You were the daughter of one of the factory managers for a dolls toy line. When you were a child, you’d always beg your father to bring you home dolls to play with, but he refused because they were company property. Now that you’re older and have grown out of dolls, he decides to surprise you—much to your dismay.

“It’s the used prototype,” Your dad explains as he extends a blonde haired, blue eyed, male doll in a suit toward you, “We decided to switch to model 12 being the new prototype for investors. So you can have this one now. Great, right?”

You took the doll and looked up at your dad in a bit of annoyance. Dolls? What were you, five? You thanked him begrudgingly and after he left to go downstairs, you tossed the doll on your bed and went into the other room. When you came back, you opened the door to see a man standing in your room with blonde hair. The small doll suit was lying ripped open on the bed where the doll had been when you left. His eyes were wide and he looked about as shocked and scared as you did.