Creepy - My Mother Collects Porcelain Dolls and She Calls Them Her Children

Episode Date: April 29, 2021

Some people collect shoes...***Written by BeaKStories narrated by Heather Thomas***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

This is the bloody disgusting podcast network. No. This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepypastas and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or how simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories make no. contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised.

Creepy presents. My mother collects porcelain dolls, and she calls them her children. Written by B.K. Stories and narrated by Heather Thomas. It was the morning of my 16th birthday, and I woke up to my mom standing by my side, telling me that it was late, and I had to get up. The sun was beaming in my face, and I realized quickly that I was late for school, and I hated going when I was already late.

I hated having everyone's eyes on you while you're trying to explain yourself. So I fake coughed and I lied. I'm not feeling so good. I turned off your alarm, dear, and I have already called you in sick. You did? I asked with my normal voice. I'll be it a little tired. I sat up. Why? It's a big day, of course. And I have a surprise for you, but it can't wait much longer now. Are you coming? Sure, I said, and got out of bed. All I wanted was to sleep just a little bit more. But I knew better than to argue with my mom. First, we have to get you ready. I'll help you with your hair and makeup and...

Where are we going? I asked. And could you put on that beautiful black dress I bought you, dear? She asked, ignoring my question. She helped me get ready for whatever it was she had planned, and she wouldn't even let me go to the bathroom without a blindfold. Once we were done, she looked a little nervous. She didn't put on my blindfold again because she didn't want to ruin my makeup.

but she did ask me to close my eyes while she was leading me out from my bedroom. I did, as she asked me to. When we came into the living room, I could feel the temperature drop, and everything just seemed darker. It's hard to explain, but it felt as if someone was watching me, and keeping my eyes closed was hard. I wanted to know what was going on, and honestly, I was a little scared. It was just the feeling I had

That something wasn't quite right Why is it so cold? I didn't mean for it to come out as a whisper, But it did, and my mom just chuckled. Don't worry about it, dear. The surprise requires it, she said. Just keep your eyes closed, and we'll be there soon. Where is it?

I asked. But I soon got my answer without her. having to say anything else. She opened a door in front of us, and we began walking down some stairs. I realized quickly that we were going to the basement, because it was the only part of our house that had stairs. I stopped and I opened my eyes. I had never been allowed down into the basement before.

When I was just a little girl, I tried to go down there once, but my mother scared me half to death, and after that I had never even. and dared trying again. I think I must have developed some kind of fear for the place, and I just couldn't take it. So I turned around, and I stared wide-eyed at my mom.

Why are we going down there? I asked, and I couldn't control my voice from shaking a little. It's okay, dear, my mom said calmly and carefully put her hand over my eyes. It's just the basement.

That is where your surprise is. Don't you trust me? Her voice was breaking a little. She did her usual over-dramatic thing, where she pretended to be hurt by something I had said, and it always worked. Of course I do, I said, and that was true, but I didn't want to go down there.

My heart was racing, and the goosebumps I had didn't come from just, to the cold temperature. I just don't like the basement, please. It's okay, my mom said, and turned me around again. She continued holding her hand in front of my eyes, and she gently pushed forward. I swallowed and I reluctantly walked down the stairs

while telling myself that everything was fine, even though I didn't quite believe that. And I hated that I was right. Once we were down in the basement, I could feel cold and hard hands grabbing my wrists while my mom chuckled again. She let go of me, and I opened my eyes to a room filled with life-sized porcelain dolls. I recognized every single one of them. They were bigger now, but there was no doubt that these were the same dolls I had seen every day

standing on every table, every cupboard, and every shelf in our house, except for my room. What the hell? I asked and looked around the room and shocked. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. And I didn't even struggle when I got pushed down on a chair. And one of the dolls tied my wrists together. It was as if I had frozen, unable to move and unable to think clearly. I watched my mom walk over to the other side of the room where she picked up a syringe. Was this a dream? Was this a prank meant to scare me for some reason? Were these dolls just people?

Dressed as the porcelain dolls that my mom knew I had never been that fond of? But I couldn't believe that. It seemed too real. I took a deep breath, ready to scream, as everything that was going on finally caught up with me. I didn't understand it, but I knew that something terrible was going on, unless it was just a horrible prank after all.

