by KR Alexander
The air smelled a lot like Grandma’s bedroom.
Suddenly, I realized just how stupid I was for coming out here on my own. I stopped walking. The air was gravely silent. I could hear everything, though there wasn’t anything to hear.
Until I did hear something, and it made my skin go cold.
Crying.
Vanessa.
I walked slowly to the front door, my feet crunching way too loudly on the dead leaves and sticks, trying to avoid stepping on the doll heads that had fallen on the path. Her crying got louder.
That’s when I heard a voice.
Her voice.
I knew it from the way my blood ran cold.
Beryl.
“I grow hungry,” Beryl rasped, her voice crawling down my spine on centipede feet. “You must bring me another.”
“I can’t,” Vanessa said through her tears. “Please, just let me go.”
“You can, and you will. Or else …”
Vanessa cried out again. I’d never heard someone sound so scared.
I didn’t know what to do. Should I knock on the door? Should I run and get the police?
Before I could think, an angry growl sounded on the other side of the door.
“Perhaps you are lucky. I smell a child.”
My body kicked into action.
I didn’t think.
I ran.
In my rush, I tripped on a doll head and stumbled into one of the birdbaths, knocking more doll heads to the ground. They should have scattered everywhere, but instead they stayed where they landed. And then, slowly, they turned … dead eyes zeroing in on me. I froze in terror.
“Josieeee …” Beryl hissed from somewhere that felt like it was inside my head.
My body kicked into action. I ran straight for the road, over the doll heads. I felt them smash under my feet. I felt them crying out.
Their cries didn’t stop until I was safe on the road.
I ran all the way home, my blood pounding in my ears so hard that I couldn’t think.
My brain was a mixed-up mess. Beryl was real. Beryl was real. I didn’t know how I knew that the voice inside was Beryl’s, but I did. It sounded like the creature that had been hissing outside my window, the voice that had chased me in my dreams.
Only now, in the daylight, I wasn’t being chased.
I ran until I reached my front door, and when I got there I ran straight up to Grandma’s room.
“Grandma, I’m sorry,” I said. “You were right. Beryl is real. I heard her. She has Vanessa!”
But was that right? It sounded like Vanessa was being held hostage. What about her aunt Tilda? Had Beryl taken her, too?
“We have to help her!” I continued, because Grandma Jeannie wasn’t answering. She was breathing hard, and even though it was cool in her room, sweat dripped down her forehead.
Mom came in then. She must have heard me run in, or else she heard me yelling.
“Josie, calm down,” she said, trying to sound soothing. She stepped in and put a hand on my shoulder.
“No! You don’t understand. Vanessa is hurt and we need to help her. Beryl has her!”
Mom sighed. She didn’t answer at first. When I looked at her, she looked almost as tired as Grandma Jeannie.
“Josie, enough.”
“What?”
Mom looked from Grandma to me. Then she knelt down so she was eye level and lowered her voice to a whisper.
“It’s bad enough that your grandmother believes these things,” she said. “But I’d hoped that you were old enough to understand the difference between fantasy and reality. Beryl isn’t real. There isn’t any danger.”
“But—”
“No, Josie. I don’t want to hear any more of this. Your grandmother is sick. You know that. And this is only going to make it worse. Come on.”
She stood and began walking away, leading me out with her.
“But Vanessa—”
“Is fine. I just called her house.”
That made me stop in my tracks.
“You called her? How?”
“She left her number with me last night. So we could arrange another sleepover with her aunt. She also wanted to apologize for leaving so rudely earlier.”
“You spoke with Vanessa?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it.
“No,” Mom said. “I spoke with her aunt, just after you ran off. I figured you might go there.”
My heart was hammering. This didn’t make any sense. Vanessa and her aunt were trapped with the monster. Did that mean … maybe Beryl was forcing her aunt to talk on the phone? Like robbers did to their hostages, to make the police think everything was okay.
Why was I the only one who knew that everything wasn’t okay?
“You spoke to her aunt?”
“Yes, Josie. And she and Vanessa are both just fine.”
“They are?”
“Yes, Josie.”
She sighed again. We were headed downstairs, toward the kitchen.
“You see?” she said. “You’re just letting your imagination get the better of you. Everything’s going to be fine. In fact, her aunt Tilda and I made plans for you. Next Friday, you’re going to stay over at their place. Tilda said she would be very excited to have you stay with her.”
Even though she said it cheerily, it still made my skin go cold.
There was no way I would stay the night there. Not with Beryl hiding out.
It didn’t make me feel any better to know that Vanessa’s aunt had talked to my mom. In fact, it made me feel worse. This meant that no one would believe me.
I only knew one thing: Beryl was real. And she had my best friend and her aunt trapped.
It was up to me to save them.
“Hello?”
Vanessa’s voice on the other end of the phone made me sigh with relief.
It was after dinner, and I’d known I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t at least call Vanessa to see if she was okay. I’d thought about calling the cops but I knew they wouldn’t believe me. This was my only hope.
