The Little Doll

In the dark corner of little Alisa's room, is a porcelain doll. The doll feels lonely, and wants to play. But Alisa's mother always says; "Just leave her on the chair, she is a fragile doll." In the moonlit hours, when the house is submerged in silence, little Alisa often hears faint whispers, almost like the rustling of silk. "Play with me," the voice pleads, soft and persistent. At dawn, Alisa finds the doll's porcelain fingers curled ever-so-slightly differently, hinting at its midnight escapades. One evening, curious and defiant, Alisa decides to play with the doll, ignoring her mother's warnings. As they play, the room grows colder, and the doll's once glassy eyes seem more alive, reflecting a soul trapped and yearning for freedom. Alisa, entranced, promises to play every night, unwittingly binding herself to the doll's eerie desires.