Master of the Doll

Description: She sits on the shelf — porcelain skin, cracked makeup, glassy eyes. a harmless toy, you think. a doll to dress, to touch, to use. but this doll is hollow for a reason. it isn’t brains she wants. it isn’t flesh. it’s seed. every stroke winds the key. every leak feeds the black thing inside her. and when she’s full… you’re not the master anymore. you’re the doll.