- “My friend told me this ghost story and then after she made me credit her for the story but that has nothing to do with it: ok so um I might get it wrong cuz I haven’t told it in a while- -there’s a little, girl and she’s a spoiled brat and she sees an old toy store and goes in with her mother and she’s looking at all these toys, but she’s not interested cuz she’s spoiled and then she sees a clown and the clown is sitting like (at this point she held up two fingers on each hand and rocked from side to side with a creepy smile on her face) Remember two fingers cuz that’s very important. So she wants this clown so she asks the toy store guy “Can I have the clown?” but he says “It’s not for sale.” and she says “Seriously, I’ll give you everything in the world for this clown.” but he said” No.” So I think she broke into the store and stole the doll, but I don’t really remember but I’ll go with that, but they got this doll, and they go home um so she plays with the doll and she’s having fun, goes to sleep, she put the doll on her dresser on the side of the room, so she wakes up in the middle of the night ad sees that the doll is no longer on the dresser, it’s sitting by her feet, so it scares her of course, so she’s like whatever and puts the doll back on the dresser, so she goes to sleep again, wakes up and the dolls at her knees, now she’s gettin’ really creeped out she doesn’t know what the hell’s goin on so she throws it out the window and locks the window, goes back to sleep. She wakes up and the doll’s by her face. Only this time it has a knife. So he killed her. The next morning, the maid comes in, and sees the mutilated body of this child, scratch that, so the mother sees, the police come and takes the body away, so the maid is cleaning up the room ,and she sees this doll on the dresser, and she thinks oh I can give it to my daughter, so she takes the doll off, but instead of holding up two, it holds up three fingers. (As she said the last line she again rocked from side to side, this time holding up three fingers instead of two.)”
I asked my friend if she knew any scary stories, and creepily enough she gave me this, a different version of the one my little sister gave me. The two are different ages, from different parts of the country, and have never met. Yet both knew stories of creepy killer dolls. I imagine it’s a side effect of being a young girl who plays with dolls. My informant’s friend “Adrian Hartley” actually claims authorship or the tale, though clearly her friend did not invent the story.