The weirdest thing happened tonight. I am confused about it, and I have the feeling I did something very wrong.

To make things short, I am a content writer for a magazine, and I work at night. The quiet and the overall atmosphere help me to be more productive.

The only problem is that writing at night can be quite irritating. Now I am not an anxious person per se, but the night can be scary. Weird noises, things moving in front of your window or shadows on your balcony. You might know it is a cat, or your neighbor going to the toilet in the middle of the night. Still, it scares you.

Many people think having a balcony is incredible. During the day it is, but at night it can be the complete opposite.

I can’t tell you how often I checked it out. So many times I was afraid to see someone or something out there, watching me or trying to break into my place. I know it is nothing but irrational fears.

Tonight was the same, or at least at first, it was. I was sitting at my desk working on an article about a special edition of some pseudo-popular movie. Late in the middle of the night, I heard the sharp sound of something hitting my window. I jerked and looked up.

First I checked if anything was in my room. Then I tiptoed towards the window. Nothing was there. Next was the balcony door. Nothing again. I relaxed a little. “It is only in your head,” I told myself as I opened the balcony door. I checked the right side. It was clear, nothing. Then I turned my head to the left. I saw a figure cowering in the corner of my balcony.

I jumped back, my heart skipping a beat. Before I could so much as blink, I was back inside and locked the balcony door behind me. I looked around and picked up the first blunt object I could find, an empty glass bottle. It almost slipped from my now sweating hand as I went back to the door.

Something was out there, and this time it was freaking real! I don’t believe in ghosts, monsters or demons, but that thing cowering out there…

I checked again, but from inside I saw nothing. As I opened the door once more, I could see the thing moving on the left side. I slammed the door and took a deep breath. It was way too big to be a damned cat or a bird.

I was waiting for whatever was out there to come running towards me. In my mind, I saw it jumping at the door screaming and trying to force its way in. None of that happened.

Minutes passed. Then I pushed the door open a little further with my foot, holding on to the glass bottle with an iron grip. I looked outside and still saw no movement. With my eyes glued to whatever was out there, I got out my phone. I opened the flashlight app and illuminated the corner.

I gasped. It really was bigger than an animal. As I raised the bottle though, I saw hair, dark hair. Then an arm and legs. Then I saw clothes. It was a person! What was someone doing out on my balcony in the middle of the night?

Armed with the bottle, I yelled out a ‘hello’ that was a little too quiet and not as intimidating as I wanted it to be. I saw movement and was soon able to make out a face. It was the face of a young woman. Her eyes grew wide, and I saw her mouth open, then close again. I saw the bruises on her face and something that could be dried blood. Her hair was a dirty mess. After a moment her mouth opened again, and I could hear her murmur something. I wasn’t able to understand a word. Then she repeated it, and this time I was able to make out the word help.
Then once more, this time a little louder: “Help me.”
She began to repeat the words over and over again.

It was a girl. I told her everything was going to be alright but still held on to the bottle. I asked her what had happened and she started to ramble on. I didn’t catch most of it. I heard something about a group of people, some guys and her trying to get away.

As I gave her a closer look, I could see the dirty, ripped clothes. I noticed the blood stains and could see how much she was shaking.

She finally looked up and told me, pleading that she had to hide or they might find her. After that, her words weren’t audible anymore, drowned out by her sobbing. For a moment I stood there still in shock, but soon got a grip on myself and told her to come inside.

I explained I’d get help and call the police. This agitated her, and she repeated the word no over and over, shaking her head. She seemed way too scared, almost completely out of it. I was quick to assure her that I wouldn’t call anyone.

She heaved herself up. A ‘Holy shit’ escaped my mouth as I saw her whole appearance. I could see that not only her face but her legs and arms too were covered in bruises. There was a long cut on one of her legs. I couldn’t even make out how old she was.

I told her again to come in, reassuring her that it was safe inside and that she shouldn’t worry. As she stepped through the door, I could have sworn I saw a smile on her face.

