Chapter 3

Jack's heart was racing as he navigated the twisting corridors of the dollhouse. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he had to keep moving. The dolls could be lurking around any corner, waiting to pounce.

As he turned a corner, Jack stumbled upon a grand ballroom. The room was filled with rows of dusty, antique dolls, all seated at tiny tables, surrounded by miniature chandeliers and candelabras.

In the center of the room, Jack spotted a beautiful, porcelain doll sitting on a throne-like chair. She was dressed in a stunning, pink ball gown, and her face was painted with a serene, enigmatic smile.

Jack approached the doll, feeling a sense of unease. There was something unsettling about her, something that didn't quite add up.

As he drew closer, the doll's eyes flickered open, and she spoke in a voice that sent shivers down Jack's spine.

"Welcome, Jack," she said. "I've been waiting for you."

Jack's eyes widened in shock. "How do you know my name?" he demanded.

The doll's smile grew wider. "I know everything, Jack. And soon, you'll be mine."

Suddenly, the lights in the ballroom began to flicker, and the air grew cold. Jack knew he had to get out of there, fast.

But as he turned to leave, he felt a tiny hand grab his ankle, holding him in place.

The dolls in the ballroom began to stir, their eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

Jack knew he was in trouble. Big trouble.

The doll's grip on Jack's ankle tightened, and he felt a surge of adrenaline as he tried to shake her off. But she held fast, her tiny fingers digging deep into his skin.

As Jack struggled to free himself, the other dolls in the ballroom began to rise from their seats, their faces twisted into grotesque, inhuman grins.

The porcelain doll on the throne-like chair laughed, a cold, mirthless sound that sent shivers down Jack's spine.

"You'll never leave this place," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "You'll be our plaything, forevermore."

Jack's heart was racing as he realized the true horror of his situation. He was trapped in a dollhouse, surrounded by living, breathing dolls that seemed determined to drive him mad.

With a surge of desperation, Jack managed to shake off the doll's grip and make a run for the door. But as he reached the entrance to the ballroom, he found it blocked by a wall of dolls, their faces twisted into snarls of rage.

Jack's eyes scanned the room, searching for any possible escape route. That's when he spotted a small, hidden door behind the throne-like chair.

Without hesitation, Jack made a dash for the door, the dolls closing in behind him. He squeezed through the narrow opening just in time, as the dolls were about to grab him.

As he emerged on the other side of the door, Jack found himself in a long, dark corridor. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but he knew he had to keep moving.

The dolls would be coming for him, and he needed to find a way out of this twisted, nightmarish world before it was too late.

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