Lena sat in the dark, hands trembling. The house was quiet, too quiet, the silence a harsh contrast to the storm brewing inside her head. The Faceless Smiler had come to her again, its presence like a weight pressing down on her chest. It had been three days since it first appeared, but its twisted smile still haunted her.
She never wanted to face it. But there it was, just as it always was. Every time it came, it whispered to her, its voice like a cold breeze, scraping against her mind. "Face it," it said, like a simple command, as if it was nothing but a suggestion.
But Lena knew better. The Faceless Smiler didn't suggest. It didn't ask. It demanded.
A knock at the door. Lena's heart jumped. She didn't have to open it. She knew what was on the other side.
The smile, too wide to be human, split the darkness like a knife. The thing didn't have a face. No eyes, no nose. Just that smile, stretched and distorted, like something that had been forced into a shape it shouldn't have. And when it looked at her, it didn't look at her at all. It looked through her, past her.
"Face it," it repeated, its tone colder this time.
Lena's hands shook harder. She knew exactly what it meant.
The thing was here to make her confront what she couldn't even admit to herself. The guilt. The regret. The shame. The things she'd buried deep inside her and locked away. Her father's face flashed in her mind, his angry eyes, his words cutting into her over the years. Every word he said to her, every moment she had tried to escape him, every mistake she'd ever made, came flooding back in a tidal wave.
"You have to face it," the Faceless Smiler insisted, its smile stretching even further, if that was possible. The walls felt like they were closing in, the air thick and suffocating.
Lena stumbled back, her breath shallow. She couldn't do this. Not now. Not when the memories were so close, so raw.
"I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't do this. I can't face it."
The thing didn't respond. It never did. It just stood there, watching her, that smile unchanging. It was waiting. Waiting for her to break.
And that was the thing. It didn't matter what she did. She could run. She could hide. But it would always be there, forcing her to look at the things she tried so hard to bury. It would kill her if she didn't.
Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't breathe. Her body ached with the weight of everything she had tried to outrun.
But she knew something then. If she didn't face it, she would die. She would die with the guilt, with the regret, with everything she had carried with her all these years.
With a sob, she let it out. The words she had kept buried for so long spilled out of her mouth like a dam breaking. She screamed the things she had never said, the things she couldn't say to anyone. The way her father had treated her. The things she had done, the things she hadn't done.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
The Faceless Smiler didn't move. Its smile didn't falter. But something changed. The room didn't feel so heavy anymore. The suffocating air loosened. For the first time in days, Lena could breathe.
The thing took a step back. Lena watched, her heart pounding in her chest, as the Faceless Smiler began to fade, that horrible smile never leaving its face. It didn't disappear. It didn't vanish. It just... left.
And when it was gone, when the darkness had retreated, Lena collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air. The room was still, but it didn't feel like a trap anymore. She had faced it. She had faced everything she had buried, everything that had kept her in chains for so long.
For the first time in years, Lena felt light. She felt... free.
A soft rustling. She looked up, startled. There, on the floor in front of her, was a small box. Simple. Unassuming.
Lena reached for it, hands still shaking, and opened it. Inside was a small, delicate feather. It was pale, almost white, and gleamed in the dim light. It wasn't much, but it felt like a gift, something that had been earned. Something that hadn't been given lightly.
She sat there, holding it, her breath still shaky but calmer now. She had faced the worst of it. She had done what it wanted, what she had to do.
And she felt, for the first time, that she could finally let go.