I stumbled back from the doll, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My heart pounded so hard it echoed in my ears. This had to be a dream, a hallucination, something. But the gravel beneath my shoes was real, the air was cold against my skin, and the doll—lifeless now—lay exactly where I had found it.
"Get it together," I whispered, running a shaky hand through my hair. My phone buzzed in my pocket again.
I didn't want to look. Every instinct told me to leave—run home and forget this ever happened—but something in me couldn't. I pulled the phone out, hands trembling, and saw a single message on the black screen.
HELP ME.
I swallowed hard, staring at the words. The voice from the doll echoed in my mind. "Now you know."
Suddenly, footsteps crunched behind me. I turned, my pulse spiking, and found Billy standing at the park gate. His hood was pulled over his head, and his face was flushed, like he'd run all the way here.
"There you are!" he called, panting. "What the hell, man? I've been looking for you!"
I stared at him, confused. "How did you—?"
"You didn't answer your phone," he said, stepping closer. "So I came to check the park. You said something weird about it yesterday." His eyes narrowed. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I almost laughed at how close he was to the truth. I glanced down at the doll. "Billy… something's wrong here."
His gaze followed mine to the doll. "What is that?" He wrinkled his nose. "Man, that's creepy."
"You don't get it," I said, my voice low. "Something—someone—is trapped here. I think… I think he's dead."
Billy stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "You need sleep. You're not making sense."
"No, listen!" I snapped, taking a step toward him. "I saw it! A man killed him. Right here. He—he left this doll next to the body, like he was… I don't know, binding him to it."
Billy took a small step back, suddenly wary. "You saw it?"
"I don't know how to explain it." My hands shook, and my voice cracked. "It was like I was there. Like I went back in time."
Billy was silent for a moment, staring at me. "Are you serious?"
"Yes."
He glanced at the doll again, then back at me. "Okay. Then what do we do?"
The question caught me off guard. I blinked at him. "What?"
"What do we do?" he repeated. "If you're telling me there's a ghost or something tied to that doll, then we can't just leave it here."
I looked at him in surprise. "You actually believe me?"
Billy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I don't know if I believe you, but I know you. You don't make up stuff like this. If you're this freaked out, something's going on."
I let out a shaky breath. "Thank you."
He nodded, but his expression was tight, cautious. "So what now? You wanna call someone? A priest, maybe?"
I shook my head. "No. I need to talk to him again."
Billy's eyebrows shot up. "Talk to who?"
"The ghost." I gestured at the doll. "He's tied to that thing, Billy. He brought me here for a reason. He needs help, and I think I'm the only one who can do it."
Billy looked at me like I was insane, but he didn't argue. "Okay. Let's say you're right. How do we talk to him?"
I crouched down in front of the doll, ignoring the way my stomach turned just looking at it. The boy's voice echoed in my mind. "Help me."
I swallowed hard. "Where are you?" I whispered.
Nothing happened.
"Maybe it's broken," Billy muttered.
I shot him a look. "It's not a toy."
Billy held up his hands. "Okay, okay. Sorry."
I turned back to the doll. "Please," I said softly. "I saw what happened. I want to help you. What do you need me to do?"
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, the air grew cold. My breath misted in front of me, and a low hum filled my ears—a vibration that I felt deep in my bones.
Billy stepped back. "Uh, dude?"
Before I could respond, the doll's head turned. Slowly. Deliberately.
Billy swore under his breath, and I nearly dropped the thing. My phone buzzed in my pocket again, but this time, I didn't look. My eyes were locked on the doll as the faint figure of the boy began to materialize beside it.
He was clearer now than before. He looked about our age—eighteen, maybe a little younger—with messy hair and pale skin. His eyes, hollow and dark, fixed on me.
"Thank you," he whispered.
I nodded slowly, my throat dry. "What do you need me to do?"
The ghost looked around the park, his expression sad and haunted. "I need to be free."
"How?" I asked.
He stepped closer, his form flickering like a candle flame. "Find him."
"Find who?"
The ghost didn't answer right away. He looked past me, his gaze far away, as if he were seeing something I couldn't. "The man who did this to me. He's still here."
Billy let out a strangled laugh. "What do you mean 'still here'? He's dead, right? This was years ago!"
The ghost turned his head toward Billy, and my friend paled, stepping farther back. "He is not gone."
I stared at the ghost, dread pooling in my stomach. "You're saying… the man who killed you is still alive?"
The ghost nodded. "He walks among you. He has done this before. He will do it again."
A cold chill ran through me. I could barely breathe. "How do we stop him?"
The ghost's gaze softened, almost pleading. "You must find him before he finds you."
The words hit me like a blow to the chest. My mouth went dry, and I looked at Billy, whose face had gone completely pale.
The ghost began to fade again, his form dissolving like smoke. "Please… hurry."
Then he was gone.
I sat back, breathing hard. Billy grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. "Dude, we need to get out of here. Now."
I didn't argue. I grabbed the doll—something told me I couldn't leave it behind—and we sprinted out of the park together.
As we ran, my mind raced. The ghost's words echoed over and over again.
Find him before he finds you.
Whoever this man was, he was still out there. And if the ghost was right, he wasn't finished.
---
End of chapter