I recently moved into an old house that had been abandoned for years. The house was big and had a lot of character, but it needed a lot of work. As I started renovating the place, I found a small room at the back of the house that had been boarded up. I pried the boards off and found a room filled with old furniture, boxes, and a strange dollhouse.
The dollhouse was a miniature version of my own house, but it was old and dusty. The dolls inside looked ancient, with cracked porcelain faces and tattered clothing. I was both fascinated and repulsed by it, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. I decided to clean it up and put it on display in my own house.
As soon as I placed the dollhouse on a table in my living room, strange things started happening. At first, it was small things like objects moving on their own or doors opening and closing. But then, I started hearing strange noises at night, and my dreams were filled with terrifying visions of the dolls coming to life.
I tried to ignore it, thinking it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, but the strange occurrences continued. One night, I woke up to find the dolls from the dollhouse scattered around my room. They had moved on their own, and their eyes seemed to follow me wherever I went.
I decided to get rid of the dollhouse, but every time I tried to throw it away, I felt a strange force pulling me back. It was like the dollhouse had a life of its own and didn’t want to be thrown away. I started to feel like I was losing my mind, and I knew I had to find a way to get rid of it once and for all.
I did some research and found out that the previous owner of the house had a daughter who had disappeared mysteriously years ago. She was rumored to have played with a dollhouse that looked just like the one I had found. It was said that the dolls in the dollhouse had come to life and taken the little girl away.
I realized that the dollhouse was cursed, and it had to be destroyed. I took it to a nearby abandoned field and burned it, watching as the flames consumed the old wood and the dolls inside. As the last embers died out, I felt a sense of relief wash over me.
But the relief didn’t last long. That night, I had a dream that the little girl who had disappeared appeared before me, holding the charred remains of the dollhouse in her hands. She said, “You can’t get rid of it that easily. It will always be with you.”
I woke up in a cold sweat, knowing that the curse of the dollhouse had not been broken. I knew that I would always be haunted by the ghosts of the past, and that the dollhouse would continue to be a reminder of the horrors that had taken place within its walls.