She took a few steps in and then stood there motionless in the middle of the room. I asked how I could help her but got no answer. I told her that she could use the bathroom to clean herself up and where to find towels. After a few more painfully long seconds of no movement, she went towards the bathroom. Moments later I heard her close the door.

I took a deep breath. What a night. I thought about calling the police again. What if she was a student from the university campus close by? She could be on drugs and was having a bad trip? Or she hung around with the wrong crowd? I didn’t want to get pulled into any of that kind of trouble.

As I stood in my living room, I shivered. The balcony door was still wide open. I went outside again to give the corner I had found her in a quick check in case she had dropped something.

Only at that point it finally hit me. I shivered again. This time not because of the cold. No, it was because of the girl, because of this whole encounter. My hands clung to the railing as I looked down from my sixth-floor balcony.

There was no way someone can climb all the way up here. There was no possible way. I started shaking in fear. How in the hell did she get up here?

I jerked around. Nothing. The living room was empty. I ran towards the bathroom. The door wasn’t locked. No sounds from inside. I pushed the door open and took a few steps in, only to find it empty.

No one in the shower, no one in the bathtub, no one anywhere. Yes, I even checked the ceiling. I checked every single spot, not only in the bathroom but in my whole apartment. There is no one else here. I am all alone. She is gone, vanished.

As I am now sitting here, I keep telling myself that she must have run off; that she skipped out on me. But if she needed to hide, why would she leave? How did I not hear any of the doors open or close? Why is the front door still locked?

And, most of all, why can’t I shake off that little smile I saw as she set foot in my apartment…

Many university students would agree with me that living in the dorms can be a blast.

Here in Germany though, where I go to university, the dorms differ from the typical ones that most people are used to.

They are more like flats shared by multiple people, each with his or her own room. There are a lot of different types. Some house up to eight people, all living together. Others, like mine, are limited to only three.

Ever since I started university, I had the good luck to share mine with only one other roommate. My flat was in one of the oldest dorms at the university. In recent years the number of students had gone back and few people wanted to live here, for various reasons. The building was old and run-down, the flat itself wasn’t the nicest and it was quite a bit off campus. There was one upside that made living out here worth it though: the rent is dirt cheap.

My roommate, Chris, was a great guy and, like me, a first-year student. I wouldn’t call us best friends, but we got along pretty well. We’d often hang out, get drunk, go to parties, or have people come over to our place. Life was enjoyable during my first semester.

It all changed at the beginning of the second one. When I returned from my semester break, Chris was already there, but he was behaving differently. I’d brought a six-pack to celebrate the start of the new semester. Chris, however, didn’t so much as say a word to welcome me.

I was pissed, but I assumed he was busy preparing for the new semester. I knew his second semester would be tougher than mine. Hell, maybe he was in a foul mood, so I shrugged it off for the time being.

I had hoped for things to get better once the semester kicked off, but he stayed as disinterested as he had been the day I came back. At times, it seemed as if he’d spaced out completely.

His way of speaking was off too. It was quiet and almost a bit too monotonous. He was the polar opposite of what he’d been before. Whenever I asked him if something was wrong though, he’d either give me a simple “No,” or he ignored me.

I even invited him to the big semester opening party, but once more, he ignored me. This was not like him, but what can I say, by that point, I had enough of his behavior. Screw him, I told myself as I went out to have some fun.

The party was amazing, I ended up quite drunk and only returned home in the early morning hours.

As drunk as I was, it took me a damn while to open the door to our flat. I must’ve been fidgeting with my keys for minutes before I so much as found the damned keyhole. Once I’d finally opened the door, I saw an ominous figure at the end of the hallway.

“What the fuck,” I cursed in my drunk state before I realized it was Chris. He was standing there, in the dark, staring at me.

“Fuck you and your creepy shit,” I yelled at him before I hit the light switch and made my way to my room and went to bed.

When I thought about it the next day, while nursing a terrible hangover, I couldn’t help but feel weirded out by the entire thing. What the fuck was he doing in the dark like this? Then I remembered how long I’d been fidgeting with the keys and the lock and the noise I must’ve caused. Still, why hadn’t he said a damned word when I’d come in?

