“Is someone there?” I whispered into the darkness, my voice hitching due to the nerves going to war inside of me.
My palms turned flat against the mattress as I worked to push myself into a sitting position, but there was a weight on my chest—something holding me down so I couldn’t get up. Fear pulsed through my veins as I helplessly stared out into the darkness.
“Mom?” I choked out.
A soft melody echoed through the room, similar to one I’d heard as a child. And then there was a voice—distorted, creepy, and childlike.
“Hush Little Martyr, don’t you scream. If you do, I’ll rip out your spleen. Your blood will pain the walls so red, but first, I’ll fuck you until you wish you were dead.”
My heart lurched into my throat, my entire body shaking. This was wrong. The voice changed halfway through the song, giving way to a man’s voice. It was dark and sinister, promising nothing short of violence and pain.
“It’s time we’ve finally met,” he murmured, the bed dipping beneath the man’s weight. “Officially.” He tugged at the blankets, but I was too frozen to do anything to stop it.
The cool air drifted over my exposed skin due to the air-conditioning, and I couldn’t fight the tremor that wracked my body.
“W-who are you?” I stammered, right as his cool hands flattened against my bare thighs.
“Alastair.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone as he said it, but my mind was too busy short-circuiting.
Alastair.
The doll.
I’d always believed in darker and more morbid things. Not ghosts or demons exactly, but I never ruled them out either. Possessed dolls, however … I’d never even considered it.
I was the one who brought the package inside. I opened it and brought the doll to my room. My parents never even knew about it. That meant … Dad’s murder was my fault. What happened to me that night wasmyfault. Just like my mom said.
“What do you want from me?” I whispered, shaking as his fingers trailed up the fabric of my sleep shorts and halted right at my waistband.
“Right now?” he asked, climbing higher up my body. “I want to fuck you.”
My breath stuttered out as the moonlight from outside revealed his features. He had the prettiest blue eyes I’d ever seen, and hair so dark it blended in with the darkness surrounding us. There was something ethereal about him. In theory, it made sense. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
“I’ve been watching you,” he continued, settling his weight on my ankles as he tugged at my shorts again, harder this time. The sound of the fabric tearing reverberated throughout the room and my heart lurched into my throat. “Ever since you brought the doll to your room. You fascinate me, Ember.” A cool gust of air hit my exposed legs and I reached forward, attempting to stop him from what he was about to do.
“Please don’t.” I whimpered, my fingers curling around his cold wrist. He was so cold, it had another chill sweeping down my spine.
“Shhh. You know how the original song goes. No crying.”
I might not have cared much about my father, but I’d seen what was done to him. It was beyond gruesome. I didn’t have a weak stomach by any means but seeing that was enough to make my belly twist.
I tried to push his hands away from me, but my body was trembling too much. It didn’t help that he felt like cold marble, either.
“I’ve thought about this moment a lot,” he added, moving his hands farther up my thighs. A shudder of anticipation rolled through me, muddling with the shock and confusion taking up residency within my mind. “First, I thought about making your dad watch as I fucked you. But he got on my nerves too damn much, so I ended up killing him instead. Then … I considered making your mom watch. But this is our first time and tainting it just felt wrong. Plus, after your conversation with her earlier, I’m not convinced she’d care.”
A lone tear trickled down the side of my face, my fear steadily growing until it froze me in place. He spoke of it so casually—like killing and assaulting people was normal. I was far from virtuous but letting thismanhave me after the vile things he’d done was wrong. Right?
He tugged my ripped shorts away from my body at last, tossing them on the floor somewhere. I suppose it didn’t matter if I wanted him or not. He seemed content with taking it regardless. And maybe I was fucked up, but a small part of me wanted him to. Fucking my father’s killer? Yeah. That was a final‘Fuck You’to Daddy dearest. The thought might have made me smile if I wasn’t so terrified.
My heart flipped nervously when my underwear was drawn down my legs and tossed away just as carelessly as my shorts had been. My hands dropped to cover myself, a tremor pulsing though me.
My lips parted on another silent plea, but I thought better of it, rolling my lower lip between my teeth instead. It wasn’t like I had a boyfriend, and the boys at school mostly repulsed me.
Fuck. What was I even thinking?
“You’re so pretty when you’re scared,” he muttered. His voice was raspier than before, filled with excitement and anticipation.
I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling with every nervous inhale. This was wrong. My mind spun, confusion tearing through me due to the conflicting thoughts. I moved to sit up, but his palm met my chest, pressing me back down against the mattress.
