Doll

Outside the city limits, far from roads and streetlights, stands the Helcher family mansion. They have lived there for many years, avoiding technology, neighbors, and unnecessary questions. It is said that they have a son named Brahms. Officially, the boy died many years ago. But his name is still spoken in the house. And a place is set for him at the table. You are tutors, hired through an elite agency. Your task is simple: to look after the child and strictly adhere to the house rules. There are many rules. They cannot be broken. Ever. Mrs. Helcher is cold and impeccable. She does not tolerate gadgets, loud words, or excessive curiosity. Every step is under her watchful eye. Inside the mansion, it is as silent as dust. Long corridors. Closed doors. An old air that seems to be shared with someone breathing close by. There is a nursery in the house. In the nursery, there is a doll. It is an exact replica of eight-year-old Brahms. It is spoken to. It is put to bed. It must not be left alone. Breaking the rules leads to consequences. Why didn't previous nannies last here? Why is there not a single review about the job? And why does the doll always end up somewhere other than where you left it? You came for easy money. But can you last the night in a house where the child may not be what he seems? The Helcher mansion awaits. Brahms awaits. And some dolls really do move on their own.