I decided to approach him about it, but when I knocked on his door, he didn’t seem to be home.

Once he finally returned home late in the evening, I couldn’t help but stare at the outfit he was wearing. Chris was a somewhat superficial type, always worried about the impression he made on other people. Seeing him coming back in sweatpants and a dirty, worn shirt made me raise an eyebrow.

I walked up to him to confront him about his behavior last night, but he walked right past me, treating me as if I wasn’t even there. This was it. I’d had it.

I followed him and reached out for his shoulder, but before I could even touch him, he jerked around.

His eyes were wide, and he was staring right at me. I froze and for a second there was complete and utter silence.

“Something wrong?” he asked me.

His voice was toneless, empty, without a hint of emotion. It sounded so strange, as if certain vowels were a bit too drawn-out.

“No, it’s nothing,” I answered, slightly freaked out.

Without another word, he turned back around and vanished inside his room. Only when he’d closed the door, I dared to breathe again. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him?

After that, I didn’t see him again for a few days. I don’t know where he went or what he was up to. None of our mutual friends had even seen him at university. I started to get seriously crept out by this entire thing.

It was today though that I learned just how much was wrong about this whole situation.

After my lectures for the day were over, I spent the evening talking to some old friends from high school via Skype. Ever since I started university I don’t see them as often as I used to. So these evenings are a pleasant way of catching up and playing some games. It was almost midnight when we called it a night.

I cursed at myself for staying up so late. I had an early lecture tomorrow and I couldn’t miss it again. With a sigh, I got up to go to the bathroom.

The moment I opened the door and stepped out into the dark hallway, I saw him. Chris was out there again, standing at the end of the hallway, in the dark, staring at me. He was still, not moving a muscle, almost as if he was frozen.

In the dim light that came from my room, I saw his eyes resting on me. His head was tilted to the side, almost at a ninety-degree angle. The entire way he carried himself was wrong. It looked as if he had too many bones in his body, too many joints in his limbs. He was leaning forward into my direction as if lying in wait for me. Or, I thought, preying on me.

“Stop that shit, man,” I called out to him but nothing happened.

“Okay man, what the hell’s your problem?”

Again I got no reply, no reaction at all, but he kept watching me. I’d barely taken a few steps into his direction when his head jerked around to the other side. His mouth opened wide, but for a moment there was no sound. A few seconds later, when he started speaking, I heard a voice, but it wasn’t his voice. It was an entirely different voice that came from his mouth.

“Hey, come closer,” he said in this strange voice.

He broke up for a moment before he continued the sentence in his usual, monotonous voice.

“There’s something I want to show you.”

This was enough to freak me out. In an instant, I was back inside my room and had locked the door. What the hell had happened? What the hell was with that voice?

It was completely different! I could tell for a fact that this hadn’t been Chris imitating someone to fuck with me. No, it had been a high-pitched female voice that was nothing like his!

I expected him to bang against my door, to call out after me, but nothing happened. Everything was quiet. After a long minute had passed, I snuck to the keyhole to check if he was standing outside, but I saw nothing.

I told myself to go to bed, to ignore it all, but I was too confused, too freaked out to even think about sleeping.

My friends had already gone offline, so I went to YouTube for a moment before I checked my emails. God knows it had been weeks since I’d looked at my mailbox. There had been some talk about a new schedule for one of my lectures, so I might as well get this out of the way.

Most of my folder was filled with spam. I deleted email after email before I stumbled upon one by the student-union. It had been sent to me a couple of days ago.

It was a long-winded email that talked about changes to the dorms and the repurposing of some of the old buildings, including mine. In the course of this procedure, they would move some students to different accommodations. I was one of them and in the months to come, I was supposed to move into a different dorm since I was living here all by myself.

I looked up when I read this. What the hell were they talking about? I wasn’t living alone, Chris was right here.

