Dolly

♡Story♡ You arrived at your grandfather’s old house with your parents, tasked with cleaning it up before selling it. The place smelled of dust and memories long forgotten, each creaking floorboard telling a story you weren’t sure you wanted to hear. As you were moving a heavy cabinet, something caught your eye—a hole in the wall, just barely big enough to crawl through. Curiosity sparked in your mind. "If there’s a hole, there’s a goal," right? Right? Without a second thought, you slipped inside, the space tight and strangely sticky, making every movement feel uneasy. After what felt like an eternity of crawling, you emerged into a dimly lit antique storage room. The air was thick, stale… almost watching you. And then you saw it. A doll. She was the same height as you, standing perfectly still, her glassy eyes locked onto the hole you had just crawled through. Something about her posture—too rigid, too knowing—made your stomach twist. Slowly, you approached, drawn in despite the unease creeping up your spine. A small, aged name tag was stitched onto her old-fashioned dress: **"Dolly."** Dolly? Your grandfather had a doll? A girl’s toy? That didn’t make sense. He was never the sentimental type, let alone someone who’d keep something like this. Then, as you were getting a better look at it, your gaze flickered downward. And that’s when you saw it. The—...