A Haunted Doll | A Creepypasta by BlueHero45

It’s absurd that I would die this way, its absurd anyone could die this way. It’s preposterous but I can feel the warmth of the flames grow closer, unable to move all I can do is search my memories and try to discover what I have done to deserve this fate.

My name is Elizabeth Downs. I am a twenty-four year old eccentric. I have an obsession with Victorian Dolls. They have just enough a mix of creepy and cute that I cannot get enough of them. My friends mock me for it, and not everyone is thrilled to see my collection but I never mind it. I was never one to care what others thought.

A new antique shop had recently opened and I was paying it a visit after seeing a doll from the window. It had on a black dress with a white umbrella in her hand. I had to take a look. A middle age man in an old suit approached me as I walked up to the doll. “Do you like her?” he said. He listened intently as I told him my own fascination with such dolls. I don’t know why I felt so compelled to tell this stranger my own hobby with such enthusiasm. He seemed truly absorbed in what I had to say, waiting patiently for me to finish with a smile on his face. “I can show you an even better doll in the store if you like?” With glee I followed the man to a small room in the back of the shop before suddenly the world went black.

I awoke to a bright light. I could not seem to move and felt like I was being carried somewhere. As my sight adjusted I could see the antique shop’s owner’s face close to mine. It seemed huge, as he stepped back I realized it was huge. I was high up, I could not move my head but I could see the doll from earlier out of the corner of my eye. It now sat next to me matching my size. “A beautiful doll indeed,” the man said in a sweet voice with a large grin on his face. The situation was deranged, I tried to yell out but my mouth would not move. I could do nothing but sit on my little shelf and watch as the man walked away.

Time was hard to keep track of. I was stuck in a plastic body with no way to move and left only with my thoughts. I know I would go mad if things kept up. I tried to entertain my mind by watching costumers come and go and the owner sweep and clean in-between. Every now and again he looked over at me and smiled. I was left with my hearing as well, but the sound of a little bell as costumers entered and exited and a few conversations with the owner were nearly all the sounds the store had to offer. Night had fallen twice, and I was left alone in the dark shop unable to even close my eyes. I could only wonder if anyone was looking for me, and if it was at all possible for them to find me in this state.

On the third day an older lady looked at me before walking off with the owner. They were out of my sight for a while before I heard the sound of the cash register. Then the owner walked up to me with a box in his hand. He picked me up and with surprise I could feel it. Why could I feel, hear or see anything in this plastic body? I was soon sunk into the darkness of the box. All light faded away as the top was closed. Claustrophobia soon set in. My mind panicked but there was literally nothing I could do. It’s hard to say how much time I spent in that box. Much of it has become blur of panic and sensory deprivation. My mind had floated away in that time.

Finally a light shone into my cage. It was blinding at first then someone pulled me into it. I saw the frowning face of a young girl. At least twelve or thirteen years old. She forced a smile on her face and turned to the old lady from the store sitting on a couch behind her. The words “Thank you, Grandma” forced their way out of her mouth. Confusion made way for the realization I was some kind of gift. I wanted to scream for help, but it was useless. Soon I was shoved back into the box, thankfully the top left open so I was no longer surrounded by darkness.

Sometime later I was removed from the box once and unceremoniously thrown on top of a rocking chair. I landed hard against the wooden chair. Filling my body with blunt pain. The room clearly belonged to the young girl. It was decorated with pink colors, stuffed animals, and all things girly. However despite the poor décor I saw an opportunity to try to communicate. Holding onto some slim hope that she notice me, or the me that was trapped in this body. Perhaps she did notice something, as time passed she stared at me. However my hopes died as she simply said “Creepy” and threw a pillow on top of me as she turned off the lights for the night.

Claustrophobia once again set in. Mixed with the frustration of all that has happened to me. Despite no longer having lungs I felt as if I was suffocating. I tried to will every bit of myself to move as my mind screamed. Then the chair rocked, just a little. Enough to knock the pillow off-balance and let it fall to the floor. I had somehow moved. Not by much but it was a small victory against my cursed fate. I could see the girl was already in bed sleeping. A small hope started to return that perhaps I would find a way out of this after all. I felt tired for the first time, and my mind drifted off to what I can only compare to sleep for the first time. I awoke some time later to see the girl standing over me. She had a scared look on her face. “Serves her right” I thought to myself. A woman’s voice yelled “Alice” and the girl turned away and left the room.

As time passed I understood that their were rules to my condition. I could move only with great willpower and only when no one was watching. It started with only an inch or so but grew the more I practiced. With this new hope I redoubled my efforts to try to seek help. It was one night that I managed to finally remove myself from the rocking chair. I had to drop with a thump to the floor. The impact hurt but I deemed it worth the pain. I sat facing the door to the room. Alice would notice me, she could help me if she know I was alive.

