Marisol closed her door behind her, the soft click of the lock offering the only sense of security she had. The weight of the day settled on her chest, pressing against her ribs like an invisible hand.
She collapsed onto her bed, clutching Eri to her chest. "Why was Aiden so nice?" she muttered into the stuffed bunny's fur. "No one's ever nice to me."
Eri, of course, didn't answer. But in the dim glow of her bedside lamp, the shadows on the walls shifted slightly.
She stiffened.
For a moment, she thought she saw something—an outline, a figure lingering just outside the edges of her vision. Her breath hitched as she turned her head, but there was nothing there.
Just her room.
Just her.
She pulled the covers tighter around herself, her fingers gripping Eri so hard the stitches dug into her skin. "You saw it too, didn't you?" she whispered.
A soft thump echoed from the far corner of her room.
Her pulse spiked. Slowly, she turned toward the source.
Her closet door was slightly ajar.
She hadn't left it open.
The air felt thick, charged with something unseen. A shadow slithered beneath the door—too fluid, too deliberate. It stretched across the floor in an ink-like tendril, coiling toward her bed.
Marisol's breath caught in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut.
It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.
The room fell silent. When she opened her eyes again, the shadow was gone.
But the closet door remained open.
She forced herself to her feet, heart pounding as she hesitantly approached. The darkness beyond the door felt heavier than it should, like a void waiting to swallow her whole.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the handle.
With a sharp yank, she slammed the door shut.
Marisol sighed, laying on her back in bed. The soft glow of her bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room. She held Eri high above her, the bunny's button eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. Her arms trembled slightly from the strain, but she kept them steady, her gaze fixed on the stuffed toy.
"How much longer do we have to put up with them?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible. Then, in a higher-pitched tone, she answered herself, mimicking Eri's voice, "Oh, it's not so bad. They'll get used to you eventually."
Marisol sighed, lowering Eri slightly. "They hate me. Emma and Ryan? They've hated me from the moment we moved in. And Mom… she doesn't even care. She barely looks at me anymore."
Her voice broke on the last word, and she bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. She raised Eri again, letting the bunny "speak." "Your stepdad's not so bad, though. David works hard to give you all a better life. This house is proof of that, right? He wants the best for everyone."
Marisol frowned. "Maybe. But he doesn't see what Emma and Ryan do when he's not around. He doesn't notice how Mom ignores me, like I'm just… an npc or background character."
Eri's tone brightened, her stitched smile glinting in the light. "It'll get better! You just have to keep going. Things can change, right?"
Marisol let out a small, hollow laugh. "Yeah, like how Aiden wasn't as bad as I thought he'd be. He actually talked to me, like I mattered. Almost like… dad."
Her small moment of relief shattered as the door to her room swung open. Emma's voice rang out, sharp and mocking. "Who are you talking to? Your creepy little doll?"
Marisol bolted upright, clutching Eri tightly to her chest. "Get out," she said, her voice low but firm.
Emma stepped into the room, her arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips. "Relax, we just wanted to check on you. Right, Ryan?"
Ryan followed close behind, leaning against the doorframe with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, we were worried you might be losing it in here. Talking to yourself is kinda… weird."
Marisol glared at them, her fingers tightening around Eri. "Leave me alone."
Emma snorted, her smirk widening. "What's so special about that stupid thing anyway? You carry it around like it's your best friend."
"It is my best friend," Marisol snapped, her voice trembling. "At least Eri doesn't treat me like garbage."
Emma's eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," Marisol said, her chest heaving. "You and Ryan—you're awful. You're nothing but bullies."
Ryan's grin faltered for a moment, but Emma's smirk only deepened. She stepped forward, her tone dangerously calm. "Oh, you think you're brave now? Talking back like that?"
Before Marisol could react, Emma lunged forward and snatched Eri from her hands. "Let's see what makes this thing so special," she taunted, holding the bunny high above her head.
"No!" Marisol cried, scrambling to her feet. She reached for Eri, but Ryan grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her back onto the bed. His hands pinned her down as Emma dangled the bunny just out of reach.
"Say you're sorry," Emma said, her tone cold and commanding. "Beg me not to rip it apart."
Marisol struggled against Ryan's grip, her tears streaming as she stared up at Emma. "Please," she sobbed. "I'm sorry. Don't hurt her. Please."
Emma's smirk widened. "That's more like it." She paused, pretending to consider, before twisting Eri's ear sharply. "Oops."
"No!" Marisol screamed, her voice cracking as she thrashed against Ryan's hold. But it was too late. Emma grabbed the bunny by its middle and tore it in half, the sound of ripping fabric cutting through the air like a blade.
Eri's torn body hit the floor, her button eyes glinting faintly as they rolled into the shadows.
Marisol went still. The tears stopped, her breathing slowed, and her eyes—once filled with desperation—went blank. Slowly, her lips parted, and a low, trembling whisper escaped.
"You shouldn't have done that."
Ryan flinched, releasing his grip as he stumbled back. "Oh and what are you going to do about it who would bel—?"
The room grew cold, the temperature dropping so quickly that frost began to form on the edges of the window. The shadows in the corners of the room twisted and writhed, stretching upward like tendrils of living ink.
Emma's smirk faltered, her bravado crumbling. "What… what's happening?"
A faint cracking sound echoed through the room, and both siblings turned toward the far wall. A fissure of light appeared there, glowing faintly as it spread like a spiderweb. The crack pulsed with an eerie energy, the light spilling out in jagged beams that illuminated the trembling figures of Emma and Ryan.
Two clawed hands emerged from the fissure, their long, blackened fingers curling around the edges of the crack. The shadows thickened, swirling like a storm as the figure stepped through.
The woman who emerged was otherworldly, her skin pale and flawless, her black floral Lolita dress shimmering like liquid night. Her crimson eyes glowed with an unnatural intensity, and her wild grin revealed sharp teeth that gleamed in the light. Her movements were unnaturally smooth, each step deliberate and predatory.
The woman's gaze locked onto Emma and Ryan, her smile widening. "What a lovely sight," she said, her voice a lilting melody with an edge of malice. "Seems like agood night for a little fun wouldnt you say, you two."
Emma stumbled backward, her face pale. "W-who are you?"
The woman tilted her head, her crimson eyes narrowing. "I'm the judge and excutioner, my dear emma."
Marisol remained motionless on the bed, her wide, unblinking eyes fixed on the torn remains of Eri. The shadows coiled around her feet like loyal guardians, pulsing in rhythm with the crackling energy that filled the room.
The woman turned to Marisol, her smile softening. "Shh, little one, dry those tears… Eri's here. Eri's always here. And Eri always makes it all… better."
The fissure behind her pulsed again, sending a wave of cold air through the room. The woman raised a hand, her long fingers pointing toward Emma and Ryan. Their cries muffled by the darkness.