The Doll's Gaze

In the quiet stillness of the bedroom, a cold blue moonlight cast long,

eerie shadows across the worn wooden floorboards, highlighting the dusty, forgotten shelf and

its unsettling occupant. Alex lay restless, caught between waking and sleeping, a subconscious dread

clinging to her, as the blurred form of the doll in the background seemed to

watch her every shallow breath. A soft, grating sound pierced the silence,

barely a whisper, yet it sent a jolt of ice through the air,

drawing the eye slowly toward the ominous shelf. The doll's porcelain face,

now sharply in focus, displayed a network of fine cracks, its glassy eyes