“Vanessa?” I asked. “Are you … are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “I’m sorry about running off earlier. I don’t know what got into me. I think I was just worried about making your grandma more sick, you know?”
She sounded just like her normal self, and that made me suspicious.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” I asked. “I mean …” How could I say this? If there was a monster in the house, if she was being held hostage, would Beryl be listening in? “Are you alone?”
“What? Yeah, I’m okay. And no, I’m not alone. My aunt’s here. Are you sure you’re okay?”
My heart started hammering. Was she trying to speak in code? Did she mean someone else was there besides her aunt?
“Josie?” she asked. I realized I hadn’t answered.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “I just … you, um, left your bag here.”
“I know,” she said. “Could you bring it tomorrow?”
“You’ll be at school?”
“Of course I will, silly. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Because you were crying a few hours ago. Because it sounded like you were trapped.
I wanted to ask her who she’d been talking to. But I also didn’t want to risk that person listening in. If Beryl was in the house, I had to believe that she was watching.
“I don’t know,” I said. Ugh, I wished I could just ask her what I really wanted to. “I guess … okay, never mind. I guess I’ll just see you at school.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Vanessa asked.
“Yeah. Just … weird day. Grandma’s not feeling too well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Vanessa said. She honestly did sound like she meant it. “I hope she gets better soon.”
“Me too,” I replied.
I was surprised by the urgency in my voice.
I sounded like my life depended on it.
“Josie?” Anna asked.<
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It was late. Probably around midnight, and we had school tomorrow. I’d spent the rest of the day doing homework and trying to distract myself.
I wasn’t surprised to hear from her when she padded into my room.
“Yes, Anna?”
“I can’t sleep.”
I wasn’t surprised, because I couldn’t sleep either. Even with my window closed, I could hear the noises outside. More than just night animals—more than owls hooting or stray dogs barking.
I could hear Beryl.
The rasp of her voice in the wind. The scratch of her words in the tree branches. The tap of her clawed fingers every time a branch struck my window. It had gotten so much worse over the weekend.
Even though I was curled up in bed, and even though the stale air in here was hot, I was shivering.
I didn’t even tell Anna to come in. She ran toward my bed the moment I pulled back the covers.
“She’s out there,” Anna whispered. She snuggled closer to me.
“I know,” I said. “But she can’t get in here.”
Only … in the middle of the night something happened.
I’d fallen asleep. I started to dream of a long, dark hallway, of Vanessa holding my hand, telling me to follow. Of Beryl, waiting at the end of the hall. Calling out. Calling out to me.
No.
Calling out to Anna.
Anna.
“Anna?” I whispered, rolling over.
She was curled up in bed, and even though I know she didn’t have it with her when she came in, the doll was clutched tight in her hands. It seemed to be laughing at me.
Or maybe it wasn’t the doll. I could hear something outside. Not something. Someone. Beryl. Laughing. And calling Anna’s name.
I reached for the doll. She shouldn’t have it in here. It wasn’t safe. If Mom came in. Or Grandma …
The moment my fingers touched the doll, Anna opened her eyes, and I bit back a scream.
“I’m so hot,” she said, her voice distant. “I need fresh air.”
Outside, the laughing grew louder, and I swore I heard Beryl calling to Anna. Just like in the dream. Except now, she sounded victorious.
“Anna, don’t—”
But she was already out of the bed and walking toward the window, like she was sleepwalking, the doll still held tight to her chest.
I stumbled out of bed. The sheets tangled around my feet and tripped me, and when I managed to stand Anna was already at the window. One hand on the windowsill.
“Anna!” I called.
She started lifting the window. The moment she did, a terrible howling sound spilled through the crack. Like wind. Like manic laughter.
And through it all, I heard Beryl calling—“come to me, come to meeeee.”
I ran toward Anna and tried to slam the window shut, but she blocked my way. She had the doll held to her chest like a baby. Its head peeked over her shoulder. And it was laughing at me.
The doll. It shouldn’t be here. The doll was doing this to her!
I grabbed for it. Tried to tug it from Anna’s hands. But the moment I touched it, I flinched back with a yelp. The doll was burning hot.
Outside, Beryl’s cackles grew louder.
“So hot,” Anna whispered.
She began climbing through the window.
Outside, through the wind and the laughter, I saw a shadow at the edge of the yard. Watching. Beckoning.
Panic raced through my chest. I tried to hold Anna back but she was strong. Too strong. Unnaturally strong. She got one leg up.
If I didn’t act fast, I’d lose her forever.
I grabbed a blanket that had tangled on the floor and wrapped it around my hand. Then I grabbed the doll and yanked it from her grasp, throwing it at the wall behind us.
Anna screamed.
And then, a second later, she collapsed to the floor.
“Anna, Anna!”
The laughter outside turned to an angry howl. I tugged the window shut, barely blocking out the noise, and knelt beside my sister.
“Anna!” I yelled.
She blinked.
“What?” she asked groggily.
“Anna—”
She looked around. “What happened? Why am I on the floor?”
“You don’t remember?”
She shook her head. Then, mumbling to herself, she picked herself up and walked to the bed. When she collapsed atop it, she was asleep immediately.
