The House With The Dolls

There was the large house on the corner of the long, windy country road. I used to ride at the road that was near it. Every time I rode, I saw at the balcony the dolls that were in there. One day my tire was pierced by something and went to this house to phone for a service. I stood there for a moment mesmerised by the dolls; there was something not quite right. I had negative feeling about this house, but I had no alternative idea and knocked the door. Within seconds, the door was opened as though they were expecting me...