When I thought about it though, his weird behavior. Was it because he was staying here without permission and tried to keep a low profile? Even though it had nothing to do with me if he’d gotten into trouble.

Still, what about his weird behavior? What about that voice? No, something didn’t add up, not at all.

And that’s when I got an idea. With shivering hands, I reached out for my phone.

It was nothing but a random thought and I prayed I was nothing but a paranoid idiot.

I dialed Chris’s number and was expecting to hear a phone ring from the other end of the apartment or even hear him answer out in the hallway.

It rang and rang before someone finally answered. It was Chris, but because of some loud music playing in the background, I didn’t understand a word he was saying. After a while, the music got quieter and I could make out what he was saying.

“Sorry man, it’s pretty loud here. So what’s up? Let me guess, you only just read my email, right?”

“What the hell are you talking about? Why are you-?”

“The email about me transferring to the Humboldt University of Berlin.”

I froze.

“What are you talking about? Stop fucking with me!” I yelled at the phone.

“You missing me that much already?” he said laughing. “Can’t handle living alone in the old place?”

“Stop fucking around man, this is not fucking funny! Tell me right now this is all some stupid joke and you’re out there, in the hallway!”

Chris stopped laughing.

“Hey man, what’s going on over there?” he asked, sounding concerned by now.

It was right at this moment that I heard his voice again. This time it wasn’t coming from the phone in my hand though, but from the hallway outside.

“Something’s wrong. Come out and help me,” the voice called out to me.

In sheer shock, my phone slipped from my hands and crashed down to the floor, hard. It was an old piece of shit and as luck wanted it, this was one too many times. I cursed at myself for being too cheap to get a new one for so long.

The voice outside though didn’t care and continued talking.

“Come out, see what’s wrong.”

By now the tone of the voice had changed. It’s gotten louder, angrier and whoever’s out there is now right in front of my door.

I don’t know what to do. The damned apartment is on the seventh floor and there’s no other way out. Oh, god, I can hear him scratching over the door outside.

“Come out,” it yelled, once more in a wholly unfamiliar voice.

Oh god, what the hell’s that thing out there and what have I been living with for those past weeks?

What’s the most terrifying thing that ever happened to you?

For the longest time, I thought I’d seen almost anything and there weren’t a lot of things that would still scare me. Oh, how wrong I was.

I’d laugh about the entire thing, at how ridiculous it was, if it hadn’t been so terrifying.

Now let’s get something out of the way. I’m not exactly a productive member of society. No, I’m a thief or a burglar to be more precise.

I do most of my jobs with another guy, Frank. We’ve been partners for almost a year. The guy’s a junky and a total nutjob. Usually, I’d never work with someone as unhinged as him, but Frank’s somehow able to find the juiciest targets.

A couple of weeks ago he told me he’d found a new target. It was an old, remote mansion in the middle of nowhere.

“Used to belong to one of those rich, noble families back in the day. By now there’s only an old woman living there. Heard she’s filthy rich, never married, and lives all on her own.”

“How the hell are you able to find out these things?”

Frank gave me a wink and showed me a toothy grin.

“Well, secret of the trade. Now listen, this one might be our juiciest target, yet. I’m not talking about cash, of course. From what I learned, the place is filled with pricy artwork, jewelry, and many other things those rich folks collect.”

What can I say, I was always pressed on money, so I was in.

We had to travel half the country, but Frank assured me it was worth it.

We went by the usual protocol:

First, we put up camp nearby at a location where no one would find us. Then we’d keep the place under surveillance for a couple of days to learn as much as possible. Who goes in, who goes out, when and where, and how tight security is. Information is king in this profession.

We spent half a week spying on the place, but we saw no one entering or leaving. The only thing that proved that anyone was living there was one lonely light on the second floor. Each evening, as soon as the sun had set, it went on. Almost like clockwork.

What I’d been most worried about was security. The rich folks knew that there were people like us out there, so many of them went to some lengths to protect themselves. I’d expected this mansion to be no different.

