The Porcelain Doll

1. The Doll in the Antique Shop

The antique shop at midnight was filled with rows of yellowed porcelain and old relics, the air thick with a musty scent.

Jamie stood at the counter, her gaze fixed on the porcelain doll encased in a glass display.

It stood about thirty centimeters tall, dressed in a faded red traditional gown. Its porcelain face was smooth, yet unnaturally pale, and its lips were curved into an ambiguous smile—somewhere between amusement and eerie detachment.

But the strangest part—

Its eyes.

Two black glass beads that glistened under the dim lighting, as if damp.

As if they were watching.

"How much for this?"

The shop owner, a hunched old man with deep-set wrinkles, lifted his gaze slowly. His voice was gruff, carrying a strange hesitation.

"Are you sure you want this one?"

Jamie chuckled. "Why? Afraid it'll bite?"

The old man didn't laugh. Instead, his expression darkened slightly.

"That doll was a burial object." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "It was once buried with a little girl… but somehow, it found its way back to the living."

Then, with a more cautious tone, he added—

"They say those who bring it home… hear a child's laughter at night."

"Hehe…"

Jamie's smile froze.

A faint, giggling sound came from inside the glass case.

Her head snapped toward the old man. "Are you playing a recording?"

The old man frowned. "What recording?"

"Hehe…"

The laughter echoed again, light and distant, like a child muffling their own amusement.

Jamie instinctively took a step back.

Inside the glass case, the doll remained motionless. But its black eyes…

Looked glossier than before.

2. The Doll Comes Home

"You actually brought it home?"

Sandra stood at the doorway, arms crossed, watching as Jamie placed the porcelain doll on the living room table.

"What, hoping it'll tell you bedtime stories?" she said dryly.

Jamie shrugged. "It's more of an art piece than a haunted object."

Sandra scoffed but said nothing more, sparing the doll one last glance before heading to the kitchen to make coffee.

The night deepened. Wind howled outside, rustling the trees. The warm yellow glow of the living room lights cast strange shadows on the doll's face, making it appear almost… different.

2:00 AM.

Just as Jamie was about to sleep, a faint creak echoed from the living room.

She frowned, stepping out of her bedroom.

The doll was still there, sitting exactly where she left it.

But—

Its head seemed to have tilted… just slightly.

Jamie narrowed her eyes and took a cautious step forward.

Suddenly—

"Hehe…"

A child's laughter.

Jamie whipped around, her spine stiffening.

Nothing.

The room was empty.

"Hehehehehe…"

The laughter danced through the air, shifting in volume, as if coming from every direction at once.

Jamie's breath hitched. She grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of the doll.

The screen showed the same porcelain figure—

Except…

Its smile had grown wider.

3. The Eerie Changes

The next morning, Sandra entered the living room with a fresh cup of coffee, only to find Jamie sitting on the couch, face grim.

"Tell me you didn't stay up all night because of that thing."

Jamie looked up, eyes tired. She pointed at the doll.

"It laughed."

Sandra exhaled sharply. "That's what you bought it for, isn't it?"

Jamie shot her a glare and handed over her phone.

"Look at the photo."

Sandra frowned as she studied the screen.

Her expression shifted slightly.

The doll's smile was indeed wider than before. Its lips had parted just enough to reveal the faintest glimpse of porcelain-white teeth.

Sandra set her coffee down and walked toward the doll. She ran her fingers over its face—

Cold. Smooth. Just like any other porcelain.

"Did you hear anything else?" she asked.

Jamie nodded. "Footsteps."

Sandra's brows furrowed. "Footsteps?"

Jamie's voice lowered.

"Light ones. Like a barefoot child running across the floor."

Sandra turned toward the corner of the room, scanning the floor.

Then—she froze.

Faint, damp footprints trailed across the wooden floor.

Small footprints.

Leading from the doll… to Jamie's bedroom.

Jamie's stomach twisted.

The windows had been shut all night.

There were no children in the house.

So where did the footprints come from?

4. The Truth

Desperate for answers, Jamie and Sandra reached out to an expert in ancient artifacts.

Hours later, the expert's voice came through the phone, heavy with unease—

"That doll… it belonged to a little girl."

"She was buried alive."

"She clutched that doll in terror as she suffocated. Her soul… never left it."

The voice on the other end hesitated before adding—

"If you're hearing her laugh… that means she's found you."

Jamie tightened her grip on the phone. "How do we stop it?"

A pause.

Then, in a low voice—

"Whatever you do, don't let her into your bedroom."

Jamie's breath caught.

"Why?"

The expert's response was almost a whisper—

"Because she'll crouch beside your bed… and watch you sleep."

5. The End

That night, Jamie and Sandra returned the doll to its grave.

They drove to an abandoned burial site in the countryside, digging into the soil until it was deep enough.

As the final layer of dirt covered the porcelain figure, the air around them seemed to tremble for a brief second.

Then—

A faint, delicate voice whispered—

"Thank you…"

They didn't look back.

They got in the car and left.

In the silence of the night, buried beneath the earth, the porcelain doll rested.

And for the first time—its smile was peaceful.

6. A Gift

Days later, Jamie returned to her office to find a small gift box sitting on her desk.

There was no name. No sender.

Frowning, she slowly lifted the lid.

Inside—

A single, porcelain tooth.

Smooth. White.

Like it belonged to a little girl.