The Veiled Secrets
A missing girl with a doll left behind…
Varshini T
Prologue
“Change can be scary…” my daughter repeatedly quoted, but we never would have thought that change would overpower our lives. It would stick with us forever. Her voice. My sweet Willow’s voice is all we wanted to hear at this moment. This mournful moment. Generous streams came down our cheeks as we dwelled through the past week of anxiousness, regret, betrayal and loss. There wasn’t a point of us living, was there? We lived our lives for her. There were times I thought of suiciding but I needed to stay strong. For Frank. For me. For… Willow. It just came up to the last decision we’ve been jostling away with but we knew it needed to be made. But I need to think about what exactly happened….
Chapter 1
October 26, 2001
The October sunrise was drenched in hues of pink, orange and purple while the trees exhibited it’s autumn rage and fury as their colours made their final battle to the soil. My 11-year-old, Willow Halbeoji peered out the car window, pondering how the colours thrilled her. Her dad, Frank turned up the radio as I, Carol, hummed along with the tunes and melodies that filled the car. Frank and Willow’s personality went together well. Willow is free-spirited and Frank is care-free. As for me, I’m strict. While the car engine sang to the concerted high-way, I descended the window as the crisp fall wind twirled my jet black hair and blared in my ears. Willow stuck her delicate fingers out and I can tell she relished the roaring winds, with an afterword feel of numbness course through her fingers. When we got there, we took out the cardboard boxes scrawled with a black broad felt-tip marker. This was a start to a new chapter.
As Frank opened the door, you were able to tell it was a very old house, you could already tell by the design. This house and neighbourhood were built in the 1900s but Willow liked the vintage tinge to it. The house was welcoming from the open door to the wide hallway. The floor was an old-fashioned parquet with a superior blend of deep homely browns and the walls were the navy blue of the early winter sky, meeting a bold black baseboard. The banister was a twirl of a branch, enslaved by a carpenter’s hand, it’s grain flaccid in waves of cozy woodland hues. Willow scurried off through the hallway to see the ceramic dish organizers and minimalistic wooden shelves, perfect for Frank. He’s a busy director, what can I say? As we explored more, the creeks of the house would make me jump in agitation. It would sound like thunder pule out from the blackened sky.
Hours later of moving boxes, placing furniture and deciding which bedroom we were getting, it was almost lunchtime, we went outside to the humongous backyard filled with holly trees, native shrubs planted in circular beds. Ahead, laid upon an ominously quiet woods. My footfalls became silent as I was at the border of the woods. I heard a susurration of leaves in the blustering wind. I couldn't make up what the shape was at the end of the woods but it was some type of shed. Not a single shred of sunlight went on, it was dark as a shut garage. As we returned back to the house, Willow stood there and pointed at the woods.
“Dad, can I explore in the woods?” She queried.
“Of course you can!” He exclaimed.
We trotted into the house as I glanced at Willow going into the oak woodshed. I went to work on my computer of me doing an extra workday as a Debt Collection Agent while I felt the floors get dustier, the wood started creaking and the vintage cabinets had tiny scratches almost like a baby did it.
An unpleasant chill orbited around my body as my mind was telling me something bad happened. I look around suddenly as lightning jagged across the evening sky, ripping the vile azure like paper. I looked at the clock as the clock struck 6:30 pm. Willow? Where was she? Has she come back yet? Is she still in the anomalous woods? Did something bad happen? All the questions, assumptions and worries rushed into my head immediately like a waterfall gushing with force. Pushing me down like 50-pound weights. Frank perambulates down the stairs as his question worried me even more.
“Didn’t Willow come back?” Frank catechized.
I shake my head as his face droops with concern. My emerald eyes flitted to the paned window where Frank traipsed out. I got out and started hollering.
“Willow!?” Frank ejaculated.
“Willow!!!!” I screech.
“Come here now!!! This isn’t funny anymore!”
“Relax… she’s probably pulling a prank on us,” he exclaimed.
“Haha, funny prank!” I shriek, sarcastically.
“Willow, you got us! This is getting a bit old,”
They stood there in silence as the leaves scudded, breaking the silence. The quietness made me feel dizzy. My mind felt like the altitude of a snow-coated hill, pivoting my brain. We didn’t hear her laugh. Her cry. Her voice. We only heard the chiselled breeze. I tightened my fist as Frank and I switched eye contact with each other. Where was Willow?