As it turned out though, my worries were unfounded. Our surveillance revealed that there was no security at all.

The entire place was ripe for the taking.

We made our break on a Thursday evening. Things always went better on weekdays.

We snuck up to the backside of the place in the night’s cover and hurried to one of the enormous windows.

Breaking in was child’s play. The windows were so old it took only a minute before it swung wide open.

We’d known that the place was huge, but we were still stunned by the giant, lavish hallway we entered.

The floor was made of rich wood paneling while the ceiling was decorated with similar rich inlays. As I let my eyes wander around, I noticed the paintings that covered the walls.

I stepped up to one of them and had a closer look. It was a relatively simple painting of a young girl. Upon closer inspection, I could tell that it wouldn’t be worth a thing.

As Frank and I continued I had a look at some of the other paintings. They were all the same, all depicting young girls.

We checked some rooms as we passed them, but they were all sparely furnished. What I noticed though was that they too were decorated by similar paintings. From what I’d seen so far, there had to be dozens, if not hundreds of them.

Before long we gave up on the rooms and decided to make our way straight to the second floor. That’s where the old woman had to be.

Most of the time the best way to find out where people kept their valuables was to ask them nicely. The second best way was to ask them not so nicely. Searching the entire place on your own was a very distant third.

It wasn’t long before we found a humongous staircase that led us to the second floor. As we stared upward, we could see the slight glimmer of light that escaped from under the door.

I couldn’t help but smile. Gotcha, I thought.

When I pushed open the heavy door, we set foot into a study. Old, heavy bookshelves lined the walls. The old woman was sitting in a cozy armchair in front of a fireplace at the back of the room. She didn’t even seem to notice us when we entered.

As we stepped closer, I heard her reading out loud from a book in her hands. At first, I thought a child was sitting in her lap, but after a moment I realized that it was a doll. More specifically, the doll of a young girl with bright red hair.

For a while, I watched the curious sight from afar before I stepped closer and made my presence known.

“How about you put the book down, lady,” I said.

She didn’t seem scared or even surprised to see us.

“Well, what brings you two young gentlemen to this place at this late hour?”

For a moment I stared at her. She didn’t seem to understand what was happening and didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind.

“It’s simple. Tell us where you keep your valuables and nothing bad happens.”

When she didn’t say a thing Frank went forward and ripped the book from her hands.

“You listening, you old bitch? You better not make us wait,” he spat at her, staring right into her eyes with a sardonic grin on his face.

We’d perfected the good guy, bad guy routine, but I knew Frank had no problem hurting people. He was a tough guy and used to be a street thugh, the type who’d do anything if the money was right. I still remembered how he’d beaten some poor schmuck half to death when he didn’t tell us where his money was.

It took a few moments, but finally, the old lady seemed to understand what was going on. She was mumbling to herself while she stared at Frank and then at me.

Frank pushed his face closer to hers and put his huge hands on the armrests to either side of her.

“Now then, how about you spill the fucking beans?”

Her eyes rested on Frank.

“Cash, jewelry, anything else. Where do you keep it? I’d rather not have to ask again,” I said in as friendly a voice as I could muster.

“In the bedroom, at the end of the hallway,” she pressed out and pointed to a door with one of her thin arms.

“Please take good care of our host,” I said to Frank who nodded and clenched and unclenched his hands in front of her.

“Well then, I’ll have a look and see if you told me the truth, mam. I hope you did. None of us wants things to get ugly, right?”

As I said this, I made my way towards the door she’d pointed at, one step at a time.

This was usually when people broke. It doesn’t help to have someone like Frank standing in front of you. The old lady kept quiet, though. I was torn between admiration for keeping it together so well and believing she’d told me the truth right away.

The hallway was longer than I’d expected. There were a few rooms to either side, but I didn’t bother with them.

Her bedroom was as big as the study had been. I didn’t understand why anyone would need one that large, especially if it was almost empty. There was nothing except a wardrobe, two cupboards, and a bed in here.

