Just Another Day in the Lauderdale Mansion
So, I woke up this morning, pulled on my trousers and braces, and stumbled downstairs to the living room of the Mansion — one of the few rooms that is still halfway habitable after the roof collapse of '07.
When I switched on the light, I discovered this little fellow standing — not sitting — on the living room couch, just staring at me.
I stared back for a few minutes, and could swear I saw him slowly blink one little eye. That's all I needed to see. I backed out of the room, and went to fetch one of the servants. By the time we returned, the little creature was gone. When we looked closely, we could the little imprint left behind by his shoes in the fabric of the couch. Then we noticed that the front door was slightly ajar. Outside, we heard a soft giggle, or perhaps it was something else. The wind doesn't sound like what we heard.
I don't collect dolls. I have never collected dolls. And even if I did, I wouldn't bring home anything that looked as creepy as this.
I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. I'm just going back to bed. And locking all the doors.