The Doll

Chapter 4

(4)

I might have fainted dead on the spot. It was too unbelievable. Somebody had told me his own real life story. But... I was getting more and more confused. Surely… the other occupants must have recognized him? Where the hell am I going now?

I numbly saved the article ready to print, I didn’t know what the need for it is but I did anyway. When it was all done I scurried toward the elevator. I was walking with my mind clouded when I found myself hesitant to open the door of my own unit. I closed my eyes tightly. This might only be a nightmare. Then I would wake up.

The printed article slipped off my hand when I almost jumped to my feet as I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I slowly turned around to face him. Pete Schwimer. He was the same in the picture only a year older.

“Hey, are you okay? You look… deathly pale.” He cupped my cheek and I willed myself not to push him away. I nodded and tried to smile, or rather grimace. 

“I’m… going… inside.” I was cursing myself for stammering. He squinted his eyes in doubt. My eyes widened in horror when he looked down and saw the clipping with the portrait of his… family.

“You searched for this?” He said softly but the underlying note of danger couldn’t be mistaken. 

I moved backwards as my back hit the door. “It was you.” I whispered accusingly. I could see he was mad at me. “You’re a reporter, aren’t you?” He said angrily. His eyes scared me that I pushed him off me and got inside quickly.

I was leaning on the door for strength. I was breathing heavily. I got to get out of here as soon as I can before things might go out of hand. I don’t really believe in ghosts and avenging spirits. I bit my lower lip, convincing myself that I was just hallucinating earlier. That the woman I saw hanging on the ceiling was just a figment of my imagination.

I slowly walked to my bedroom. I was looking from side to side, searching for any indication of… of… something unearthly. I hadn’t thought how silence could be so loud. I quickly put my things in my duffel bag. My hand was quivering violently. I strode toward the shower room to get my toiletries when I almost fainted dead on the tiled floor. 

I covered a hand in my mouth not knowing what to do. There on the bathroom mirror was the ugliest and scariest handwriting I’ve ever seen. It was written in bold smearing letters of what looked like blood. 

He’s all mine.

I felt like my world was spinning. My head was throbbing in fear of the unknown. This is the fright of seeing but not really believing of what’s happening to me. Did the woman write this? Had Pete really murdered his family? Or… just like what he said of the rumors had he left them for another woman? Why would someone say things like this? Like a possession. A matter of owning if she was… really killed. 

Then my mobile started ringing through the deafening silence. I scampered out of there with my breath hitched. I hooked my bag on my arm and took my phone on the bed. I clumsily answered it but I was a mass of nerves that it slipped off my shaking hand down to the carpeted floor sliding under the bed. I bent down hastily to fumble for it when I knew that I screamed but no words came out as I felt the touch of a cold hand on my wrist. I pulled my hand in quick reflex action, backing away in a sitting position as I was staring wide eyed at my mobile with… Lake.

Just as I heard a raspy voice from my phone saying, “Surprise.”