"Griff?" I shout. The silence presses down on me, broken only by the occasional, haunting echo of the doll’s voice repeating, “Momma… Momma…”
I claw at the remaining dolls franticly. The ceiling and walls groan and creak around me, like they’re pulsing, alive and breathing. My hands are covered in porcelain dust and specks of blood from the sharp edges. I can feel my sanity slipping.
Another scream, sharp and agonizing. “Griffin!” I shriek, grabbing one of the shards of porcelain doll face off the floor. It’s rough and sharp, cutting into my palm.
I stare at the fake window with painted shutters. Jesus, it’s a riddle. An ancient invention to see through walls. X-ray glasses?No, those aren’t real. "A periscope?" I mutter under my breath, shaking my head. No, that doesn’t make sense. "A peephole?" I whisper, glancing around. But that’s not right either. What could it be?
How do you see through walls?
A hole? No— “A window!”
I yank the shutters open, revealing a room of mirrors. The sight is dizzying—a kaleidoscope of reflections. Each mirror shows the same horrifying scene from different angles: Griffin, body contorted, eyes rolled back, tongue swollen and blue.
I stumble back, breath catching. A hand grabs my shoulder, hard and sudden. This is it—this is where I die. I turn, ready to fight, my pulse hammering.
It’s Tessa, eyes wide and face pale.
“Tessa?” My voice is a hoarse whisper, her name barely escaping my dry, glass-filled throat.
“I have to get out of here,” she hisses, her fingernails digging into my shoulder. “I don’t know what’s real and what’s—” Tessa stops, clapping her hands over her mouth, eyes widening even further.
A sound echoes through the air around us, sharp and distinct—footsteps. Heavy and deliberate, each one louder than the last. Boom. BOOM.BOOM. Tick-tock, your time is up.
My heart pounds so violently in my body, I know Lyle can hear it. I know its erratic beating will lead him right to us. I’m the tell-tale heart. Tessa’s grip tightens, her body trembling against mine.
“This is because of you, isn’t it?” she whispers, her eyes darkening. She suddenly pushes me away. “It’s you he wants. Go,” she spits. “Get away from me.”
“Tessa, please be quiet, let’s just?—”
“No, go away!” she shrieks. "If it weren’t for you, none of this would be happening! You’re the one he wanted, not Marissa, not me! You should be the one that dies!”
Her words—the same as Jonathan’s—land like punches, knocking the breath out of me. How can she say that? We can hide together. Protect each other. Fight together. I barely have time to react before she shoves me, hard, her hands slamming into my chest. The impact sends a sharp, searing pain radiating through my ribs, forcing me back. My breath stutters as I struggle to stay upright.
And then, silence.
The footsteps stop and a dreadful stillness settles over us. My heart pounds in the quiet, each beat echoing in my ears, the terror of what’s to come hanging in the air, thick and suffocating between us.
Slowly, Tessa’s jaw goes slack, her eyes widening in sheer terror. I don’t need to turn around to know what she sees—I feel it. Lyle is standing behind me. His presence is a weight pressing down on my spine, his breath heavy and unnaturally thick, seeping into my skin. It’s hot and moist, a damp, rotting cloth against the back of my neck, making my skin crawl. The air around us seems to throb with a sickening pulse, and every instinct screams at me to run, but I can’t leave Tessa.
Even though she’d leave me.
RUN, I mouth.
Chapter
Nineteen
Ilunge forward, desperate to escape whatever is breathing hot and ragged down my neck. My heart pounds as I reach for Tessa’s arm, but my hands are slick with sweat and blood, and she slips away from my grasp. She has to be running with me, right? She wouldn’t just stay and let Lyle get her. I don’t dare look back to check. My breath is fast and shallow, my pulse thundering in my ears as I sprint through the twisting maze of hallways.
Behind me, the crashing sounds grow louder, echoing off the walls in a relentless pursuit. His voice—Lyle’s voice—shouts my name, filled with a sickening determination. He’s coming, tearing through the passages like a predator on the hunt. I push myself harder, my legs burning with each step. If I can just find the exit, get out of this nightmare...
“Tessa?” I pant, my throat dry, whiskey-less.
Oh, God. Why isn’t she answering me?
A door looms ahead, slightly ajar, and without thinking, I throw myself inside. My fingers fumble for the knob, and I yank it shut behind me, plunging myself into darkness. I stumble backward, my hands colliding with wooden shelves. A closet. Small, cramped, but it’s a hiding place.
I sink to the floor, curling into myself, pressing my back against the rough wood. My body shakes with adrenaline and fear, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps. I clamp a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my sobs. Tears burn my eyes, blurring my vision even in the pitch-black. I squeeze them shut, feeling the hot, wet trickle of them down my cheeks.
