The Tower Reversed: Back to 18 (Venus) novel Chapter 43

**One Step Changes Everything**
**By Ruby Parker**
**Chapter 43: Do Not Buy the Doll**

“Ms. Oracle,” June exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as she waved her phone in the air like a flag. “You won’t believe what I just stumbled upon on Reddit! There’s this whole thread about raising poppets for good luck. The original poster claims it’s a game-changer—ever since he got one, he’s been promoted, received a hefty raise, and even snagged the girl of his dreams! Apparently, a ton of influencers and celebrities have their own custom poppets to enhance their luck. Do you think there’s any truth to this? Like, really truth?”

Venus tilted her head, her gaze flicking to the screen. As she focused on the image of the doll featured in the post, her brow furrowed slightly, an instinctual wariness creeping in.

She scrolled further down, her eyes landing on a selfie of the poster, a broad grin plastered across his face as he cradled the doll in his hands. Instantly, her judgment was made. “Whether it truly boosts luck is one thing, but look at him—he’s already starting to get spiritually devoured by it,” she stated, her tone flat and devoid of any hint of humor.

Florian leaned in closer, curiosity piqued, and let out a low whistle. “Man, this kind of stuff is rampant in our industry. Raising poppets, keeping familiars, worshipping the Tetravisage, donning holy relics, making offerings to Freyja—you name it. There’s this entire belief system that claims it makes you luckier and more attractive. I used to think it was all a sham, but now? Well, I’m literally a ghost, so… I guess that speaks volumes.”

June’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “I mean, if it actually made you luckier and more beautiful, who could resist that temptation?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Venus cautioned, her voice serious and laced with concern. “You’re only seeing one side of the coin. Do you even have the slightest clue about how those poppets are crafted?”

Both June and Florian shook their heads in unison, their expressions shifting from excitement to uncertainty.

With a calm demeanor that belied the chilling nature of her words, Venus began to explain, “This form of black magic traces back to Southeast Meridia. A sorcerer will seek out a stillborn fetus to craft the doll. The body is burned beneath the chin with a specially-prepared candle infused with dark magic, and the oil that drips from the corpse is collected for ritualistic use. Some dolls are even made from the ashes of deceased children. Once the doll is created, it requires daily worship and sincere prayers. And for those more aggressive spirits, you must feed them blood. The instant you neglect a ritual or decide to abandon the doll, the consequences will hit you a hundredfold.”

She gestured toward the doll in the photograph. “Look closely at its eyes. Don’t they seem disturbingly alive?”

June found herself entranced, her heart racing as she stared deeper. The more she gazed, the more a sense of unease washed over her. The doll’s glassy stare felt unnervingly sentient, as if it were following her every movement.

If it were merely an object, why did an icy shiver crawl down her spine?

“This guy already has a darkened aura about him. If he doesn’t rid himself of that poppet soon, he’s going to end up in a world of hurt,” Venus remarked, her tone grave.

She pulled out her own phone, her fingers flying across the screen as she left a comment on the post.

[That poppet you’re raising is turning on you. I can help. Message me if you want to stay alive.]

It wasn’t long before the original poster, DroppyDump, shot back a response.

[What the hell? Who let the lunatic in here? This is my precious baby! He’s sweet and well-behaved! Ever since I got him, my luck’s been amazing! Get lost!]

As the replies began to flood in, the conversation took on a life of its own.

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