MidReal Story

Whispers of the Haunted Doll

Pootis

Scenario:The Whispering Doll It started with a whisper. Soft, barely audible, but enough to make Alice's skin crawl. She was unpacking the last box from their recent move when she heard it—a faint, almost childlike giggle coming from the attic. Shaking off the eerie feeling, she decided to investigate. The old house they had moved into had been vacant for years, and her curiosity got the best of her. She climbed the creaky stairs to the attic, each step echoing in the empty space. The attic was filled with dusty old furniture and forgotten relics of the past. As she rummaged through the clutter, her eyes caught sight of an old, porcelain doll sitting in a rocking chair. Its eyes seemed to follow her every move, and a shiver ran down her spine. She reached out to pick up the doll, and as soon as her fingers touched its cold surface, the whispering began again. This time, it was clearer—a melodic, sing-song voice that seemed to come from the doll itself. "Alice...Alice...play with me..." Her heart pounded in her chest as she dropped the doll, the whispers growing louder and more insistent. She backed away, but the doll's eyes seemed to burn into her soul, compelling her to stay. Unable to resist, she found herself picking up the doll once more. The whispers grew into a cacophony of voices, each one more desperate than the last. "Play with me, Alice. Forever and ever." She knew she had to get rid of it. But as she turned to leave, the attic door slammed shut, trapping her inside with the sinister toy. The doll's eyes glowed with a malevolent light, and Alice realized too late that she had awoken something far more sinister than she could have ever imagined.

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The Whispering Doll It started with a whisper. Soft, barely audible, but enough to make Alice's skin crawl. She was unpacking the last box from their recent move when she heard it—a faint, almost childlike giggle coming from the attic. Shaking off the eerie feeling, she decided to investigate. The old house they had moved into had been vacant for years, and her curiosity got the best of her. She climbed the creaky stairs to the attic, each step echoing in the empty space. The attic was filled with dusty old furniture and forgotten relics of the past. As she rummaged through the clutter, her eyes caught sight of an old, porcelain doll sitting in a rocking chair. Its eyes seemed to follow her every move, and a shiver ran down her spine. She reached out to pick up the doll, and as soon as her fingers touched its cold surface, the whispering began again. This time, it was clearer—a melodic, sing-song voice that seemed to come from the doll itself. "Alice...Alice...play with me..." Her heart pounded in her chest as she dropped the doll, the whispers growing louder and more insistent. She backed away, but the doll's eyes seemed to burn into her soul, compelling her to stay. Unable to resist, she found herself picking up the doll once more. The whispers grew into a cacophony of voices, each one more desperate than the last. "Play with me, Alice. Forever and ever." She knew she had to get rid of it. But as she turned to leave, the attic door slammed shut, trapping her inside with the sinister toy. The doll's eyes glowed with a malevolent light, and Alice realized too late that she had awoken something far more sinister than she could have ever imagined.

Sarah Harper

Alice's mother who is initially dismissive of the haunting claims, relationships with Alice and Mark, elegant with long blonde hair, caring but pragmatic.

Mark Harper

Alice's supportive brother, relationships with Alice and their parents, tall with short black hair, protective and skeptical.

Alice Harper

haunted by the doll, relationships with her family and the doll, petite with curly brown hair, curious and brave.

I heard the first whisper as I was unpacking the last box from our move.

It was soft and barely audible, but it sent goosebumps down my spine.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart pounding in my chest, and I listened intently to see if I’d hear it again.

Nothing.

I shook off the shiver running down my spine and pushed the box aside.

There was no one else in the house except for my brother Mark and my parents, and they were all downstairs.

I picked up a book and walked over to the window.

The house we’d just moved into was old, and it had been vacant for years.

Maybe I’d imagined it?

As I looked out the window, I noticed how overgrown the garden was.

It was going to take a lot of work to get it looking anywhere near decent again.

I heard it again – a faint, childlike giggle that seemed to come from right above my head.

My eyes snapped up to the attic door at the end of the hall.