The doll sat on the kitchen table, its single glassy eye gleaming under the dim overhead light. Thomas and Elaine stared at it, their dinner forgotten, their minds clouded with fear and grief. The moment Thomas had heard the whisper—Lily’s voice, impossibly weak yet unmistakably hers—something inside him had cracked.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, his voice shaking.
Elaine clenched her hands into fists. “Stop it. Stop saying it’s her.”
“But it spoke. It—”
“No! It didn’t.” Elaine’s voice wavered. “Lily is missing. Not in a doll. Not… in that thing.”
She turned away, but her shoulders shook.
Thomas exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. His instincts screamed at him to believe what he had heard. He reached for the doll, hesitating only a moment before gripping its stiff fabric body. It was colder than before.
“Lily,” he whispered. “If you can hear me… say something.”
Silence.
Elaine shook her head and started toward the stairs. “I’m done with this.”
Then, so faint it could have been the wind—
“…Mommy?”
Elaine froze mid-step.
Thomas felt his breath catch. “Lily?”
The doll twitched. Its tiny, brittle fingers curled ever so slightly.
Elaine gasped and stumbled backward, knocking over a chair. The room suddenly felt unbearably small, suffocating.
“This isn’t real,” she muttered. “This isn’t real.”
But the doll moved again. Its little head tilted upward, its faded cloth mouth opening just enough to whisper—
“…Cold… dark…”
Elaine let out a strangled sob.
Thomas felt sick. “Where are you, baby?”
The doll shuddered in his hands. “…Woods…”
The word sent a jolt of terror through him.
The woods.
Of course, the woods.
His grip tightened. “Who did this to you?”
The doll stiffened, and the light in its eye seemed to dim. Then, slowly, its head turned—not toward Thomas, but toward the window.
Outside, beyond the glass, beyond the porch light’s reach, the woods stood in eerie silence. The trees swayed, but there was no wind.
And for the first time, Thomas had the unsettling feeling that something in those trees was watching them.
Something that had not only taken Lily—but was waiting for them to come looking.
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