But the doll that had tied my wrists together put her hand over my mouth, she whispered in my ear. I didn't know that a voice could possibly sound so empty. My twin sister tried that. I stopped when she threatened us. But my sister didn't, and she got disposed of. Believe me, you don't want to know what that means. I am your only chance, and I will help you,

if you promised to let me come with you. Confused and too scared to do anything else, I nodded, and she removed her hand from my mouth. On the other side of the room, my mom was filling the syringe with some kind of liquid from a pot. She turned around and smiled at me. Happy birthday, my little doll, she exclaimed, and I shuddered. My little doll was something she always called me when I was a little kid, and I always hated it.

She hadn't called me that in years, though, because I asked her not to do that anymore when I was 12. Surprisingly, she had actually respected that. You will finally become a true part of the family, and you're being such a good little girl. She took a couple steps closer to me as she proudly looked around at the dolls that were standing in the room. Her family. Distract her, the helpful doll whispered before she walked away a bit. Why are you doing this? I asked with a hoarse voice while I watch.

the doll walk over to the liquid my mom had filled the syringe with just moments earlier. My mom laughed. When I was a young woman, only 20 years old, but oh, that was such a long time ago now, my dear. I had a son of my own, but he was taken away from me. On his 17th birthday, he died. That day, I swore to rescue as many children as I ever could, and... Where do the kids come from? I asked.

Where? Where did I come from? None of that matters now, my dear. She smiled and raised the hand she held the syringe with, as she grabbed my arm with the other hand. I whimpered. Please? I begged. Mother. The helpful doll said.

I had watched her take a bottle from the shelf and pour something in the pot with the liquid, while everyone else had their eyes on me. Isn't this what you used when you disposed of? The misbehaving one? Mom turned around and quickly walked over to her. Let me see that, she said as she janked the small bottle out of the doll's hand. Are you sure this was mixed in there? she said and stared straight at the doll.

I was far too familiar with that particular stare. It felt as if she was staring right into your soul. It made me shiver, just to think about it, and I tried to sink deeper into the chair. I don't know, mother, the doll said with her empty voice. I was going to clean some things up, and I recognized the bottle from when you disposed. of the misbehaving one.

My mom pressed her lips together and slammed the filled syringe down on the table. Okay, a slight change of plans, she said, clearly annoyed. You have done nothing wrong, my little doll, she said, and looked at me. And I cannot risk that this has been accidentally contaminated. You do not deserve that. But it will, unfortunately, take a couple of them. couple hours before the new mixture is done. She sighed and turned to the doll.

And you. I know this is your first time. So it's fine this time. But my children are not supposed to touch anything until the process has begun. After this, I was brought upstairs again, where I sat on the couch with the helpful doll being one of the two dolls to keep an eye on me. because she had insisted on it. After this, things happened fast. My heart was pounding while I watched the helpful doll

take the chance to attack when the other doll had turned away for just a moment. She grabbed his arms and quickly pushed him forward before he even had the chance to react so that the loud sound of porcelain breaking was heard, probably in the entire house. The doll grabbed my arm and ran towards the door with me.

me, while the other broken doll was struggling to get up, and we could hear footsteps coming from the basement. I haven't been outside since she turned me 16 years ago, the doll said after having opened the door. She stood there, staring right in front of her. We have to go, I said, and saw in fear how the handle to the basement door was pressed down. Now! She listened to me, and we ran. We ran down the street, trying to get as far away as possible.

How would I ever explain a talking, living, oversized porcelain doll to anyone? But it turned out that I didn't have to worry about it. The doll eventually stopped. She was out of breath, and she sat down on her knees. I crouched down in front of her. I promised I would take you with me, but we have to go, I whispered in panic. I don't feel so good, she whispered. I didn't know this would happen.

My name is Ashley. My sister was Samantha. Never forget us. I'm finally free. She said, right before she brought. broke into small pieces right in front of me. For just a moment, I watched the pile of broken porcelain in front of me. I looked up and saw my mom come running after us.

No dolls behind her. Only her. I turned around and I ran from my life. I don't know if my mother is still collecting porcelain dolls. But at least I know why. She calls us. her children. For more information, including pictures and videos of the stories told on this podcast,

please visit creepypod.com. If you'd like to submit a story for consideration or recommend a story, please see our submission page at creepypod.com slash submissions. All stories told on this podcast are done so through creative comments, share-a-like licensing, or with written consent from the authors. No portion of this podcast may be rebroadcast or otherwise distributed without the express written consent of the creepy podcast production team and the story's author.