Chapter 2
October 27, 2001
I ran as fast as I could to Willow as she got consumed by pitch darkness. It pushed me away, cascading me to the ground. I bellowed in horror. I couldn't control my body. I kneel down, banging the floor, whimpering as everything becomes hazy. I hustled hard to run up and grab Willow. I saw Willow standing there. She looked down and when I snatched her arm, she howled with grief. I felt myself getting consumed in the whirl of a black tornado and I couldn't get myself out.
“Carol?...Carol?”
I whined myself up as I sweated profusely. I breathed tremendously as if I ran a marathon. I looked around to see if we were in our old house. Maybe this was all a bad dream! Willow! She may be here as well. Frank handed me my glasses and everything cleared up. We were still here. It wasn’t a bad dream. Willow was still missing.
“No sign of Willow?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“Wait a minute, I saw her go into the shed that was in the woods. Maybe it was slammed shut?”
“There could be a chance,” he claimed.
I got ready quickly and sprinted down the stairs. I clutched the doorknob tightly, breathed out and opened the door. We head out as grass was soused with a golden brown carpet of leaves, soft underfoot. The whisper of early winter gusts through my ear. The earthy smell of autumn wheezed through my senses as I drew a breath, walking over the border. The beech trees at the height of the mother nature’s dreams as it bathed in golden in the shine of the sun. We tread our way to the shed. But it wasn’t a shed.
“That isn’t a shed, Carol,” Frank affirmed.
“It’s a decrepit lodge made for one.”
The decrepit lodge stood there, abandoned on the unweeded grass; as the wretched worn timber walls slowly collected mold and dust from the numbing morning dew. Frank abruptly gazed around, frightening me on the other hand.
“Did you hear that?..” Frank murmured.
“No,” I say as I suddenly hear something.
A scream. A strangled cry that didn’t belong here. It was one of mortal terror. I quickly wrenched open the lodge, constantly hearing the scream. The ancient floorboard creaked, abruptly as the latches on the door warped. It spooked both of us as we looked around; inhaling dust.
Willow wasn’t in here! All there was were just some plunged tires, decayed metal beams and rust-covered tools. But, I saw something. A curtain. A curtain that has seen better days but it was covering something.
“Frank, what’s the curtain covering?” I ask.
He shrugs as he walks over and seizes the curtain.
My mind whispers “This was a terrible idea… no way back… disaster… ruin.”
The world seemed so much closer to my eye and the air became soapier, harder to breathe. My thoughts scatter like there's an electrical storm in my head. My mind now YELLS at me; “You failed to be a mom… it’s over… give up… run away…”
Frank unleashes the curtain and what was hidden behind it, horrified me.
It was a doll. A scratched porcelain doll. My heart thumped, it looked so much like a baby in the frosted leaf litter. I looked at Frank as he gave a reassuring hope. I touched its face with my fingertips, the surface was impenetrable. It was more like my teapot than skin. The ceramic skin was cracked like glass and the cherry red lips were smudged like an eyeliner smudge.
“A doll?” Frank queried, snatching the doll.
“I didn’t come here for a doll! I came here for Willow!” I yawp.
“Maybe this is a clue,”
“This isn’t a game, do you think this is murder mystery?” I yelp.
“No, but we should keep it just in case,” He says, brushing its hair with his fingertips.
I rolled my eyes but nodded because he may be right. Maybe someone kidnapped her? We can call the police and they can do it all. No kidding, a kidnapper will leave a doll here so we can find the place and then they will kill us. Maybe a ghost? Urban Legend? I should be scared to death right now. Not thinking about the causes. What should I do? I don’t want to call the police but I’m scared to find out myself.
“Let’s go.”
Those words made me relieved. We walk away, not looking back. Even Though she wasn’t here. I felt her voice in my head. “Mom, help me…”
Maybe it wasn’t only in my mind. Maybe it was in Frank’s mind as well.
Chapter 3
October 28, 2001
I sat there, sipping my coffee, staring at the doll. I didn’t know what to think of it. It was just there, with its celestial glass eyes, making deep eye contact with me. What did this have to do with Willow? Last time Willow played with a doll was 6 years ago. Her dolls never looked like that. I feel her spirit here, maundering in the air. Why would there be a doll anyways? It wasn’t new at all. It was an old doll. I felt a shiver go through my spine as I thought her mind going haywire, breathing too calmly and her skin going pale. She clenched her fists hard.
