I gasped, slammed the door shut, and ran.
Down the stairs, fast, panic bursting through my chest like fire. But as I hit the bottom step, hands clamped down on my shoulders.
I screamed and spun around, but no one was there.
My body shook. Pulse screaming in my ears, breath ragged. But I kept running. Two steps at a time. I threw the front door open and sprinted out—
But the world spun.
And I was back inside the house.
“What the fuck?” I shouted, turning, trying the door again—grabbing the handle, pulling—running again.
But every time I crossed the threshold, the world twisted.
And I was back inside.
This house wasn’t just haunted—it washaunting me.
I was shaking, uncontrollably. I tried again, sprinting toward the door, but it was useless. And then, I saw it.
At the top of the stairs.
The doll.
It tilted its head.
“I can see you,”it whispered.“I can see you.”
Giggling followed, high-pitched and wrong.
I scrambled for my phone, hands shaking, nearly dropping it. My trembling finger foundTroyin my contacts.
He answered almost instantly.
“T-Troy,” I whispered, voice barely there. “I…”
A sob ripped out of me.
“Can you come get me?”
“What the fuck?” he barked. “I had to open the coffee shop by myself today—where the hellareyou?”
“Please,” I begged, voice cracking. “Someone’s here. I—I think they’re trying to get me.”
“Get you?” he sounded more confused now than angry. “Whereareyou?”
“I’ll send you the address.” My hands barely worked. I dropped a pin and sent it through the trembling fog of panic.
“…Massachusetts?” he asked, voice softening into concern. Then a sigh. “Okay. I’m coming.”
The call ended.
The battery icon blinked red.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and pressed my spine to the wall, trying to stay upright. My lip quivered.
I drifted back into the kitchen like a ghost of myself, trying to piece it together.