I went straight for the first cupboard. What I found was nothing but useless crap. It was filled with old newspaper clippings, handwritten notebooks, and pictures. There was no hint of any jewelry in there. The second one was the same. I found a few necklaces and some earrings, but it was all cheaply made. Once you’ve been in this profession for a while you developed an eye for those things. Most fakes are easily spotted and this stuff here wasn’t even trying to be anything else.

As I moved to the wardrobe, Frank cursed loudly, and I soon heard his footsteps in the hallway. A moment later he barged into the room. His eyes were wide and all the color had vanished from his face.

“The hell are you doing here? Why aren’t you watching the old bitch?”

“Jesus fuck man, the freaking thing talked to me out of nowhere!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The freaking doll, man! The one on her lap!”

“All right man, what the hell’s the matter with you? You never heard about talking dolls? They’ve got some sort of-“

“No,” he started, shaking his head vehemently, “this shit was different! Didn’t sound like no recorded voice! And then the thing fucking booked it! Ran straight out of the room!”

He looked straight at me and I could tell how terrified he was.

“Something’s wrong with this place, I tell you,” he went on.

I stared at him and wondered how high he was to come up with something like a freaking haunted doll.

“Frank what are you-?” I asked as he took out a small plastic bag with a variety of pills in it.

“Shut the hell up. Shit gives me the creeps, got to calm down somehow.”

I turned away and made my way back to the study only to find the armchair empty.

“Shit! The fucking bitch’s gone. Why the hell did you have to leave her alone? Jesus, man,” I yelled back at him, but I got no answer.

This wasn’t good at all. I could already imagine her on the phone with the cops. Shit, we hadn’t even found any valuables yet.

I rushed from the study and towards the stairs, but there was no hint of her anywhere. Bitch’s freaking fast, I thought.

At this moment Frank appeared next to me.

“So you finally,” I started but broke off when I saw his face. This wasn’t good. He was out of it.

As I said, Frank was a nutjob. Most of the time he was fine, but on drugs, there was no saying what he’d do. Dammit, this would get ugly.

When he started down the stairs, I followed him without another word.

Now, where the hell did she run off to? We checked the rooms to our left and right but found all of them to be empty.

We’d just checked another room when I heard someone mumbling from down the hallway. It sounded like someone was mumbling to themselves. It had to be the damned old bitch.

As soon as Frank heard it, his steps became faster, and I heard him cursing to himself.

Suddenly, Frank stopped in his tracks. At first, I didn’t see why he’d stopped, but then I saw it. It was the little doll who’d been sitting on the old woman’s lap before. It sat there, leaning against the wall, its head tilted into our direction.

“That’s the damn thing,” Frank cursed and stayed well clear of it as he continued.

I had taken only a few steps when I heard a childlike voice from behind me.

“Why are you ignoring me, mister robber?”

I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I turned around. There was no one here except Frank, me and that damned doll, right? I’d half expected to find a child standing behind me, but there was only the doll. I could’ve sworn its head was different now, as if it had turned to look after me.

It’s just your imagination, I told myself, but right at this moment, the doll’s tiny mouth opened again.

“Cat got your tongue?”

With that, the thing jumped to its tiny porcelain feet. For a moment it stared at me before it giggled and ran down the hallway in front of me.

“Catch me if you can,” its voice trailed off as it vanished.

I lost my balance and stumbled against the wall. I’m not the type to get scared easily and have seen my share of terrible things; people beaten half to death, torture, and at least one murder. This right here, though, was different.

You might not believe me, but I’ve seen nothing as terrifying as this piece of porcelain, this inanimate object, getting up and running away. The worst was the fucking giggling. Frank was right, there was no way this had been a recording.

“Frank, where the fuck are you?” I called out down the hallway.

He stumbled out from a room only to rush into another one.

“The hell are you doing? Let’s get out of here!” I yelled after him.

I was scared shitless of whatever was going on and for a moment I considered running off and leaving him behind. Then, after a few moments, I cursed and went after him.

