The doll scraped it's long claws forward little by little, lunging at anything. It's neck and 'spine' were visible as seamless jointed connected together, extending out into it's bony, yet delicate porcelain limbs. The milk-white skin on it, despite it's sheen had a certain roughness to it's texture, and it searched for it's prey with still black lips and soulless white eyes without a single pupil to peer into. It followed a nearby cat-call into the corner of the building, and briefly saw a blue-haired girl holding some sort of lawn-mower high into the air, ready to slam it down and deliver it to the maws of satan's grip if she had to.
That sight would likely be it's last.
