A Gruesome Toy Tale: The Dark History of the Evilstick

In 2014, Nicole Allen purchased a gift for her 2-year-old daughter from a dollar store in Dayton, Ohio, shortly after Halloween. The toy, a princess wand adorned with flower petals, came in a colorful package featuring a cheerful heroine and was labeled as suitable for children aged 3 and above. The packaging boasted that the wand 'Can Send Out Wonderful Music,' making it seem like an innocent, low-cost item that shoppers might casually add to their carts without a second thought.

Allen failed to notice that the whimsical design of the toy concealed a rather ominous name. Displayed prominently at the top in a playful font was the product’s official title: Evilstick.

It was only after Allen returned home that she discovered the unsettling truth behind the toy.

Rather than producing 'beautiful music,' pressing the wand’s button triggered a sinister, maniacal laugh, amplified by the toy’s low-quality speaker. The button also caused the flower atop the wand to light up, revealing a transparent foil image of a woman with hollow eyes dramatically mimicking self-harm.

The disturbing image would be shocking in any setting, but embedded in a child’s toy and accompanied by flashing lights and eerie sounds, it felt like a malicious joke. Allen’s complaint quickly gained local media attention before spreading widely online.

Even after nearly ten years, the mystery persists. Who created this toy? Was it the result of careless counterfeit production, or was there a more sinister intent behind it? And why did an amateur investigator, on the verge of uncovering its origins, suddenly vanish?

Nightmare-Inducing Merchandise

For decades, discount stores have filled their shelves with products manufactured in China, where low labor costs allow for competitively priced goods that dominate the market.

However, this flood of products comes with a significant and chaotic downside: inadequate quality control. U.S. customs officials face the near-impossible task of inspecting every container to identify counterfeit goods or items violating intellectual property rights, resulting in a widespread issue with knockoff products. In 2018, MGA, the creator of the popular L.O.L. Surprise! dolls, took legal action against distributors selling cheaper imitation toys. The battle is challenging—navigating a convoluted supply chain to track down companies and enforce legal actions across borders is both expensive and time-consuming. While MGA successfully held over 80 dealers accountable for counterfeit dolls, many more continue to flood the market.

This intricate distribution network likely enabled Dayton Dollar Store owner Amar Moustafa to acquire a batch of princess wands labeled as Evilsticks in 2012. The 'princess' featured on the packaging was Sakura Kinomoto, the protagonist of the late '90s anime series Cardcaptor Sakura and a beloved manga character in Japan. Similar to Pokemon, Sakura, a fourth-grader, must recover a series of magical cards she accidentally released into the world. Although she didn’t use a wand in the show, the packaging artwork was modified to depict her holding one.

In an interview with Dayton’s WHIO news outlet, Moustafa mentioned he purchased the wands at a retailer’s convention but couldn’t recall the seller. The wands remained in his store unnoticed until 2014, when Nicole Allen contacted WHIO to report her daughter’s distress over the hidden image. Moustafa noted to WHIO that the product’s name, 'Evilstick,' should have been a warning. Allen countered that the toy was displayed alongside Barbie imitations and other children’s items.

Matt Clark, a freelance writer and Dayton local, wasn’t entirely convinced by Moustafa’s explanation. After seeing WHIO’s coverage of the Evilstick, Clark decided to investigate firsthand. 'I knew the Dollar Store’s location and made up my mind to go and get one,' Clark told Mytour.

When Clark entered the store, he approached Moustafa and inquired about the toy. 'He immediately knew what I was referring to and directed me to the back,' Clark recalls. There, Clark discovered a rack filled with Evilsticks. After peeling back the foil covering the unsettling image of a bloodied woman, he noticed that not all the wands displayed the gruesome picture. 'One had a zombie-like character, but most featured harmless, cartoonish images from manga or anime,' he observed.

This was a fascinating find. The Evilsticks appeared to contain a random mix of images, with the disturbing one inserted sporadically. Whether your wand included the horrifying image seemed to depend entirely on chance.

Clark eventually located one with the infamous image, purchased it, and returned home to create a short 11-second YouTube video showcasing the toy’s flashing lights and eerie laugh. 'I made it just to show a friend in Cincinnati,' he explains. 'I never expected it to go viral.'

But it did. By the next morning, Clark’s clip had amassed 100,000 views. This led to a more detailed video review of the Evilstick, which attracted 1.3 million views. Prior to this, Clark’s other YouTube videos had only received a few thousand views each. However, his discovery of the Evilstick sparked a new online fascination.