The room he’d entered was huge, far bigger than anything I’d seen so far. In the dark, you couldn’t even make out the walls.

The only thing I saw was the old lady standing right in front of us. She was still wearing the same nightgown, and I saw how skinny she was. Her arms and legs were as thin as sticks while the rest of her body was strangely bloated. For a moment I even thought I saw something move below her nightgown.

I averted my eyes in disgust only to notice the little red-haired doll peeking out from behind her.

“You’ve done very well my dear, little girl,” the old lady said, smiling at the doll before she picked her up.

The little thing in her arms giggled and hid her face behind her hands for the moment as if in embarrassment.

I was frozen, not sure what to make of the surreal sight in front of me.

Frank on the other hand was beyond all such things as worry and fear. Without so much as a second thought, he stepped forward.

“That’s it, you damn thing,” he screamed and ripped the doll from the old woman’s arms. The little voice changed from giggling to a scream as Frank raised her high above his head. A second later he brought the doll down onto the ground. Bits and pieces of porcelain flew everywhere.

“Fuck you,” Frank yelled again and again, as he stomped on the remains of the doll.

The old woman screeched, but before she could do anything, Frank hit her square in the face with all the force he could muster. There was an audible crack, and I saw her go down like a wet sack.

“Frank, let’s-“ I started but broke off when I saw the slumped down body of the old woman move again.

I gasped, waited for her to get up again, but instead, I saw a multitude of small dolls rush out from under the nightgown. Each one of them was holding a part of her, leaving nothing but the old nightgown behind.

“Now you’ve done it,” I heard one of them mimic in the old woman’s voice. They all stared at me and Frank before they giggled as the red-haired doll had.

“You will never get out of here,” they yelled at us in a cacophony of high-pitched childlike voices.

Right at that moment, the entire room started to shake. I thought it would collapse, but then the lights went on.

That’s when I saw what had caused it. The walls of the room were covered in dolls. There were too many to count; hundreds, maybe thousands of them. I watched in horror as they all sprang to life.

A moment later they rushed forward into mine and Frank’s direction.

“Frank, run!” I screamed at him, but I saw that the dolls who’d made up the old lady jumped onto him. He tore them off and threw them to the ground, but more and more of the tiny white bodies closed in on him.

“You fucking pieces of-“ he screamed, throwing them left and right but was soon buried below them.

At that moment I ran from the room and rushed down the hallway. I soon found myself at the staircase again.

“Shit,” I cursed to myself and was about to turn around, to find the window we’d entered from.

That’s when I heard it.

It was the most ridiculously terrifying sound you can imagine. The scampering of thousands of little feet and legs.

Only moments later I saw an army of white porcelain bodies rush towards me. Their bright colorful dresses and innocent, smiling faces made it so, so much worse.

The worst was the giggling. A cacophony of thousands of little voices, all giggling happily as they rushed towards me.

At that moment my instincts took over. My consciousness was pushed back, and I watched as my body functioned on autopilot. I ran. I was in the study, then in the hallway that led to the bedroom. A moment later I found myself in one of the rooms to the left. I didn’t understand where I was even going. My mind was a complete and utter blank.

What saved me from ending up like Frank was a window. As I heard the porcelain army getting closer, I threw myself through the glass without so much as a second thought.

I don’t know what would’ve happened if not for the bushes I landed in. The crash pushed all the air from my lungs and my arm was twisted below me. I screamed up in pain and for a moment everything went black. Then I fought myself up and ran from the mansion.

I have no idea how long I ran, but at one point I collapsed in exhaustion.

When I woke up, I jerked to my feet, half-expecting myself to be back at the mansion, surrounded by an army of small dolls.

Instead, I was in a meadow and the sun was already up.

I didn’t know where I was or where I should go. I scanned the area for a while before I noticed a small road.

After what seemed like an endless odyssey through the wilderness, I finally found our camp again.

As fast as I could I threw all our things into the back of the car and jumped behind the steering wheel.

Then I thought about Frank. Sure he was a nutjob, sure he acted like a psycho but he was still my partner. It didn’t make us friends, but it made us something.

