag, and, inexplicably, a Bible Ava found in a drawer.

“Alright,” Iris said, “we’ll bag it, toss it, and be done with it.”

“You touch it.”

“Coward.”

With a deep breath, Iris nudged the doll with the broom. It tipped over lifelessly.

“See? It’s fine. You’re imagining—”

The doll’s head twisted 180 degrees to face them.

Iris screamed, dropping the broom.

Ava grabbed the Bible and hurled it at the doll. It hit the floor with a crash, but when the dust settled, the doll was gone.

“What... where did it go?” Ava whispered.

From the closet, the giggling returned, louder this time.

The door flew open.

Ava and Iris screamed as dozens of tiny porcelain hands reached out, pulling them into the darkness.

The next morning, the landlord found Ava’s apartment empty.

The only thing left behind was the doll, sitting neatly on the desk, smiling.