For sixteen years something took people and made dolls. Little did we know the dolls were alive.
Brother built a shrine for them so we could remember the poor people who were gone.
But they were not happy.
They took the circus me brother and sister.
We escaped them and burned them down every.single .one.
Or so we thought .
One escaped. The clown.
He was a kind fellow made lovely balloon animals. He was very nice and polite.
But when became one of the dolls he became demented and cruel the worst of them.
He killed and killed and killed.
And when we found him sitting on our door step after three years.
I screamed and screamed and screamed.