There was a man whose grandmother died. He went to her house to start packing up her things. He had a few buddies come and help him move the furniture. After a while, all that was left to clean out was the attic.

His grandma had been mute. For some reason, she couldn't talk. She used to carry around a small chalkboard to communicate with. She was a very big and kind woman, and before she became mute, was keen on cigarettes. She always smelled of smoke and tobacco. Before she had passed away, she had always warned him never to go into the attic. She had claimed it was dangerous. Now was his chance to discover why she always said that.

He told his friends that they could go home and went back inside. He pulled down and began to climb the attic ladder. Inside was tons of old dusty boxes. He started taking the boxes down one by one. Behind the wall of boxes was a pile of dolls. After he had finished emptying the boxes out of the attic, he began taking the dolls down too.

Buried underneath the pile of dolls laid a doll slightly bigger and slightly more realistic than all the rest. As he picked her up, he noticed something. Her breath smelled of cigarettes. The thick stench of burnt tobacco came from the slit of her mouth. He put his finger in the doll's mouth. As he did so, he dropped the doll out of surprise. His finger was damp, and it now smelt of burnt tobacco. 'The doll. It licked me. The doll licked me,' was all he could think.

For some reason, he became really sleepy. Although he loved his grandma with all his heart, and before that moment, packing up her things before they were stolen, sold, or thrown away seemed like his entire world, it all just seemed to melt away. It all seemed so unimportant. He left everything the way it was and went home to sleep.

He slept for nearly two days. When he awoke, he felt strange. There were spots of this shiny stuff on his skin. It was the same color as his skin, but it seemed almost plastic. He began to pick at some of it. after he began to peel it off, it started to hurt and bleed. That's when he realized it was his skin. He started to panic. He called his doctor and scheduled an appointment. He was to go see him the next day at noon.

In the meantime, he went back to his grandma's house. He was clearing out boxes from the attic into his truck when he got a call.

"Hello. Is this Mr. Lopez?" A woman's voice said.

"Yes, this is he," he responded.

"My name is Miranda Stephens and I'm from the Washington Morgue. I would like to ask you a few questions about your grandmother," she said.

"Oh. Of course," the man said.

"Well, our biggest question is where on Earth did your grandmother get such a fantastic tongue prosthetic?" She asked.

"I wasn't aware she had one," the guy responded, a bit confuzzled.

"It would be a great help if you could maybe find some papers on it or maybe find the name of a doctor or two. This thing is incredible. It's like it's a part of her mouth. It's like it is her tongue except for plastic!" She continued excitedly. He froze.

"Isn't that a bit odd?" He asked.

"Yes. Yes, it is. That's why any information you have on how she got it is incredibly helpful," she said.

"Um. I'll look into it," is all he said as she said thank you and goodbye and hung up. He finished packing the boxes and got most of the dolls packed into boxes and loaded into his truck too. He called it a day and went home to sleep.

He had terrible nightmares about dolls and his grandma trying to tell him something but she can't because she had no tongue. He woke up in a cold sweat. The shiny plastic splotches on his skin seemed to have grown a great deal in his sleep. He was beginning to find it hard to move. He made himself a late breakfast and started driving to the doctor's office.

He got to the doctor's office right on time. He was examined by the doctor who just seemed baffled. He took a lot of tests and answered what seemed like hundreds of questions. Despite it all, it was a day wasted. The doctor just couldn't explain what was happening or what was causing it. In the end, the only thing that the doctor could say is to pray and hope that it goes away on its own and that they'd do the best they can on trying to determine what's wrong with him.

Disappointed and tired, the man went home and went to bed. He had the same nightmare as the night before, only this time his grandma managed to whisper one thing into his ear.

"Destroy the doll. Don't let anyone else get cursed."

He woke up and felt a strange sensation. It was almost like sudden clarity. The plastic had grown and the man could barely move. As quick as he could, he got into his truck and rushed to his grandmother's house. He went up to the attic and reached the doll. The doll had a human tongue and on all the parts of him that had plastic for skin, the doll had skin. Human skin. His skin.

He picked up the doll and began to take it to his truck. Holding the doll only seemed to make the plastic grow faster. He got out the front door and struggled to make his way to the truck. He was only a few feet away from the truck when he collapsed. He couldn't move any part of his body that had skin on it. All the skin had turned into a thick plastic. Completely helpless. he watched as a little girl ran up to the doll and picked her up. His lips plastic and sealed shut, he was unable to warn her of the dangers the doll carried and was unable to stop her. The last thing he was able to do before his eyelids closed and became plastic forever was shed a single tear. He wasn't even able to feel it roll down his cheek and land on the grass.