I heard this story from someone who swears it really happened, though everyone involved is either missing… or worse.

They said there was a boy, Evan, who used to carry his Patchley plushie everywhere. Not the normal kind, either. Evan told his friends the toy “talked,” but everyone assumed it was just a lonely kid making things up.

One evening, Evan convinced his only two friends, Mason and Toby, to sneak with him into the old, rotting Funhouse at the edge of the fairgrounds. He told them Patchley knew a secret. Patchley said Chumbo wasn’t bad, just “sick,” and needed help. And that the boys could “make him better.”

They followed Evan through the warped entrance. The air inside was heavy, muffled, like sound didn’t want to exist there anymore. Mason said he heard someone breathing behind the walls. Toby swore he saw shadows bending toward them.

Then Patchley “spoke.”

Evan held the plush to his ear, nodded, and said his friends had to go ahead without him. “Chumbo’s waiting,” he whispered. They laughed until the laughter echoed back in a voice that wasn’t theirs.

What happened next… people only know what the police found. Footprints in thick dust leading into a hall of mirrors. A smear of something dark trailing along the floor. And at the end of the corridor, glass cracked inward as if something big pushed through.

Mason and Toby never walked out.

Evan did.

They found him the next morning sitting outside the Funhouse gates, holding Patchley, smiling faintly. He kept saying the same thing over and over….

“Chumbo feels better now.”

[Posted by Patchleysayslie]

Before the Funhouse closed… before the disappearance of Bob Stitch… before the StitchPalz became the town’s favourite toys…
there was something else.

Bob’s first creation.

The HarmonyDollz.

They were delicate porcelain figures meant for young girls, painted cheeks, glass eyes, tiny matching dresses. Harmless. Sweet. Innocent.
At least, that’s what parents thought when they bought them from the Funhouse gift stand.
But looks can be deceiving. The HarmonyDollz didn’t sell for long. Most people assumed Bob discontinued them due to “lack of interest.”
The truth was worse. Much worse.

One summer in the late 1950s, a group of six girls, ages 8 to 10, began meeting after school, each carrying the same doll. Teachers noted changes first. The girls were distracted, whispering to empty air, staring at their dolls for long stretches like they were listening.

When questioned, every girl told the same unsettling story:

“She talks to me. She says she can make my dreams come true… if I help her.”

The “her,” of course, being their HarmonyDoll.

Authorities ignored it. Children have imaginations, after all.

Then came the gathering.

The girls invited all their friends, nearly twenty children, to an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town. No one knows exactly what happened inside. Investigators could only piece together fragments of the scene.

The reports describe:

Bodies dismembered with precision no child should possess.

Chunks of flesh missing, as though chewed.

Organs hung from overhead rafters like decorations for some twisted ritual.

Pools of blood spreading across the concrete floor in irregular, sweeping arcs.

And the final detail what made the investigators leave the building in silence…

Tiny, bloodied footprints circling the room.
Too small to belong to a child.
Too perfect to be an accident.
Shaped exactly like doll shoes.

Every surviving girl repeated the same thing when found, rocking back and forth, eyes glazed…

“She told us this would make her real.”

The HarmonyDollz were pulled from shelves overnight.
No records exist of their destruction.

But some locals swear you can still hear the faint click of porcelain footsteps in the Funhouse ruins…
and a girl’s voice whispering…

“I’m almost real… just one more wish…”

[Posted by Scarletbooboo]