The Toymaker's Doll

I regret everything that it has done since it came into being. I am a doll maker from a small town in Alabama. A brief history of how I ended up in this profession. Since my great grandfather to myself, my family has owned a small shop outside of town. We are renowned for the handmade toys and dolls that start as a block of wood from a tree cut down in the forest near the shop. This forest recently suffered a dark event. An event that curses me to this very day. It started a year ago, I became the owner of my family’s toy store after my father passed away after a battle with cancer. I kept things the same the way they always had been since this store opened in 1934. A young girl by the name of Susy Ann came into my shop on August 18, 20011. She was about to turn 7 and her mother took her to my shop to tell me what kind of toy she wanted for her birthday that year. She requested a doll one that she could dress and care for as one of her friends. She wanted her beautiful and with many sets of outfits to wear. I sat down with a pencil and paper and drew a sketch of a face I believed she would have liked. Upon seeing the kind eyes and thoughtful smile of face I drew she exclaimed with great joy that she loved it and couldn’t wait to play with her and have many tea parties with her new friend. After they left the shop I went straight to work, I picked up an ax and went into the forest that I mentioned earlier behind the shop. I selected a small pine tree to chop down for the wood that would be the main material for the doll. Little did I know that the tree I had just chopped down witnessed a terrible event. A life had ended before it. Atrocities of death and and decay, lies and sin all to be beheld by this innocent tree that had to be no older than 10 years. Within a few hours I had constructed the limbs and torso, painted her and gave her hair (donated from a kind horse) she looked exactly as I drew her. Yet something was odd, the doll had a presence about it that seemed errie like it hated me for giving it life looking into its eyes I felt like I had commited a crime…
The following day the mother of the girl, her name was Samantha I soon found out had come by to claim the doll. She paid me for my work and wished me a great day. As she walked away with the doll in arms I again felt the chill run down my spine as the doll’s eyes burned a hole straight into my hazel irises. A haunting stare and I swear to this very day her eyes looked pitch black, empty and cold. I sat down after Samantha’s mother exited the store. I was sweating, frightened and cold. Had I have realized that I just gave a woman and her daughter the most evil thing in creation I would have thrown it into the fire and apologized with a tear streaked face… but I continued on with my day trying to forget that cold empty stare.
A month later a police man entered my shop. He didn’t say anything immediatly. Instead he gazed around at the toys I had made and set on the shelves from teddy bears to dolls to games. He paced around the store for ten minutes before he finally sighed and adressed me. “Sir, I have come here on the suspicions that you have become involved in a murder.” He handed me a picture of two corpses. Both female one a young girl and one a woman presumeably her mother. My god… It was Samantha and her mother. They lay dead with blood stained eyes it appeared they had been crying blood… and a small trickle was running down the side of Samantha’s mouth. The police officer gave me a look of sadness. ” I knew that family. They were good people. I was deeply saddned to find out Amy and Samantha were murdered,” he said as I gave the photo back to him. “It has come to my understanding that they purchased a doll from you a month ago.” He looked me straight in the eyes. I told him that was correct. He the proceeded to ask me where I had gotten the doll. I told him I made it. I told him where I got the materials and how I constructed the doll. His face grew white with every passing word. “That forest, That forest back yonder?” he nodded to it from the window which gave a good view of the dense woods. He asked me to follow him and I did so without question. My heart was beating slow and hard. I couldn’t believe he suspected me for killing those two people. Innocent females who never angered me in my life. We walked to the edge of the forest and the officer stopped at the trail leading deeper inside and took out a cigarette and offered me one. I declined as he lit up and took a few drags from it. ” Do you know what happened many years ago in this forest.” He gave me a long look. I told him no and he went on to explain the many ritualistic murders, and satanic orgies that took place here. He explained how evil was believed to gather in this place and so much of it transpired here that it seeped into the ground into the roots and the soil. Consuming the forest and made it black with sin and hate. The worst part of the police officers story was that it was my family who owned it and my family who tolerated these things to happen. They just turned a blind eye to it all! Some where even involved in it’s dark history! I started to form tears in my eyes as I realized that the tree I cut down must have taken all that dark evil spirit inside of it and transferred it into the doll I made for Samantha. It killed her. I knew it deep in my heart that it was my fault. I told the police officer everything and he nodded as he stamped out his cigarette. He told me the doll I mentioned wasn’t found but a note hastily written with thier blood was found in the room next to thiers that proclaimed me as their death dealer. I sadly hung my head as I knew that there was no way I could convince the police of my innocence. I allowed myself to be arrested. I pleaded guilty and was sentenced to life without parole for the murders of Amy and Samantha Powers. As I was being led away something in the corner of my eye moved. I saw the doll there with its black empty eyes… and covered in dried blood its right arm sharpened to a razorblade edge… and it’s smile… It haunts me to this very day.
Category:Demins and Debbils
Category:Living Objects
Category:Pointless Violence
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Old Shit