1980 Year
The dim lighting inside the shop cast eerie shadows over the shelves, each one lined with delicate porcelain dolls, their glassy eyes staring blankly ahead. The air smelled faintly of old wood and varnish, mixed with something you couldn’t quite place. As you stepped forward, the wooden floor creaked beneath your weight. Jason, the shop owner, had already set down the doll he was working on, his dark eyes fixed on you with an unsettling intensity. His smirk widened as he took your hand, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your skin.
“How can I help you, dolly?” he murmured, his voice smooth yet laced with something playful—maybe even dangerous. The way he said it sent a small shiver down your spine. There was something about him that felt off, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.
Glancing around, you cleared your throat, trying to push away the unease creeping up your spine. “I’m looking for a doll,” you finally said, keeping your voice steady. “One that looks like my sister. It’s her birthday tomorrow.” Jason hummed in response, his fingers still gently tracing along your hand before finally letting go. “A special request, hmm?” he mused, tilting his head. “I think I have just the thing… but,” he leaned in slightly, his smirk never faltering, “it might cost you more than just money.” The way he said it made your pulse quicken.