by Mike Vogel
You gawk at the doll in a gloomy corner of an antiques store. The doll’s yellowish, off-kilter eyes feel evil. You touch the doll’s porcelain hand, cold as a corpse. You pick the doll up and a panic shoots through your body as the doll says “You must do everything I say.” You feel a telepathic voice tell you to put the doll back and leave immediately.