She taught about what she heard five minutes after Willow entered the lodge. It came out of our neighbour's house. I heard screaming. I heard shovelling. I heard weird mouth noises. I heard a slight call for help. I just thought it was some kind of TV show. Maybe it is. But the weird noise? The shovelling? This is probably what happened. They were watching a TV show that was related to romantic horror and then they went planting. Frank and I decided to go visit the neighbours because they might know more about this than us. I baked some brownies to give to them so they don’t think we are crazy.
Frank stumbled downstairs, half-awake. He was fully dressed and ready to go! I kept calling him but it looked like he was asleep.
“FRANK!!!” I holler.
“Huh, oh sorry, let’s go,”
He rambles over and kisses me on the head. We prowl up to the door as the thought of the noises shock my brainwave. We head out, my heart pummeling like a sledgehammer. We ring the doorbell to see a couple open the door.
“Oh hi… are you the new neighbours?” the woman asks sweetly.
“Yes, we are. We made you some brownies.” I imparted, handing it to them.
“Oh we should have done that for you!” the man replied.
“Want to come in?”
“Okay,” Frank implied.
The house was long and narrow, perhaps only twelve feet wide at the front. But it stretched some thirty feet back like a giant shoebox. They had a one-story extension at the rear of the kitchen. The wood floorboards were dewy and strewn. The blue paint was smooth with an unbroken layer and the window frames were a crisp white top of new wood. We sat on the satin-covered couch as the woman stirred tea for us. I soon found out that the man was named Allan and the woman was named Tiffany. Then Frank went to the point.
“Do you know about the decrypted lodge at the back of our house,”
Allan’s face suddenly becomes stern. Tiffany started to cough. My mind was surging with perplexity.
“Why? Is there something wrong?” I dispute.
Tiffany came over and brought us tea. I analyzed the dainty china cups as we slowly slurp on our tea.
“That lodge has been there for a century now. No one dares to go in there as they say it’s haunted-”
I cut him off.
“We went in there,”
They mutter under their breaths as I’m unsure of what they said. An awkward silence fumes through the air.
“Why would you?”
We tell them the whole story, beginning to end, with minimal breaths.
“A doll?”
“Yes a doll, an old one. When we brought back to our house we heard the voices of a girl.”
“There might be a connection to your daughter and the doll,” Tiffany avows.
I almost choked on the tea and they couldn't believe me.
“Did you look at the back?” Allan inquires.
Frank and I exchanged glances. We didn’t. We shake our heads.
The next 25 minutes went by in a blur of chattering about us and what we could do. They did the same.
“You know we can help you, right?”
I utter to Frank, “they do know this neighbourhood and the woods more than we do.”
Frank nodded and conquered their request.
“Tomorrow we will look at what's behind there,” Tiffany claimed.
“Ok, see you there at three?” Frank queries.
“Four is better for us,”
We get up and say our sincere goodbyes to them. They are probably the nicest neighbours I’ve had in my lifetime, but I couldn't tell if they smiled or sneered.
Chapter 4
October 29, 2001
I tried to scoff down all this information and that questionable sneer. Maybe I’m just imagining things and that was just a friendly smile, But the doll is related to Willow? Pfft! The doorbell rang and the anticipation of seeing what was behind hit me hard. I opened the door to see Tiffany and Allan at the doorstep, ready to go into the woods. Frank and I walked out and we all headed into the woods. The tune of the brumal chill of the woods gusts through my ears. My heart rate surpassed the rhythmic beat coming from inside. I felt my heart completely stopped as I heard the same weird sound that came from their house. I glimpse back, as they awkwardly smile. They were suspicious, somehow.
As we got closer, it felt like my stomach dropped. I felt Frank panting heavily, which made me soon find out that he was nervous. It wasn’t for the lodge. It was for Willow. A care-free man getting nervous? Especially him?! That’s a big thing. We trod up to the lodge as Allan stroked the amber wood logs with his hand.
“Feel’s older than thought, surprised it held itself up for this long.”
“What does that-” Allan cut me off.
“Which MEANS whatever behind this is pretty old, probably decaying as we speak,” Allan recites.
“What would be behind there?” I ask.
“It might be the cause of why your daughter is not here,” Tiffany says her hypothesis.
