Hello, it is me. P.TV’s resident Haunted Doll Editor. I gave myself that title, because I refuse to let anyone else write about cursed dolls and supernatural stuff.

Feel free to revisit some of my finest work here, and here. And today, we have our very own Australian cursed doll. A haunt little marionette, if you will. And it’s name… is “Letta Me Out”.

Yes I always put my haunted dolls in the middle of my lounge room in a small and terrifying child’s chair.

Letta Me Out has actually been a thing for years and years – here’s some interesting video footage from 2002, for example!

Here’s someone visiting it in 2016!

But since I’d never heard of him, I’ve decided no one else has either bc I am nothing if not completely self-involved.

Letta Me Out was originally found underneath a house in Wagga Wagga – as all good haunted dolls are found.

This was 46 years ago, and owner Kerry Walton apparently – according to Listverse, who give absolutely no citation as to where they discovered this information – named the doll “Letta Me Out” because of it’s apparent European gypsy heritage.

How was your day m8? Do any good murders?

“He was given the name Letta, or Ledda, due to his European gypsy heritage, or because the doll occasionally screams, “Letta me out!”

This really ties in with my imaginary scenario of Letta Me Out wandering the halls of Kerry’s home whispering “letta me ooooout, leeeeetta me ooooout”.

Kerry now lives in Warwick, QLD and still has Letta Me Out, who apparently is still on his BS.

“I reckon he walks in the night time, we came in here as a new house and I’ve never heard so many strange things in my life,” he told Warwick Daily News.

Just relaxin’ between murderin’.

He reckons house objects often shift overnight, that the doll has actually moved IN FRONT OF PEOPLE (absolutely horrific) and that there are scuff marks around his house.

Scuff. Marks. Like small doll-sized shoe scuffs on the floors. Why is Kerry so chill about this.

Kerry reckons the doll was owned by a ye olde child who drowned, after this happened during an interview with a psychic.

“A clock fell off the wall when she was doing the interview and when she was telling us about the kid that drowned, he moved in her lap,”

Mmm. Super okay, that.

I will eat your brains when you’re asleep, Kerry.

Letta Me Out has his own Facebook page, if you feel like inviting his demon into your daily life. Oh, and he writes on there in first person.

SLEEP WELL. SLEEP. WELL.

He also recently created an Instagram account. These pics seem to be devoid of captions, which is somehow… even creepier?

If you’re a complete psychopath or void of your normal “get the hell out of there” brain cells, you can actually go and meet Letta Me Out — he does appearances around the country on request. Follow his Facebook for updates.

You can see Letta Me Out for nix, but if you want a pic it’ll cost you 5 buckeroonies. And also probably your eternal soul.

Image: Facebook / Letta Me Out