The Witch's Doll ⚢

Chapter 32

A/N

Hey guys! Before you continue reading, I'd like to share my short film trailer with all of you. Just right above here.

Rescatarme (2019) is a psychological thriller short film. Follow Nikki as she tries to figure out why she lives in a distorted reality.

Okay, enjoy reading!

It has not been a good day for Alessandra.

Fate had decided to be a jerk to her today. Her alarm clock had spontaneously died in the middle of the night, which meant that it hadn't rung on time, causing Alessandra to wake up much later than usual, despite Loa's constant attempts to wake her up. Not having enough time for breakfast or a cup of coffee, she had scurried out of the house without even showering.

And just her luck, she found that she hasn't fixed her bike's tires for a while now. She has always been putting it off. Also, foot traffic had been utter shit too and she was fifteen minutes late for work. She gasped at the sight of the place. Her manager, some journalists, and some police surrounded the entrance.

The place had been trashed by some delinquents. The sight of it irked her so much. Alessandra refused to be interviewed.

After receiving an earful from her manager, even if she had the legal right to own the place now, the process of transfer hadn't been approved by the lawyers since Alessandra's name was misspelled in the will.

"Since when was I an 'Alexandra'?" she growled, asking Loa. She didn't care if anyone could have heard her. For all they knew, she was merely expressing her frustrations to herself. "I told her over and over that my name is spelled using Filipino accent!"

She had to stand outside in the cold and spend all day scraping the egg yolk from the pavement and removing the shitty art drawn at the window until her fingers cramped up. And just because fate disliked her that much, she had to go through all of that while having to endure whispers and mischievous taunts thrown her way by her coworkers which the manager called in for an emergency to help them clean the place up.

Needless to say, she was more than relieved when she's finally allowed to get back home. On her way, her mouth hung open. Like miraculously finding a needle in a haystack, she saw a familiar silhouette from the corner of her eye.

* * *

It's seven in the morning when Isla received an unpleasant shock. She lifted her head from the phone she's been reading to call Benjamin to drive her to Harper's loft.

Harper was living alone. For someone who makes it a habit of sneaking and breaking through heavily guarded places, Harper's loft had mediocre security devices. Isla managed to pick through the front door's lock and was able to locate her bedroom.

She scuffled towards Harper's room and wreaked havoc. "Harper Anderson, wake up." Isla snarled.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" Harper grabbed her blanket to cover her front. She wasn't wearing any bra, merely a tank top to cover her front. She woke up to see Isla greeting her with a glare.  "What's wrong?"

Isla shoved her phone into Harper's hand roughly. "Read it." She ordered.

Still bewildered, Harper looked down at the UKN news page and began to read aloud. "'Alleged rapist nearly gets suffocated by condom because of an angry victim.'"

"Not that!" Isla groaned and pointed at a smaller article in the corner of the page. "This one."

"Property damaged by violent reformists." Harper's eyes widen. "Yesterday evening, a flower shop suffered great damage. Pictures obtained show that the structure had been vandalized severely, with mysterious graphics painted onto the walls of the building. Experts suggest that these illustrations could depict warnings by gangs or even cults. Witnesses have stated that two people wearing white reformist masks were seen trespassing the property. Police speculate that these suspects were the remaining members of the reformist group led by Minister of Defense's son—Graham Galloway—and were seeking either revenge or salvation. They are the prime suspects of this case. If anyone has seen these suspects, please contact the authorities immediately."