The Dollhouse's Taste: Playtime in Blood

In her aunt’s dusty Victorian mansion, Robin Wurmwood discovers an heirloom with an appetite—a dollhouse that doesn’t just collect dust but souls.

When architectural scholar Robin inherits the pink monstrosity on Elm Street, the exquisite dollhouse inside seems like a quaint curiosity—until its porcelain occupants start rearranging themselves to mimic her every move. At night, childish voices whisper from empty rooms: “Play with us, Robin,” and “Won’t you join us for storytime?” These tiny terrors have already claimed two sets of sisters in this house, always leaving one survivor in Robin’s bloodline. Now they’re thirsty for fresh Wurmwood blood to complete their circle.

Armed with sardonic wit and designer heels, realtor extraordinaire Laura Leong is determined to sell this nightmare property—if she can stop being hypnotized by the dollhouse’s promise of perfection. Meanwhile, silver-streaked librarian Marcus Rummage brings his occult expertise and surprising chemistry with Robin to the fight against forces older than the town itself.

As tiny footprints appear in spilled salt and porcelain hands reach beneath doors at midnight, Robin uncovers her aunt’s desperate attempts to contain the entities. But the enigmatic Georgiana Morana, who’s been “preserving local history” since the 1870s, has her own plans for the dollhouse—and for Robin.

This property comes with more than outdated wiring. Some houses keep secrets; this one keeps prisoners in a miniature purgatory where teatime is eternal and escape impossible.