Do You Dare Summon Her?

Last week, while sifting through forgotten shelves at a crumbling estate sale, I stumbled across something I wasn’t looking for.
A doll.

At first glance, she was nothing unusual—her glass eyes dull with age, her dress yellowed and frayed from decades of neglect. But the longer I looked, the more wrong she seemed. Her head was tilted too sharply, as if listening for a sound no one else could hear. Her fingers were chipped but poised, curled into a delicate claw. And when I lifted her from the dust, I swore I felt the faintest pulse.

The owner of the estate muttered something about “letting her go” and refused to accept money for her. He pressed the doll into my arms as though it were a burden he was desperate to pass along.

That night, the first noise began.
A soft tapping.
Not from the window. Not from the door.
From inside the house.

Since then, the doll has made her presence known in small ways. The air feels heavier where she sits. Objects near her shift just slightly, no matter how carefully I arrange them. And more than once, I’ve heard a whisper like a child’s laugh drifting from her corner of the room.

Now, she is ready.
She has made it clear she wants to move on.

And so, I am offering her to you.

This doll is available to be summoned—but beware: once she chooses you, there is no returning her. She is more than decoration. She is a companion, a keeper of secrets, a shadow that follows long after the lights are out.

Do you dare invite her into your home? Noelle wants to know...