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Scary doll

In a quiet, quaint village, nestled deep in the woods, an old, dilapidated house sat abandoned for years. Locals whispered about the cursed history of the place, claiming it was haunted by the spirit of a child. The house’s windows were shattered, and the garden overgrown with thorns, but inside, one room remained untouched—a child’s nursery.

One evening, a curious teenager named Lily decided to explore the house with her friends. Armed with flashlights, they crept through the creaking front door. The air inside was heavy with dust and secrets. They ventured upstairs and discovered the nursery, frozen in time.

Amidst the tattered teddy bears and faded picture books, Lily found a porcelain doll with a cracked face. Its eyes, once bright blue, now seemed to follow her every move. Ignoring the unease gnawing at her, she picked up the doll and dusted it off. As she did, a faint, melancholic lullaby filled the room.

Startled, Lily dropped the doll, but the lullaby continued to play, growing louder and more haunting. The room darkened, and the air grew icy. Her friends screamed, trying to escape, but the door slammed shut, trapping them inside.

The doll began to move, its cracked lips forming a sinister smile. It floated toward Lily, its porcelain hands reaching for her throat. Panic surged through her as she struggled against the doll’s malevolent grip. It whispered chilling words into her ear, promising to keep her there forever.

Lily’s friends watched in horror as she withered before their eyes, becoming a lifeless porcelain doll like the one that had cursed her. The lullaby faded, and the room returned to its eerie stillness.

To this day, the village whispers of the haunted house and the porcelain doll that lures unsuspecting souls into its clutches. Beware the forgotten doll and the nursery that time forgot, for those who enter may never leave, condemned to a porcelain prison for eternity.

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Kuchisake-onna, also known as the "Slit-Mouthed Woman", is a famous yōkai (supernatural entity) in Japanese folklore. According to the legend, she was once a beautiful woman whose husband brutally murdered her by cutting her mouth from ear to ear. Now, her vengeful spirit roams the streets, covering her disfigured face with a mask or her hands.

Kuchisake-onna approaches unsuspecting victims and asks them, "Am I pretty?" If the person answers "Yes," she reveals her slit mouth and asks, "How about now?" The victim is then killed. If the person answers "No," she also kills them.

To avoid Kuchisake-onna, it is said that one should respond to her initial question with "You're so-so," or carry a weapon like an umbrella to defend oneself. The legend has become a popular urban myth in Japan, especially among children, and has since spread to other countries as an iconic figure of Japanese horror.

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The house creaked around him. It was old, older than him, and it knew things he didn't want it to know. He heard it then, a soft scratching sound, coming from upstairs. It was getting closer.

He grabbed a baseball bat and crept up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest. The scratching stopped, then started again, this time from behind the bedroom door. He took a deep breath and swung the door open.

Nothing.

But then he saw it, a dark shape huddled in the corner. It was watching him, its eyes glowing in the darkness. He swung the bat, but it was too late. The shape lunged at him, its claws digging into his flesh. He screamed, but no sound came out.

When he woke up, he was alone in the bedroom. The sun was shining through the window, and there was no sign of the creature. But he knew it was still there, waiting for him.

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This is the story of a boy and a girl who were next door neighbors. Jane was her name, Johnny was his. They had known each other since they were three. Jane always wore a yellow ribbon around her neck, rain or shine, summer or winter, whether it matched her outfit or not, she always wore that same yellow ribbon.

Johnny had barely noticed it when they were young, but now they were in highschool, and it bothered him.

"Why do you always wear that same yellow ribbon around your neck, Jane?" Johnny would ask every day, but Jane would never answer.

Time passed by, and they spent most of their time together. Whenever Johnny asked Jane out, she would say yes. She always wore a yellow dress to match the yellow ribbon around her neck. One day Johnny proposed to Jane. She hinted that she might tell him about the yellow ribbon around her neck on their wedding day but he never got around to ask her.

They raised a family of four. Whenever their children asked him about it, he’d always hushed them, and somehow none of the kids had dared ask their mother. It was not until Jane was on her death bed a year later that Johnny, seeing his last chance slip away, asked Jane one final time about the yellow ribbon she wore around her neck. She shook her head a bit at his persistence, and then said with a sad smile: “Okay Johnny, you can go ahead and untie it.”

With shaking hands, Johnny fumbled for the knot and untied the yellow ribbon around his wife’s neck. And Jane’s head fell off…

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Years ago, in Oaxaca, there was a narrow and dark alley known as “dead man's alley.” No one dared to walk there after midnight. People said it was cursed, and I, curious and reckless, decided to challenge that belief.

One night, when the moon was full, I ventured down the alley. The shadows closed around me, the echo of my steps echoed off the walls, and I felt that something was watching me from the shadows.

Suddenly, a strange figure appeared in front of me. He was a man with empty eyes. His skin was pale as the moon, and his gaze pierced my soul. Without a word, he extended a bony hand toward me.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaking.

The man smiled, revealing teeth sharp as knives.

I am the night watchman,” he whispered.

Fear paralyzed me, but I couldn't look away from his eyes. What do you want from me? -said

said. “I need you to listen to my sins. Only then will I be able to rest in peace.”

The night watchman began to speak. His story was chilling: a heinous crime, a betrayal and a dark secret that tormented him.

When he finished, he looked at me gratefully. "Thank you"

I left the alley, shaking and confused.

Since then, I have shared his story with all who dare to listen. But be careful if you ever venture down Callejón del Muerto.