“Your daughter is not here” rings in my head like a fire alarm. It haunted me like Bloody Mary was stuck in my mind. I didn’t like it. The feeling; that feeling makes you feel like you are buried 6 feet down, alive.
“I have a feeling that this might not be what we think it is. I don’t think this is a lodge for one,” Frank conveys.
We glance at him with curiosity.
“What do you think it is?” Tiffany asks.
“This might be a workshop,”
“Ok enough chatter, let’s look at what's behind there,” I exclaim.
It felt like the matrix. My mind processed everything slowly, as my eyes fazed in a blur. I stopped, exhaling deeply. I start walking again. My eyes couldn't believe what was behind. It was a decayed car. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. It looked like… it’s been through an accident.
“A car?” Frank questions.
“Our daughter is 12 years old! How is this the cause of her missing?” I interrogate.
“I hope it’s not a car accident,”
“Car accident… car accident… car accident…”
I anatomized the car even more. It was under unstable stead. Splintered wood beams rise high up to the decayed metal panels. About to fall off and crumble into rust. The car wasn’t it’s the original colour. Its paint was scraped off, revealing the dark amber colour that felt like grains of sand under my nails. The signal lights were shattered like glass, giving me bad vibes. The tires were coming off and were completely copper brown from the dirt and rust cover. Dust was hanging from the lip of the window with barely-clinging door handles.
“I think you might be right and I think I know how this car had it’s a terrible fate,” I allege.
“You do?”
October 29, 2001
I tried to scoff down all this information and that questionable sneer. Maybe I’m just imagining things and that was just a friendly smile, But the doll is related to Willow? Pfft! The doorbell rang and the anticipation of seeing what was behind hit me hard. I opened the door to see Tiffany and Allan at the doorstep, ready to go into the woods. Frank and I walked out and we all headed into the woods. The tune of the brumal chill of the woods gusts through my ears. My heart rate surpassed the rhythmic beat coming from inside. I felt my heart completely stopped as I heard the same weird sound that came from their house. I glimpse back, as they awkwardly smile. They were suspicious, somehow.
As we got closer, it felt like my stomach dropped. I felt Frank panting heavily, which made me soon find out that he was nervous. It wasn’t for the lodge. It was for Willow. A care-free man getting nervous? Especially him?! That’s a big thing. We trod up to the lodge as Allan stroked the amber wood logs with his hand.
“Feel’s older than thought, surprised it held itself up for this long.”
“What does that-” Allan cut me off.
“Which MEANS whatever behind this is pretty old, probably decaying as we speak,” Allan recites.
“What would be behind there?” I ask.
“It might be the cause of why your daughter is not here,” Tiffany says her hypothesis.
“Your daughter is not here” rings in my head like a fire alarm. It haunted me like Bloody Mary was stuck in my mind. I didn’t like it. The feeling; that feeling makes you feel like you are buried 6 feet down, alive.
“I have a feeling that this might not be what we think it is. I don’t think this is a lodge for one,” Frank conveys.
We glance at him with curiosity.
“What do you think it is?” Tiffany asks.
“This might be a workshop,”
“Ok enough chatter, let’s look at what's behind there,” I exclaim.
It felt like the matrix. My mind processed everything slowly, as my eyes fazed in a blur. I stopped, exhaling deeply. I start walking again. My eyes couldn't believe what was behind. It was a decayed car. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. It looked like… it’s been through an accident.
“A car?” Frank questions.
“Our daughter is 12 years old! How is this the cause of her missing?” I interrogate.
“I hope it’s not a car accident,”
“Car accident… car accident… car accident…”
I anatomized the car even more. It was under unstable stead. Splintered wood beams rise high up to the decayed metal panels. About to fall off and crumble into rust. The car wasn’t it’s the original colour. Its paint was scraped off, revealing the dark amber colour that felt like grains of sand under my nails. The signal lights were shattered like glass, giving me bad vibes. The tires were coming off and were completely copper brown from the dirt and rust cover. Dust was hanging from the lip of the window with barely-clinging door handles.
“I think you might be right and I think I know how this car had it’s a terrible fate,” I allege.
“You do?”
“Yes, as you can see that the tire of the car is coming off which means they needed a tire replacement. Frank and I saw some tires inside the “workshop.” Broken glass means bad luck. The signal lights are broken which might have resulted in this, sadly.”
