Work Text:
Allison used to love dolls.
Before she could speak, her chubby fingers would grip the dolls and move them clumsily around her room.
When she got older, she replaced the porcelain dolls with a husband and a child. She kept them in a dollhouse, and every time they tried to leave, all she had to do was open her mouth.
One day in another universe, she wakes up in a hotel room, with strings sown through her hands and feet and a wooden cross above her.
Allison has played with dolls her whole life, and now she is one too.