Because Ted is Just the Tip of the Iceberg
For some weird and unexplained reason, dolls appear to attract ghosts or spirits. A lot scarier, is the fact that they seem to pick up signature traits of the spirits of the children to which they are the closest and carry these so called traits even after their human parallel has ceased to live.
People then collect these dolls as antiques, passing them down to the new generations to come. With so much history under their proverbial belts, it's no wonder that most of us are creeped out by them.
Author Anne Rice [very dear to me because of her Vampire Chronicles] owns a very eerie doll collection. To quote Haunted America Tours, “they can be seen on display at her Doll Museum in New Orleans. Once the site of the St. Elizabeth’s Orphanage, the building now houses Rice’s vast collection and other artistic works. It is interesting to note, however, that Rice once stated that she moved her doll collection to the centralized museum location because it basically bothered her to have them around her house. Prior to the opening of the museum, when she and husband Stan Rice were making one last walk-through, Rice is quoted as having said she “wouldn’t like to be locked in here all night with all of them [the dolls].” Not only are most of the dolls allegedly haunted, they are now housed in a verifiably haunted location.”
One of the most known haunted dolls in the United States – I think – has to be Robert the Doll, from Key West, Florida. A straw doll that eccentric artist Robert Eugene Otto received as a gift from his nanny as a child. Apparently, it possessed its owner and made him its accomplice in all kinds of mischief.
[I would have liked to have had a Robert doll when I was little too. Then, I could have done whatever I wanted, justified it with a simple, “Robert did it!”, and scare the crap out of my grandparents. A brilliant alternative to being punished. Don't you think?]
Haunted dolls have been said to do all sorts of things. From their eyes or heads moving on their own, to disappearing from their perches and appearing somewhere else. The truth of the matter is that a great ammount of weird stuff happens around them.
Its not so much that the doll has a life of its own, but that a spirit or entity has attached itself to it and is using it as a medium to interact with things or people in our plane.
You don't need me to mention all of them, but there have been many reports of haunted dolls throughout history and a list of movies [that are awesome and just give me the creeps] just as long.
It's all cute and sweet when done within the narrow Disney scope.
But, think about it...
[I mean, did you see how Chucky
skewered all those people?!]
Would you find it as cute if you came home to find some beat up doll or toy that you forgot about when you were five lying in bed waiting for your return? What's more, one that you expressly remember throwing away?
By the way, am I the only one that finds it creepy that the boy owner from Toy Story shares the same name [ANDY] – and a small likeness – with the boy from Child's Play? [Just saying...]
I haven't had any incidents with “real” haunted dolls.
Here's as close as I got, maybe someone remembers – with me being so ancient and all – about Xuxa's children TV show in the 90s?
For those that don't, it was a weekday series [and yes, I used to dance to it too] that roused disgruntled parents because of the model/singer/show hostess' skimpy outfits and her bold practice of smothering her lips in bright lipstick and kissing pimply prepubescent boys on the cheeks at the end of each episode.
Anyway, during a birthday party, I got a Xuxa doll as a present. A few of my friends started to tease me and tell me scary stories about rumors of there being some Xuxa dolls possessed by the devil. I didn't believe them [yeah, right] and placed the doll on my bedside table in spite of their warnings.
Were it evil spirits or the powerful effect of suggestion, I was awakened in the middle of the night by the Xuxa TV show's theme song. I looked at the side table and there was Xuxa with her head turned toward me, [obviously] I screamed my head off and could have sworn that I saw the doll's eyes turn red for an instant. My mother chalked it up to nightmares, but took the doll with her so I could go back to sleep.
The following day, two of my cousins helped me get rid of the doll. We ripped off its head, set fire to it, wrapped a rosary dipped in holy water around the remains and buried it – feet up – in a shoebox on our backyard.
Maybe, but it helped me sleep at night!
Come to think of it, the evidence of my gullibility has to still be buried around there somewhere.
Hunting party, anyone? o.O