My plan worked, but held unforeseen consequences. Alice walked into the room and upon seeing me shrieked. A swift moment later her foot flow towards me kicking me across the room hard into a wall. The impact severed my plastic arm from my body. I was filled with mind numbing pain. I wanted to cry, scream, crumble in agony but once again I was unable to move. Alice moved towards me, I wanted to plead for her aid, for her mercy. She looked angry and I was scared. She picked me up, and took my severed arm in her other hand. “Enough of this,” she said as she walked out of the room with me.

We walked through parts of the house I was seeing for the first time. I saw no signs of her parents or the old lady I first met. We walked into the home’s backyard and I was set on a glass outdoor table. Alice moved towards a large metal bowl with wood sitting inside it. It was a fire pit. My heart sank. She picked up some matches from a nearby chair and lit them. With care she started a fire in the pit and watched it grow. “Always watching me,” she said in an angry tone. I tried to will myself away, I tried to scream “I don’t want to die!” but it was useless. Soon, as the fire grew, she approached me slowly like an executioner to the gallows. I was picked up and marched towards the fire.

I am afraid… really afraid. Please… old lady, man from the shop… anyone. I can feel the flames growing closer, their warmth growing with each inch forward… Please Alice…

Original Story: A Haunted Doll Story

Music by Myuu

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The Accident

Last month, something very strange happened. My four friends and I went to a local haunted area for a scare and to kill an evening. It was about 9:00 p.m., so it was as dark as it was going to get for the night. We were arriving at the spot when it started to get extremely foggy to the point where you could hardly see in front of you, definitely the scene for a scary evening.

We started to slow down to park, and I saw a look of terror on my friend’s face, a look of terror that no one can fake. He then said “accelerate” in a tone that both intrigued and terrified me at the same time. Without really thinking, I just sped up about ten miles per hour faster than I had been going, just assuming that the spot we were in scared him a bit.

As we went farther up the road, the restlessness that he felt only proceeded to get worse. At this point I just wanted to get out of where we were, as his fear was beginning to rub off on me. As I continued to pick up speed, I saw what had scared him so bad. I had only seen it for a split second before I heard the crunches and felt the car go over a bump that no one would want to acknowledge, but was impossible to ignore.

I panicked in a way that I never had before, and stopped the car with such force that we all jerked forward into what was in front of us. Ignoring the pain with adrenaline and shock, we got out to inspect what my fear and carelessness had done, and after seeing what was there, I wish I had kept driving. The “man” was lying in a pool of blood, his chest flattened from one line of wheels, and his feet flattened from the other line. It was a sight that I knew would stick in my mind as well as my friends’ for as long as we shall all live.

After the disgust and horror we all witnessed, I convinced everyone to get back into the car. Once we all got into the car, the weather had completely cleared as if a tension in the area had been relieved. I had no choice but to take all of my friends home with the scars that I knew would haunt them for the rest of their lives. On the way home, no one spoke of the gore that we had just witnessed, and I had no problem with that.

I felt like there had been a presence following us, but I just brushed it off as shock and went on with my driving. I dropped off all of my friends, making them promise that the event would never be spoken of to anyone. I then made my way to my house to cleanse my car of the horror that it had endured. I hosed my tires and bumper off, then went into the house to take a shower.

I still had the feeling of a presence, which had begun to give me a very unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I knew that it was just guilt. Guilt is the mind’s form of karmic retribution; no one can completely get away with something. I went to bed once I got out of the shower, hoping that I could sleep this terrible night from existence. It took about 2 hours for me to finally fall asleep, but that would be the worst mistake of my life.

I woke up about 3 hours later to the worst sight of my life. At the foot of my bed, I saw the face of my accident. Sitting no more than 2 feet away from me was the personification of fear. His body was mangled. His chest was flattened along with the lower half of his legs. He sensed my being awake through my fear, and turned to look at me. He had no eyes, but the sockets showed all of the pain and anger that he felt. This was coupled, however, with a sick sense of amusement that he got from the control that he had over my sanity.

He lunged for me, getting within mere inches from my face. Even though he had no eyes, I still felt as though he could see right into my very light of existence. He then whispered in a tone of pure terror “Forever…” and crawled out of my room. I ran out of my house into my car and drove. I drove for six hours straight, well into the daytime. I don’t know what that creature was, but I do know that he will be forever with me, with me as a constant reminder of how fear and panic can ruin one’s life.

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Scary Story Time: DOLLS

 

For a decade every morning little girls would find dolls on their doorstep. People figured it was the old eccentric woman on the hill making home made dolls. No one ever figured there was something wrong with the dolls until their searched the woman’s home. Some say she still haunts the neighborhood and sometimes they find dolls!

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Gangster Vs. Train

 

This is something that happened a long, long time ago. I also had the story posted to another website that went down. I will need to transcribe it at some point. The story is that two bad 12 year old girls called each other’s mothers to say they were going to stay the night at the other’s house. We all know where that is going…they stayed out all night until one disgusting pig of a male, a Mexican gangster, did something horrendous. There was revenge though. This all happened next to the railroad tracks and he didn’t see that train coming.

