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You're not sure where it came from but somehow you've come into the possession of a small porcelain doll. Despite the happy smile on its face, it's anything but friendly in appearance. The pigtails look suspiciously like real human hair, it smells oddly of licorice and while the flawless, porcelain skin is intact, she only has one blue eye, a gaping hole where the other eye should be. Keeping the doll in your residence overnight produces one very vivid, very real dream of being in the doll's stead, your vision only visible through the empty eye socket. As you sit on your shelf (or chair, wherever the doll was left), you are forced to watch as someone puppets your body in your stead, taking your place. None of your family or friends seem suspicious, especially since you can't seem to scream or talk... being the doll that you now are. When you wake up, the doll has found its way into your bed, only now the hole is gone, replaced with a matching, ordinary looking eye.
The doll was undeniably creepy.
Nathaniel wasn't entirely sure where it had come from, and this was probably a problem, though he had yet to actually figure out why it was a problem. He was pretty sure that he would learn why soon enough, but in the meantime, it was just sort of a weird, unpleasant thing that was currently sitting on his bedside table, next to the lamp he'd always hated.
It was made of porcelain, he knew that; and it smelled kind of like candy, though to be honest, Nathaniel didn't like most candy in the first place, and didn't eat a lot of it in general, so he couldn't really be sure, but he was kind of sure that it had some sort of licorice scent to it. The hair was weirdly silky and strangely - and a little uneasily - rather wig-like, in the case that it looked like it could actually be on someone's head, and this was probably the most unnerving of it all.
Nathaniel did not like it. But, well, so far it was harmless. So far it had done nothing but sit there offensively, looking creepy and odd with its missing eye and the gaping empty hole beneath it. In the morning he would maybe get rid of it, because he didn't really see the point of keeping it, but it was late, and he had to work in the morning, and so he left it on his beside table for the time being.
It was probably a mistake.
It was a mistake.
He was not himself.
He was sitting - somewhere - and he was watching.It felt like a moving reel being played, except one of those movie reels from the forties or fifties, where everything was clunky and janky and uneven, the reel stopping every once in a while, getting caught in the machine. Nathaniel could see himself, lying in bed - a tanned, freckled young man with tousled blond hair and all too familiar dark circles beneath his eyes (really, did he look that tired all the time?). He opened his mouth to say something, and found he had no mouth to do so.
His body moved. It sat up, and there he was, entirely normal, walking around his room, getting ready. Nathaniel felt a dreadful sense of unease somewhere in the pit of...wherever his stomach was. He wasn't entirely sure he had one at the moment, his heart (metaphorical or otherwise) pounding uncomfortably. From his position, he could see most of his tiny little bedroom, could see himself moving around with stilted movements, jerking open a dresser drawer with unnecessary force.
He tried not to think too hard about where he was. This was not quite right.
He opened his mouth to do something - maybe to yell - but nothing would come out, because it felt like he had no mouth to do this with. Or maybe the mouth he had just didn't work correctly, because he couldn't feel his jaw, or the muscles moving, or his teeth, or anything. He was just...there. Just there. Sitting on a beside table, watching himself - his own body - moving about the room, pulling on a shirt and worn jeans. Slouching on the bed. Picking up his - its - phone to look at it.
Nathaniel's body's head turned. Wide, dead, dull eyes stared at him.
That was unnerving. And, even though he didn't get frightened often, a little disorienting and a little scary, because he was looking into nothing - nothing at all.
The body's face suddenly split in a wide, wide grin, a grin with too many teeth, too much darkness, and -
Nathaniel jerked awake, eyes snapping open with a gasp, half rising on instinct and ending up tangled in his bedsheets. He kicked at them with impatience, finally succeeding in dragging them off of his feet, and swung his legs over the side of his bed, feeling the solid grown beneath his skin. Lifting a hand, he rubbed at his temple, breathing heavily.
"Stupid," he muttered to himself, and took a long, deep breath, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. " 'jus' a dream, Nathaniel. 'S'all it was. Jus' a dream."
He made himself sit for a moment longer, until he was calmed down, and then gave a decisive nod, easing himself back into bed. Nathaniel reached for the covers to pull them back over himself, and his arm hit something cold and smooth in the bed beside him; something small enough to be propped by his pillow.
Nathaniel fumbled around for a second, then finally pulled out the stupid doll, squinting at it. It had both eyes.
There was a long moment of silence.
"No," Nathaniel decided, and threw the doll into the trash, rolled over, and closed his eyes again.
