The Laughing Doll

Sarah walked down the dusty aisle of the antique shop, running her fingers along the various curiosities lining the shelves. It had been a long week, and she was looking to unwind with some retail therapy. As she neared the back of the store, something caught her eye on a high shelf.

It was a doll, unlike any she had seen before. It had a china face with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes that seemed to follow her as she moved. Long straw-colored yarn hair flowed down its back and over delicate lace-trimmed shoulders. Its dress was made of silk in a soft shade of pink, with tiny mother-of-pearl buttons running down the front.

What drew Sarah's attention most was its smile. Unlike normal dolls that had somber, neutral expressions, this one seemed to be grinning from ear to ear in an almost maniacal fashion. Its painted lips were pulled so wide that its eyes appeared to be squinting with mirth. There was something unsettling about that smile, yet Sarah couldn't look away.

"See something you like?" A raspy voice said from behind her, making Sarah jump. She turned to see the shop owner, an elderly man with wild grey hair and a bushy beard, watching her with interest.

"That doll up there, what can you tell me about it?" Sarah asked, pointing to where it sat on the shelf.

The man's brow furrowed as he followed her gaze. "Ah, the laughing doll. Been in my family for generations, though I can't say why anyone would want such a thing. Gives me the creeps just looking at it if I'm honest."

"Why do you call it the laughing doll?" Sarah pressed, her curiosity growing.

The man scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Legend has it that whoever owns that doll is doomed to hear its maniacal laughter in the dead of night, no matter where they take it. Some say it's possessed by an evil spirit. Over the years it's brought nothing but misfortune to my kin. You're welcome to take it off my hands if you'd like, I want nothing more to do with the cursed thing."

Sarah should have walked away, but there was something compelling about the doll and its mysterious history that drew her in. "How much?" She asked, reaching for her wallet.

That evening, Sarah sat the laughing doll on the table in her kitchen and studied it under the light. Up close, she could see tiny stitches in its painted smile that pulled it impossibly wide. Those bright blue eyes seemed to bore into her soul, as if daring her to keep it.

Shaking off a sudden chill, Sarah retreated to the living room and turned on the TV, hoping to distract herself. But no matter what she watched or did, her thoughts kept drifting back to the doll in the other room. Around midnight, she finally gave in to exhaustion and went to bed.

That's when she heard it - a high pitched, maniacal laugh echoing through the house. Sarah bolted upright in bed, heart pounding. The sound seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Gripping her bedside lamp like a weapon, she crept towards the source of the noise.

Peering around the corner, she saw the doll sitting motionless on the table. But its smile seemed even wider than before, its painted lips stretched taut. As she watched, it threw its head back and laughed again - a grating, unnatural sound that raised the hairs on Sarah's arms.

She snatched the doll up roughly, hoping the movement would stop the laughing. But it only grew louder in her hands, its tiny body vibrating with malevolent glee. Sarah ran to the backyard and hurled the doll over the fence, desperate to be rid of it. The laughing followed her back inside, growing fainter but never ceasing entirely.

Over the next few nights, Sarah was tormented by that eerie laughter wherever she went in the house. She began losing sleep, jumping at every small noise. Dark circles formed under her eyes and she lost her appetite. Finally, at her wit's end, she decided to return to the antique shop.

"Please, you have to take it back!" Sarah begged the owner as he opened the door. "I can't take another night of that horrible laughter. The doll is cursed, I tell you!"

The man eyed her haggard appearance with concern. "I wish I could help you miss, but as I said - that doll has only ever brought trouble. Best thing is to destroy it so its evil can't haunt another."

Sarah knew he was right. That night, she built a bonfire in her backyard and watched the laughing doll burn, its painted face cracking and blackening in the flames. At first, its laughter seemed to grow louder - a final act of defiance. But as the straw hair caught fire and the silk dress turned to ash, the sound faded away on the wind until only crackling wood could be heard.

Sarah slept easily that night for the first time in weeks, certain the doll's curse was lifted. But sometimes, when the moon is full and the wind howls through the trees, she thinks she can still hear faint echoes of malicious laughter carried on the night air. The laughing doll may be destroyed, but its malevolent spirit lives on...