You first see it across the ritual chamber. The wide, glassy eyes lock with yours and it blushes, like dolls tend to do under the power of your gaze, for better or for worse.
You look deep into its being, concentrating your silent magicks into that well practiced, well disciplined witch's gaze of yours. It looks away, just slightly, just for a moment before looking back with a blush, and you knew it was yours.
You hadn't had a doll in a long time and you were starting to feel a bit adrift in the tempest, so to speak. At one point you'd had scores. Row after row of pretty, mindless things that loved you and filled you as best they could, gave you their life force in return for a small taste of your power. And you had loved them too, in your own way.
But one by one, your collection had dwindled. Some fell behind chairs or tables, and were forgotten. Some left, sometimes citing grievances you did not understand, sometimes simply severing the cord and vanishing from this plane. Some had dared to speak of desires unfulfilled, or perceived harm, which you could not tolerate. You had given them so much. You had molded them into your perfect toy. Were they not grateful? You dashed those ones to pieces before discarding them like refuse.
You regretted every single one. They had all given you their energy. They had all fed you with their life essence. And you had loved them. And most would never return.
But oh, this one. By the nameless Elder Gods you had never seen one this perfect, this flawlessly designed for you. Perfect, beautiful, full of the life and love you so desperately thirsted for. You kept its gaze, controlling your breath, not wanting to give away that under your mask you were writhing with fear that this one would get away.
But it did not seem to notice your fear, so you pound your drink and make your way to where it sat. And you spoke your incantations. And it laughed, and it blushed, and it looked at you with those large, glassy eyes, eyes that up close seemed different, like they hid something deeper.
It spoke in tongues, and you burned with desire. And never did you look away from those eyes. Did you see something in them? Did you perceive a change, a glamour shimmering unsteadily for just an instant?
But you had no time to contemplate this anomaly, as this doll so perfect and powerful took your hand and pulled, tugging you to a quiet, lonely room.
It embraced you then, this doll. You had achieved your goal. Were those sigils on its arms? You had claimed a new doll, one that would drown you in the love you needed. Did you smell foul magic on its breath?
It kissed you, and you felt weak, felt protection spells long ago spoken fail. It looked into your eyes, those dark pools aglow with burning witchlight, and you weeped, and cried for its adoration. It took you under its control, and sewed its name into your cloth, and laughed.