“That would make sense,” Allan glared hardly through the window.
“There might be something inside,”
I discern through the window as far my spectacles can take me, but nothing. Just must.
“I say we look inside!” Frank declares.
After debating if we should or not, we finally decide to open the door.
The curiosity hit me hard on what was inside. As we yanked open the door, dust wafts up in the air, getting on our faces. It didn’t smell like dust though. It smelled smoky, like burnt wood. We wheezed out until I was able to open my eyes. It was dreadful. The suede seats were burnt like the end of burn paper. Logs were blazing in the front seat beside… decaying skeletons. They were from real people. We screamed in horror.
Chapter 5
October 30, 2001
Those poor people. Burnt alive. I felt a shiver that activated goosebumps. They sprouted from the depth of my skin. What I hope won’t happen to the skulls. Allan and Tiffany are people I shouldn't get suspicious about. They’ve helped us all day and today until 7 pm. I should have not thought they were suspicious. But I’m still worried about Willow. It’s been four full days without her and I’m hyperventilating now. I heard a knock on the door and as I got up, I heard a clunk on the window. I swished the blinds opened. There was nothing. No soul, no animal, no human. I sped to the door and unlatched it. I suddenly hear subtle footsteps and a girl crying. Frank wasn’t here because he went to go check around the neighbourhood. The footsteps got louder and the floor got dustier. It happened again, like last time. It happened when something bad occurred.
The cry was familiar. It was a cry of pain. It was everywhere I scrambled off to. I didn’t understand. Was this the end? At the end of my 35 years? “Runaway… just… run away… goodbye…” sped through my mind as a clash of windows abruptly struck, the footsteps got louder, my heart raced, the cry got louder and… I blacked out.
“That would make sense,” Allan glared hardly through the window.
“There might be something inside,”
I discern through the window as far my spectacles can take me, but nothing. Just must.
“I say we look inside!” Frank declares.
After debating if we should or not, we finally decide to open the door.
The curiosity hit me hard on what was inside. As we yanked open the door, dust wafts up in the air, getting on our faces. It didn’t smell like dust though. It smelled smoky, like burnt wood. We wheezed out until I was able to open my eyes. It was dreadful. The suede seats were burnt like the end of burn paper. Logs were blazing in the front seat beside… decaying skeletons. They were from real people. We screamed in horror.
Chapter 5
October 30, 2001
Those poor people. Burnt alive. I felt a shiver that activated goosebumps. They sprouted from the depth of my skin. What I hope won’t happen to the skulls. Allan and Tiffany are people I shouldn't get suspicious about. They’ve helped us all day and today until 7 pm. I should have not thought they were suspicious. But I’m still worried about Willow. It’s been four full days without her and I’m hyperventilating now. I heard a knock on the door and as I got up, I heard a clunk on the window. I swished the blinds opened. There was nothing. No soul, no animal, no human. I sped to the door and unlatched it. I suddenly hear subtle footsteps and a girl crying. Frank wasn’t here because he went to go check around the neighbourhood. The footsteps got louder and the floor got dustier. It happened again, like last time. It happened when something bad occurred.
The cry was familiar. It was a cry of pain. It was everywhere I scrambled off to. I didn’t understand. Was this the end? At the end of my 35 years? “Runaway… just… run away… goodbye…” sped through my mind as a clash of windows abruptly struck, the footsteps got louder, my heart raced, the cry got louder and… I blacked out.
Chapter 6
October 31, 2001
October 31, 2001
I open my eyes to a fulgurating light, beaming into my eyes. I tried to move my arms but they were tied. With rope. I saw Frank beside me, weeping as a figure came from the caliginous shadows. Two figures. It was Allan and Tiffany!
“What’s happening?” I try tugging myself out.
They sneer, evilly.
“You...traitors! How can you do this to us?” Frank snarls.
“Why do you have us here?”
“Oh ho ho, there's a lot you don’t know!” Allan hissed.
“There’s been a lot behind your back that you don’t know but we are willing to tell you if you give us the information to your productions,”
I looked at Frank, nervously as I tried swallowing a lump in my throat. He never tells a single soul. Not even me. He only told this to…Willow.
“I will never tell scabs like you!”
“If you say so…” Tiffany whispered.