I sat there for a moment, watching her sleep, my heart pounding so loud I couldn’t hear anything else.
Like the laughter outside.
I stood and looked out the window, but there was no shadow. No Beryl waiting by the woods.
When I turned back, however, the doll was still there. Standing on its own by the wall. Watching me.
It was still smiling, as if to say, Next time.
I grabbed it and shoved it into an empty shoebox. I’d throw it out tomorrow, when it was safe to open the window.
If it would ever be safe again.
Vanessa had said the doll would rid us of nightmares.
She was wrong.
They hadn’t gone away.
They’d built up strength.
I was back in the woods. I wasn’t alone in this nightmare. Anna was with me.
We were running, and I wasn’t the only one with a partner—Beryl had brought her dolls.
All around us I could hear them running. Scratching. Scurrying. Climbing.
Their tiny porcelain limbs scrambling over tree branches, tiny and not-so-tiny shadows flitting in the moonlight like bats. Glowing shapes leaping between trees like skeletal squirrels. Chittering and laughing. Watching us run and knowing that we were already trapped.
But that just made us run faster.
Our bare feet trampled over stones and twigs and tiny doll bodies. My feet hurt. My chest hurt from breathing so hard and my fingers cramped from holding Anna’s hand. I couldn’t let her go. I was practically dragging her now, and she was crying, but she didn’t stop running. We both knew what would happen if she did. I wouldn’t let that happen.
“Look out!” Anna yelled.
She pulled me to a stop. Ahead of us, the path was overrun with little dolls. They scurried toward us like albino spiders, some whole, but most of them broken or mangled.
I screamed.
Then I turned and darted through the woods. There was no path here, and the tree branches stooped low, burdened with tiny doll bodies. They yanked at our hair, giggled as their tiny porcelain fingers scratched my scalp. Others scuttled around our feet, trying to trip us, trying to tug at our heels. They pulled at Anna. Tried to drag her away from me. I clutched tighter. I couldn’t let her go. Couldn’t let them take her.
We ran through the dark woods, stumbling as we went, the dolls around us laughing and laughing.
Then we reached Vanessa’s house.
It appeared suddenly—one moment we were surrounded by trees, the next, we were in her front yard. Only now all the dolls that had been here before were missing. Of course they were; now they were chasing us.
I ran toward the house.
We threw open the front door and thudded inside, but we didn’t stop. We ran down the hall, past the empty rooms void of dolls, past bedrooms and empty playrooms. Until we rushed into a room I’d seen before. The one with the door covered in locks.
This one was empty except for a desk with a big glass case on it. And in this case was a necklace—
The necklace Vanessa was always wearing.
I was so captivated that I didn’t even lock the door behind us. Anna was by my side, staring at the case.
Then the door swung open.
A terrifying figure hunched in the doorway. She was covered in layers of robes and animal fur, her hair tangled in long waves around her head like dried seaweed. I expected her to have horns or hooves, but she was definitely human, even if her wrinkled skin was the color of old paper and her eyes glowed white as the moon outside.
“Josie,” she rasped. Her voice. That familiar voice. I’d know it anywhere. “And you’ve brought dessert.”
“No,” I said. I stood in front of Anna. “You won’t hurt her.”
“Hurt her?” Beryl laughed. “I don’t want to hurt her. I want to preserve her. Forever.” She smiled. “Yes, dear. It will look beautiful on you.”
I didn’t have time to ask what she meant.
Behind me, I heard a gasp.
When I turned around, Anna stood there, the necklace around her neck and her face frozen in shock.
Only she wasn’t Anna anymore.
She was a doll.
I woke frantically, a scream lodged in my throat. I was covered in sweat even though Anna had curled all the covers around herself.
She moaned in her sleep, like she was in pain. But at least she was okay. At least she wasn’t a doll.
I leaned over to wake her, to ask if she’d had similar dreams.
When I looked at the dresser, I wanted to scream.
Her doll was there. Sitting on my alarm clock, smiling at us. I swore its eyes were glowing.
I didn’t think. I grabbed the doll and jumped out of bed, then ran to the window. It was daylight out, and there were no shadows at the edge of the trees. I opened up the window and threw the doll outside. It plummeted to the ground and shattered on the sidewalk, breaking into a million pieces and scattering like snow. My breath heaved and tears were in my eyes. But I’d done it. With the doll gone, we were safe. Safer.
Then I heard an all-too familiar voice on the breeze.
Beryl.
She was close.
And she was laughing.
Even though it was light out, it was still too early to be awake. I sat on the floor by the bed, curled up in a blanket, watching the closed windows. And waiting.
Waiting for Beryl to claw her way to us, waiting for my nightmare to become reality and dolls to swarm in. Waiting, and wondering what was going on, wondering if Vanessa was okay. If any of us would be okay.
By the time my alarm went off, I thought I was going to go mad.
Anna woke up when the alarm rang. I turned to her and was going to ask if she’d had any dreams, but before I had the chance, she leaped out of bed and ran from the room.