The Dark Mystery Grows Deeper

As the comments section grew rapidly, Clark and his audience began sharing theories about the toy’s origins. They concluded that the image of the woman with a knife to her wrists likely came from horror photographer Butcher Ludwig, who had shared the photo on his website and Facebook years earlier. Taken in 2002, it was part of his 'Macabre Muses' series, portraying a vampire preparing to drink her own blood for survival.

'The model was around 20 years old when the photo was taken,' Ludwig told Mytour. 'I’m not even sure she’s aware of how famous she’s become.'

Ludwig never authorized the use of his photo on the toy. When he learned about its appearance, he expressed shock that someone had 'ruined' his work. The original image had been altered, with the model’s eyes transformed into a demonic appearance. Despite being copyrighted, it’s almost certain that someone involved in the toy’s production found the image online and used it without permission.

But who was responsible? Clark and his viewers attempted to trace the barcode—the only identifiable mark on the Evilstick packaging. Their search led them to a factory in China. 'I tracked it to a factory there,' Clark explained. 'I reached out to them through Alibaba, and they confirmed they manufactured it. I wanted to speak to someone directly involved.'

In 2015, Clark hinted on his YouTube channel that he was close to unraveling the mystery. His audience eagerly awaited updates, but he suddenly went silent and didn’t post another video until 2020.

A Curse Upon Your House

Soon, theories emerged suggesting the Evilstick might be a cursed object—one that had retaliated against Clark for his inquisitiveness. His final message, hinting that he had almost solved the mystery, sounded like the words of someone who had ventured too close to forces beyond his comprehension.

The truth, however, was far less dramatic. 'People claimed I had fallen victim to the Evilstick’s curse, which is why I stopped making videos,' Clark explained. 'I found it amusing, and it actually made me hesitant to continue.'

The Chinese factory—Clark can’t remember its name—ceased responding to his emails seeking clarification, and the investigation hit a dead end. Another theory suggested it wasn’t a counterfeit item but an intentional act of sabotage. Similar to the infamous Halloween candy poisoning myths, it’s possible someone inserted the gruesome image into a child’s toy to cause distress or create a modern urban legend. Notably, Allen and Clark remain the only documented buyers of the most horrifying version of the Evilstick.

However, this doesn’t account for Justin Sevakis. The home video producer had stumbled upon an Evilstick as early as 2008, six years before the Dayton incident. At the time, Sevakis was living in New York City and discovered the toy while shopping with a friend. Being deeply familiar with the anime industry—his company, MediaOCD, specializes in adapting Japanese series for U.S. audiences—he immediately recognized Cardcaptor Sakura on the packaging.

'It’s a widely recognized franchise,' Sevakis told Mytour. 'There was even an American adaptation called Cardcaptors that aired on Fox Kids.' He took the toy home, where it became a quirky addition to his living room, blending Japanese anime culture with a baffling lack of appropriateness. To Sevakis, the Evilstick wasn’t inherently sinister—it was simply another example of shoddy counterfeit production and poor quality control.

'Dollar stores are flooded with bootleg anime merchandise,' he explained. 'Sailor Moon, Gundam, you name it.' While the disturbing image stood out, the overall cheapness of the product was typical of counterfeit goods. 'It even had a flimsy, almost dangerous feel,' Sevakis added. 'Like handling cheap fireworks.'

Sevakis’s earlier discovery of the Evilstick makes the theory of aftermarket tampering unlikely. The rarity of the wand featuring Ludwig’s image suggests it was only included in a small portion of the stock. Yet, someone took the effort to modify Ludwig’s photo to make it even more unsettling. While Moustafa was right about the name 'Evilstick' being a clear warning, nothing else about the toy indicated it was a horror-themed product. It seemed designed to deceive parents and children alike: the battery tab had to be removed to activate the sound and light features, a step most wouldn’t take until after purchasing it.

Clark no longer remembers who he was in contact with back in 2014. Ludwig also mentioned that he traced the company using the barcode and exchanged emails with someone who claimed they couldn’t address his intellectual property concerns. Today, the barcode no longer links to any identifiable manufacturer. The Evilstick seemed to emerge suddenly, frighten a handful of children, and then vanish without a trace.

Sevakis no longer owns one. Clark turned down multiple offers to sell his Evilstick before lending it to an episode of the TV show The Doctors, which was keen to feature the eerie toy. He eventually sold it to a buyer in Canada. 'Clearly,' he jokes, 'she’s now cursed as well.'