She clenched her fists as her skin got paler than the moon and her limbs were as stiff and cold as a corpse. Her fingers became long and sharp as she ran her finger down her neck, blood spillage catching under her nails. Her voice became high-pitched while her iris and sclera became pitch black like she didn’t even have eyes. Her two front teeth that were apart from each other grew keen as blood was pouring from her eye holes.
“Are you a-” I ask, not believing what I just saw.
“A vampire?” Tiffany fills in.
“Yes,”
“I can kill you for not telling me your secrets,” Tiffany says, coming closer with her hands in a creepy gesture.
“Doesn’t Willow know?” Allan smiles, wickedly
His jaw drops in concern. I shed vague tears with my lip quivering. Did they have Willow?
“YOU HAVE HER!!!!”
“GIVE HER BACK!!!” Frank quipped.
“Are you telling us to do something?” Allan asks, turning into his vampire self.
“That’s not how it works here.”
“We tell you what to do and if you don’t answer, you face the consequences.” Allan snapped.
“I love the taste of fresh blood, don’t you Allan?” She scratches my neck.
“Yes, I do,”
“Where should we go?”
“Carol’s neck,”
Colour drained out of my face as white as a ghost as I incapacitated with fear. I never would have thought in a million years that my death would occur from a vampire. She came closer, clenching her teeth, getting ready for the bite.
“Fine, I will tell you!” Frank blabbered out.
I knew he didn’t want to but he did it for me. I shook my head because I rather die than him giving the information for bad. If I died and he gave the information, they would still kill him off anyways! Frank started buffering in nervousness and I can tell he took the long story. That was quite smart of him to do that. Will they believe it?
“I think you're bluffing,” Tiffany groaned, madly.
She came closer to me. I started counting my last seconds of living on this beautiful earth. This will be my last sob.
“FINE!!! I will… tell you.”
“No don’t! This is the biggest secret you’ve held in your 20 years of directing, you can’t do this now!”
“I won’t let them kill you. You are more important than my job.”
An awkward silence floods the room, hearing the clock ticking. Either the last few seconds I will ever hear or the last few seconds till freedom. Allan breaks the silence, “do you want to know where your daughter is?”
We both nod as he reaches for the doll and raises it up.
“Here,”
“What’s happening?” I try tugging myself out.
They sneer, evilly.
“You...traitors! How can you do this to us?” Frank snarls.
“Why do you have us here?”
“Oh ho ho, there's a lot you don’t know!” Allan hissed.
“There’s been a lot behind your back that you don’t know but we are willing to tell you if you give us the information to your productions,”
I looked at Frank, nervously as I tried swallowing a lump in my throat. He never tells a single soul. Not even me. He only told this to…Willow.
“I will never tell scabs like you!”
“If you say so…” Tiffany whispered.
She clenched her fists as her skin got paler than the moon and her limbs were as stiff and cold as a corpse. Her fingers became long and sharp as she ran her finger down her neck, blood spillage catching under her nails. Her voice became high-pitched while her iris and sclera became pitch black like she didn’t even have eyes. Her two front teeth that were apart from each other grew keen as blood was pouring from her eye holes.
“Are you a-” I ask, not believing what I just saw.
“A vampire?” Tiffany fills in.
“Yes,”
“I can kill you for not telling me your secrets,” Tiffany says, coming closer with her hands in a creepy gesture.
“Doesn’t Willow know?” Allan smiles, wickedly
His jaw drops in concern. I shed vague tears with my lip quivering. Did they have Willow?
“YOU HAVE HER!!!!”
“GIVE HER BACK!!!” Frank quipped.
“Are you telling us to do something?” Allan asks, turning into his vampire self.
“That’s not how it works here.”
“We tell you what to do and if you don’t answer, you face the consequences.” Allan snapped.
“I love the taste of fresh blood, don’t you Allan?” She scratches my neck.
“Yes, I do,”
“Where should we go?”
“Carol’s neck,”
Colour drained out of my face as white as a ghost as I incapacitated with fear. I never would have thought in a million years that my death would occur from a vampire. She came closer, clenching her teeth, getting ready for the bite.
“Fine, I will tell you!” Frank blabbered out.
I knew he didn’t want to but he did it for me. I shook my head because I rather die than him giving the information for bad. If I died and he gave the information, they would still kill him off anyways! Frank started buffering in nervousness and I can tell he took the long story. That was quite smart of him to do that. Will they believe it?
“I think you're bluffing,” Tiffany groaned, madly.
