The town of Everbrook had always been strange. If you asked anyone who lived there, they would say it was a place steeped in mystery, a place people didn't often talk about. Outsiders, though, had a different perspective. They didn't know the stories, the ones that ran so deep that they'd become more like a shadow over the place than anything else. And most people never stayed long enough to figure them out.
That was why Sarah had found herself walking down the streets of Everbrook, her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her coat. She'd seen the flyers in the nearby town—a face she didn't recognize, a missing person. It wasn't the first time, but this one caught her attention. It was almost like the face was... familiar. She couldn't place it, but it gnawed at her mind as she drove through the rain-soaked streets of the town.
The houses were close together, huddled in their isolation like survivors of some long-forgotten war. The streets had cracks in them that ran deep into the earth, old and forgotten, like the town itself. The windows of the houses were dark, some of them boarded up, others broken entirely, with glass shards scattered around the yard. Sarah noticed that there were no lights on. Not a single person in sight.
A few steps in, the air began to feel heavy, like it was pressing against her. She looked around, unease crawling over her skin. There was something about the town that made her stomach turn. The silence. It was absolute. No birds, no wind, not even the sound of cars passing by.
She kept walking, her feet crunching against the dirt path. It seemed like every house she passed had the same thing—windows, all dark, curtains drawn, doors shut tight. She felt the eyes of the houses on her, but when she glanced back, there was nothing to see.
Turning down another street, she saw a small shop at the corner. A faded sign hung over the door, its letters barely legible. She walked up to it, her boots clicking against the concrete. The door was unlocked. Inside, shelves were empty. There was dust everywhere, like the place hadn't been touched in years. But there, on the counter, was something different—something that made her skin crawl.
A doll.
It sat there, perched in the middle of the counter. It looked... perfect. Not a smudge on its porcelain face, not a crease in its dress. Its eyes were wide open, staring at her. Sarah stepped closer, her breath catching in her throat. The doll looked so lifelike, so real, but there was something wrong about it. She could feel it.
A chill ran down her spine. She glanced at the window, then back at the doll. For a moment, it felt like the entire room was closing in on her. Something was wrong. She knew it, but couldn't figure out why.
She picked up the doll. It felt cold in her hands, colder than it should have been. As she held it, a strange thought hit her: What if it wasn't just a doll? What if it had once been someone? Someone who was lost, missing, and now forgotten.
Sarah's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening behind her. She spun around, her heart hammering in her chest, but there was no one there. Just an empty hallway stretching into darkness.
She set the doll down quickly, her hands trembling, and turned to leave. But when she reached for the door, she froze. It wasn't open. It had never been open.
Panic surged inside her as she tugged at the handle, but the door wouldn't budge. She slammed her shoulder against it. Nothing. The doll, now sitting innocently on the counter, felt like it was watching her, like it knew something she didn't. She turned and looked back at it, her eyes wide with fear.
There was something wrong with the doll. Something she couldn't explain, but deep down she felt it—she knew it.
The wind howled outside, rattling the windows, and in that moment, she heard it. A faint sound. Soft. Almost like a whisper. She stepped back slowly, her chest tightening. It wasn't in her head. She wasn't imagining it. It was real.
The whisper came again. Clearer this time.
"Help me."
Her throat went dry. The voice had come from the doll. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. This wasn't just a doll. It was something else entirely. Something that had been trapped.
Suddenly, there was movement in the corner of her eye. She jerked her head toward the source. At first, she thought it was just her nerves playing tricks on her, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw it.
More dolls.
They were all around the shop, some hidden in the shadows, some in plain sight, but every single one of them looked like they had been placed with purpose. Like they had been waiting for her. Waiting for someone.
Her breath caught in her throat. She spun around, desperate to escape, but the door was still locked. Her heart hammered in her chest as her eyes flicked to the window. The world outside had changed. It was no longer the rain-soaked streets of Everbrook. The view was distorted, the glass fogged up like it had been sealed off.
Then she saw it.
A face. Pressed against the glass. Its features warped and twisted, like the face of a person who had been caught in time, stuck in place. She stumbled back, her hands fumbling for the door handle again. But before she could reach it, the doll spoke again, louder this time.
"Help me."
It wasn't a whisper anymore. It was like a scream. Her head spun, and for a second, she almost couldn't breathe. The shop felt smaller now. There were more dolls, and the floor seemed to be covered in them. They were everywhere, lining the shelves, piled up in the corners, staring at her with cold, lifeless eyes.
And then she heard it.
A noise, coming from behind the counter. It wasn't a creak or a thud. It was a slow drag, like something heavy being moved across the floor. Something large. Something that wasn't supposed to be there.
Her eyes shot to the back of the shop. A figure emerged from the shadows. It was a person, or at least it looked like one. But it wasn't.
It had the same features as the face on the flyer she had seen earlier, the one of the missing person. But its skin was as pale as bone, and its eyes were dark, like there was nothing inside. Like it had never been alive.
The doll in Sarah's hands moved. She dropped it in horror, the porcelain head shattering on the floor.
The figure reached for her, its hand cold and stiff like the dolls. She scrambled back, tripping over the broken glass and falling to the ground. Her heart raced. Her thoughts were a blur.
The door was still locked. She couldn't escape.
The figure was getting closer now. Sarah's breath came in shallow gasps. She pushed herself backward, away from it, her body shaking uncontrollably. But there was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
It reached her.
And then, the world went silent.
When Sarah woke up, she was lying in the same spot, but the room was different. The dolls were gone. The shop was empty, like no one had ever been there at all. The windows were clear now, and outside, Everbrook was silent. Too silent.
She stood up, her legs weak, her mind clouded. She made her way to the door, her hands shaking as she reached for the handle.
The door opened.
And she stepped outside.
Only it wasn't Everbrook anymore. The streets were empty. The houses were abandoned. There were no people. There was no one.
Then she saw it.
The doll. It was on the ground in front of her, its porcelain face cracked, its eyes staring up at her. And then, she realized. She had become one of them.
The dolls.
The missing people.
Sarah was never seen again.
Her face would appear on a flyer in a distant town one day, and in Everbrook, another doll would wait.