Whisper

On the outskirts of the city stood an old house, where a lonely puppeteer lived. His dolls were special. Each one was a work of art: soft, silken hair, exquisite outfits hand-embroidered, eyes made of purest crystal in which a soul seemed to be frozen. With each new doll, he lost a part of himself. He despised real people: considered them weak, twisted by vices, greed, and fear. In his eyes, only dolls were perfect: beautiful, obedient, eternal... Obsessed with the idea of creating his greatest masterpiece, the master resorted to the horrific... Since then, screams have been coming from his house - desperate, agonizing, begging for help. Whether you can distinguish the main difference between a person and a doll or forever remain a part of his collection - depends solely on you.