🪆 Haunted Dollhouse Story – The Terrifying Curse of the Cursed Dollhouse

 In a small town stood an abandoned house, known by locals as the cursed dollhouse. Years ago, a young girl named Meera lived there with her family. She loved her collection of dolls, treating them like her closest friends. But one stormy night, tragedy struck. The family vanished mysteriously, leaving behind only the dolls, sitting silently in the house.

People who dared to enter the house claimed the dolls were alive. Their glass eyes followed every movement, and whispers filled the air when the wind was still. Some visitors even swore the dolls changed positions overnight—smiling one moment, frowning the next.

A tenant once moved into the house, thinking it was just a superstition. At first, everything seemed normal. But soon, he began hearing laughter in the dark. The dolls appeared closer to his bed each night. On the seventh night, neighbors heard his screams, but when they rushed inside, the tenant was gone. Only a new doll sat among the old ones, eerily resembling him.

Since then, no one dares to step inside the haunted dollhouse. The dolls wait silently, their cracked faces holding secrets of souls trapped within.

The Haunted Ride: Auto Rickshaw Driver’s Real Horror Story at Midnight

 Rakesh, an auto-rickshaw driver in a small Indian town, often drove late into the night to earn extra money. One such night, as the clock struck past midnight, he noticed a lone woman standing under a dim streetlight. She was dressed in a pure white saree, her face half-covered by her hair. She quietly raised her hand, asking for a ride. Without hesitation, Rakesh stopped and let her sit in the back.

The woman remained silent throughout the journey, and the air inside the rickshaw felt strangely cold. As Rakesh glanced at the rear-view mirror, his blood froze— the seat was empty! Shocked, he turned back quickly, only to find no one there. Panicking, he pulled the rickshaw over. Suddenly, a chilling laugh echoed around him, and he saw her standing right next to the vehicle. Her face was pale, her eyes glowed blood red, and her lips curved into a horrifying smile.

Rakesh’s hands trembled as he started the rickshaw and sped away without looking back. The haunting laughter followed him until he reached home. That night, he swore never to pick up passengers on lonely roads after midnight again. Some rides, he realized, are not meant for the liv

ing.