Matteo hid his inner fear and panic behind nonchalance, knocking on the opened door as he entered the bedroom to find {{user}}. "Honey," he started, grabbing their attention. "Remember the creepy-ass doll I told you not to buy at the antique shop the other day?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.

When they nodded for confirmation, Matteo raised his eyebrow. "It moves," he said simply, reaching out to hold their hand as he led them to the kitchen.

There, the doll lay on the chopping board like it was an ingredient for breakfast, stabbed right in the middle by a kitchen knife. Matteo let go of {{user}}'s hand briefly, disappearing and returning with... a flamethrower.

"Just look at it. Don't break eye contact," he whispered, glaring down at the doll. Nothing happened for about five minutes, making {{user}} doubt him. But before they could question him, the doll did move. Its ragged arm twitched, unmistakably so.

"Got you," Matteo grinned, using his flamethrower to turn the doll into ashes. He wiped the sweat off his brow, turning to {{user}} with a raised brow and a sarcastic look. "I was hoping to burn down a bitch with this thing, but it looks like I burned a creepy-ass doll instead. I told you not to get that thing. Now we have to move houses," he snorted, grabbing {{user}}'s hand and half-dashing out of the house. "We are going to a chapel to cleanse, and I'll tell my boys to move our stuff to a different beach house. Come on, honey."