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The Morning Visitor | A Ghost Story

 

Story written by methodwriter85

I had this supervisor, Kate. One day, we had a discussion that turned into the unexplained, and she told me about something that happened when she was a teenager. She tries to debunk crazy things that have happened, but this is one she hasn’t been able to do. It was the summer after she graduated from high school, sometime in the second half of the 1990’s. She was 18 at the time. Her friend Billy was a few years older, but still lived with his mother in their house. This was in a small city in Western Maryland, and Billy’s house had just enough land that he could throw raging, day-to-night summer parties complete with bonfires. At the same time, they weren’t totally isolated, and random people from the surrounding neighborhoods would show up to his parties all the time.

One day, Billy met this skater kid named Nick at a park one morning, and being a social animal guy, Billy invited him to hang out with him at his house. Billy probably also took some pity on Nick, because Nick told him he was a runaway who was living at the park. They would basically play video games, go on rides, and party ’til late at night. Nick started showing up every day at Billy’s house, knocking on the door at 7 a.m. sharp and engaging him in the morning-til-night drinking. He was about 16, with dark eyes and dark spiky hair (remember, this was the late 90’s), and seemed fairly normal and everything except for a couple of things. The first was that he always wore the same thing- a plain t-shirt and a pair of camo-print cargo shorts. Despite the fact that he was sleeping at a park, his clothes always looked clean. The second is that he was never seen eating or going to the bathroom, despite the fact that Nick was drinking heavily with Billy. Finally, oddly enough, no one remembers actually feeling Nick’s skin- even my supervisor, who had sat next to him in a car during a road trip.

She hung out with Billy and Nick at Billy’s house two times, and each time she and her friend felt like something was very “off” with Nick, especially when he would give off this laugh that just sounded very evil and maniacal. He also seemed to get kookier and weirder when they went on a road trip and got further away from Billy’s city. Nick would also never shut up about his father’s gun collection.

Finally, Billy’s hospitality reached its limits- after two weeks of waking Billy up at 7 a.m. to go party, Billy snapped at Nick at his front door. He said, “Look, Nick, you’ve been coming here every morning for two weeks. You’re waking up my mother, who’s trying to sleep. You really need to go now. Please just come back later.” Then he slammed the door shut. Nick never showed up again.

Billy came to Katie, a little bit later, with a newspaper article. It was about Nick, who had apparently killed himself. Nick had escaped from the mental asylum his parents had put him in that was located in Billy’s town, got to his father’s house and shot himself with his father’s gun.

Billy was originally upset because he felt like he must’ve put Nick over-the-edge when he kicked him out, until he checked the dates.

Nick had committed suicide on July 10th, two weeks before they had met.

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Haunted House in Larkfield, California

 

(To protect the privacy of the current resident this is not an image of the actual house.)

This is another true scary story of mine. We lived in a house in Larkfield, California that was haunted. Many creepy things happened in that house. Everyone noticed the haunted events. My sister and I would get scratches from nowhere. Dust would fall from places where there was no furniture. My cat would growl at nothing inside and outside of the house. Those are just the possible coincidental events. Two others stand out in my memory:

There was a cold back room that no one liked to go into. It was adjacent to the bathroom. It would never warm up and sometimes you could see your breath even in the summer. One time my brother’s friend was sitting in the living room and he freaked out because he watched a large yellow animal that resembled a cat but walked like a man go from the bathroom to that bedroom.

Another creepy time was when my sister and her best friend were playing cards at the dining room table. Across from the table was the window to the outside. The owners had build a second room to that wall so the window really only looked into that side room. Without a word her face went white and she got up from the table to grab a Michael Myers sized knife from the kitchen then told my sister she had just seen a face of a person inside the room in the window looking at them. There was no one there and all of the doors were locked.

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Hidden Lakes Ghost in Martinez, California

 

This was my first video on YouTube. 🙂 The sound quality is amusing and I was just getting over whooping cough so my voice was kind of raspy. It is a true story about my son who was about 4 or 5 at the time. He took a walk with his dad, uncle, aunt, and their children. I was pregnant and about to pop so I stayed behind and took a nap.

My husband at the time woke me up and asked me to help get some warm water going. My son had tried to walk on the algae on the water and fell in. No one noticed except a fisherman across the lake. My ex was off doing something, whatever. The fisherman yelled at the family and my brother-in-law jumped in to get him. He could tell where he was by the puff of his curly hair.

Later on, and my son won’t admit to this now, he told me that while he was under the water a woman saved his life. She told him to hold his breath and that help was coming. He said she was a ghost and then he said she was an angel. I suppose she could have been either, but other people have reported a ghost of a person who drowned in the area years ago. It could all be hearsay because I can’t find any records of such an event, but it is a common occurrence.

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