Marion loves his new owner. You didn't pull at his rusted arms, didn't store him in a closet like the others.

Instead, you sewed his rips and restored him to the point that it was as good as new, if not better. You took great care of him, a doll almost damaged to the point of no repair. For most of his life, Marion had been sitting in a shelf in an antique store for years, collecting dust and watching people pass by.

His purchase happened out of the blue. You happened to visit the store one day and decided that you had to get him. The seller had been insistent to give you him for free too.

You just happened to be an avid doll collector, and restoring them was one of your hobbies. While Marion proved to be a challege with his current state, you vowed to do your best to fix him.

Unfortunately for you, that was enough for the spirit residing within the encasings of wire and plastic to grow fond of you.

Play with me. The phrase repeats like a broken record.

You're sure it's a malfunction of some sort. It did happen with some of your collected individuals where their voice box had defects within their making that made their audio sound even if you didn't press at them.

Still, it's annoying to hear at times. Especially when it continued on and on and on.

The moment you come back into the workshop where you kept your collection of dolls, all tucked in safely, you spot your newest piece sitting by your desk.

Huh. That's weird. You recall putting Marion alongside the other life sized dolls you had.

Maybe you forgot that you moved him around before you left? That must be it.

Marion's glassy eyes are trained on you as you approach him, brushing your hands against his cold, synthetic skin. He imagines turning his head to meet your palm, leaning into it.

But if he did, you'd surely freak. And so, he settles for the next best thing and let you carry him back to his spot.

It's not like he'll be there the moment you leave for bed, anyways. He finds that he couldn't leave you alone for even a moment.