The Three Good Friends

Though unrelated in origin, these three artifacts have developed what can only be described as an interdependent bond since entering the collection. When kept together, activity remains steady but manageable; when separated—even briefly—their influence intensifies. Disturbances escalate in frequency and severity, suggesting that whatever energies dwell within them prefer, or perhaps require, each other’s presence.

The first to arrive was the Vintage Boxing Doll Frame and Head, believed to be handmade in the 1960s. The doll’s head, formed from a dense ceramic and papier-mâché composite, is painted a faded pink and mounted upon a wooden frame body, its joints held together by aged cloth bindings. Acquired from a private collector, the doll was described as emanating a palpable energy—cold drafts, static-charged air, and an oppressive sense of being watched. Prolonged proximity often induces feelings of nausea and unease, leading to the belief that the attached presence may be of a darker nature.

The second, affectionately referred to as The Panda, appears at first glance to be harmless—a small stuffed bear purchased from an antique shop near Yorkville, Illinois. Its unassuming charm belies a shifting temperament. Initially, the energy it projects is timid and gentle, like that of a shy child meeting a stranger. Over time, however, it reveals a mischievous streak: objects nearby have been moved without explanation, and important personal items such as keys and phones have been displaced to entirely different rooms. Though playful at times, there is an unpredictability to its behavior that keeps handlers wary.

The third, a Native American Doll, is perhaps the most unsettling of the trio. Weathered and worn by time, she is constructed with strands of real human hair and tiny carved teeth made from human bone. Believed to have been handmade by a Native American girl, the doll’s exact origins remain unclear. Her presence is heavy with sorrow, occasionally tipping into something more disturbing—producing an almost instinctive feeling that one should not be looking upon her at all. Since her arrival, visitors have reported headaches, nausea, and the sound of a young girl’s voice whispering from the darkened corners of the room.

Though vastly different in form and history, these three objects have become inseparable in both placement and activity. Together, they form a quiet but potent presence in the collection—bound by forces unknown, and perhaps not to be disturbed.