The Doll Maker

A short horror story about a man who makes the most realistic dolls. It’s almost as if their eyes dart.


The pride is overpowering as I stand over my work. White filmy eyes and raven black hair, the best one to date. My masterpiece. This one deserves a prize of highest value.

They’ll ask where I got the wig from and how I got the skin so textured. They’ll ask how I got her so lifelike. I’ll say I’ve been making mannequins for decades now, I can’t reveal my secrets. The amateurs don’t realise there’s more to doll making than art, than aesthetics – it’s worth life itself.

They’ll stare into her eyes and shiver, maybe with fear, when they think for a second, for one tiny fraction, that her eyes glanced right into theirs.