She came closer to me. I started counting my last seconds of living on this beautiful earth. This will be my last sob.
“FINE!!! I will… tell you.”
“No don’t! This is the biggest secret you’ve held in your 20 years of directing, you can’t do this now!”
“I won’t let them kill you. You are more important than my job.”
An awkward silence floods the room, hearing the clock ticking. Either the last few seconds I will ever hear or the last few seconds till freedom. Allan breaks the silence, “do you want to know where your daughter is?”
We both nod as he reaches for the doll and raises it up.
“Here,”
Chapter 7
October 31, 2001: The Truth
Tiffany told us the story from 1900.
“This doll has been in the workshop for as long as the first family has lived in the house you live in. It belonged to a girl named Yuta and she was 6 years old. Her parents bought her many dolls but this is the doll she would always play with. Her parents soon had a divorce so she ended up living with her dad. She despised her dad. She always went into the woods but one day, she was missing for a week. She came back and her dad was so relieved but there was something wrong with her. Something demonic. She would sing random songs about death, blood and knives. She talked to strangers who were in a secret society. One day, she wanted ice-cream so they took the car. They were driving down the humble roads when she soon said “goodbye dad…” and a car crashed into their car, killing her. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She wanted to kill her dad but ended up killing herself. Her dad didn’t know that so he drove to his workshop to help. When they got there, he carried his bloody daughter but the door was shut to the workshop and as he turned around, a person from that secret society bit him. Sucking all the blood out. He died, miserably. They burned him in the car as you saw. They took the girl and put her blood and put it in the doll but they buried her. Those people who were in the secret society were VAMPIRES! They took revenge on anyone and won’t give up until they are gone. Another family moved in 40 years later. They let their 14-year-old daughter, Terra explore and she went into the workshop and touched the doll. She suddenly got zapped into the doll meaning she was the doll. She was there for 50 years until you came.”
“What happened to that family?” I ask.
“They moved away. Every time a little girl who touches the doll becomes that doll. When Willow touched the doll, Terra came here and we killed her, sucking the blood out and burying her in a coffin. Your daughter is the doll now.”
Those sounds, that cry, everything I experienced made sense now. Willow, my baby is the doll now. Frank was able to get himself out of the rope but he didn’t mention it until he kicked Allan in the face when he got closer. I couldn't remember what exactly happened. Everything happens in a blur but we got the doll. Or our daughter. She was in this. There was nothing we could do to get her out. If they did do anything, the result will be her getting herself killed.
THE END
“This doll has been in the workshop for as long as the first family has lived in the house you live in. It belonged to a girl named Yuta and she was 6 years old. Her parents bought her many dolls but this is the doll she would always play with. Her parents soon had a divorce so she ended up living with her dad. She despised her dad. She always went into the woods but one day, she was missing for a week. She came back and her dad was so relieved but there was something wrong with her. Something demonic. She would sing random songs about death, blood and knives. She talked to strangers who were in a secret society. One day, she wanted ice-cream so they took the car. They were driving down the humble roads when she soon said “goodbye dad…” and a car crashed into their car, killing her. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She wanted to kill her dad but ended up killing herself. Her dad didn’t know that so he drove to his workshop to help. When they got there, he carried his bloody daughter but the door was shut to the workshop and as he turned around, a person from that secret society bit him. Sucking all the blood out. He died, miserably. They burned him in the car as you saw. They took the girl and put her blood and put it in the doll but they buried her. Those people who were in the secret society were VAMPIRES! They took revenge on anyone and won’t give up until they are gone. Another family moved in 40 years later. They let their 14-year-old daughter, Terra explore and she went into the workshop and touched the doll. She suddenly got zapped into the doll meaning she was the doll. She was there for 50 years until you came.”
“What happened to that family?” I ask.
“They moved away. Every time a little girl who touches the doll becomes that doll. When Willow touched the doll, Terra came here and we killed her, sucking the blood out and burying her in a coffin. Your daughter is the doll now.”
Those sounds, that cry, everything I experienced made sense now. Willow, my baby is the doll now. Frank was able to get himself out of the rope but he didn’t mention it until he kicked Allan in the face when he got closer. I couldn't remember what exactly happened. Everything happens in a blur but we got the doll. Or our daughter. She was in this. There was nothing we could do to get her out. If they did do anything, the result will be her getting herself killed.
THE END
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