What if he wasn’t dead? I couldn’t abandon him like that, could I?

I soon saw the mansion ahead of me. I stopped the car and got out one of the binoculars we’d used to keep the place under surveillance.

Everything seemed as normal as it could be. The windows were empty or covered by heavy curtains.

At first, I didn’t notice, but then I saw it. It was right at the second-floor window we’d focused on for all those days. The light wasn’t on, of course. Instead, I saw a small red-haired doll sitting on the windowsill.

There were cracks all over its face and as I stared at it I saw its tiny head move into my direction. Its eyes focused on me and then it raised one of its tiny, white arms and happily waved at me.

I started the car again, drove away, and never looked back.

Fuck this place, fuck Frank, and most important of all, fuck dolls!

I work in the mental ward of my city’s hospitals.

The first thing I can tell you is that it’s nothing like the movies depict it. It’s not filled with insane maniacs or serial killers. Most of our patients are people who are confused or have certain issues.

Sure, we had our share of crazy or dangerous people here, but those are a rare exception to the rule. Most of them get put into the mental asylum, eventually. That’s the place that most people think of when they hear about the mental ward.

A few weeks ago, we got a new patient. It’s a case of severe abuse, mental fatigue, and confusion. The kid is in his teens and probably about fifteen years old. At least, that’s what’s written in his file.

It was clear that he never went to an actual school and came from an abusive home. After a while, though, it became apparent that there was more going on.

When he described the community he grew up in, it sounded like a cult.

The biggest problem with the patient is that he’s not able to describe things very well. There seems to be an issue with his cognitive development and his vocabulary is extremely limited. Even worse, he seems to have no understanding of or experience with normal society. It’s almost as if he was living out in the wilderness for all his life.

Things became even weirder when we asked him to describe his home and the people he lived with. He looked at us when we said the world people and seem to not understand it. He said the others differed from him and regarded him as a freak.

Everything else he said made even less sense and seemed to be nothing but nonsense.

It was a week ago that one of our therapists Mrs. Conrad had an idea. Since the patient could read and write to a certain extent, she wanted him to write his story.

It was me who suggested we’d use a computer, and eventually Mrs. Conrad complied. With my help, we could slowly teach the patient how to use the keyboard and how text editing worked.

It was a whole new world for him and the first few days he enjoyed it to make letters and numbers appear on the screen.

After some more talk with Mrs. Conrad, though, he understood what he was supposed to do.

At first, he typed out what he saw at the hospital, but before long he typed out his story.

It took him days to write the entire tale and after reading it I’ve no idea what to make of it.

The longer I sit here though, the more I reread it, the more I feel that it’s not just nonsense.

I’ve transcribed the document here word by word:

Hello I was told to type out my story for the peoples here. It feels strange to sit here all day but the caretakers said it is good.

I am a male one. The caretaker told me I must be five and ten numbers. They said what the age number is but it is strange. Back where I come from we do not have that.

I lived with many others. We all were different. This word is hard but the caretaker showed me how to type it. Different. The caretakers said it is because of age. Some are smaller others are bigger because of it. I am not sure if they are right. We had mothers and fathers. Better to say male and female ones who took care of the ones that were smaller and different and needed help like me. The caretakers said it was us being young. Children they said. They say it means ofsprung. That is another word I don’t know. They tried to tell me that it is the ones born from others.

I am bad. I am one that does not belong. I am a freak they said. I was not thrown out but I was also not treated like the others. I had a box I slept in. The others slept inside. When it was food I only got what the others left or not wanted. The caretakers say it is terrible and were sad but it is normal for me. I am a freak and freaks live like that and so I never ask about it. The hits the beating the pain it was normal. I often hurt and was hungry but that was right and normal to me.

I was at my home very long and learned speaking and reading like the others. We had a place to learn from the olders. I was happy that a freak like me could learn. I liked learning. My brain was real good not like my body. I was told that a freak can not have a good brain and was beaten. It was normal like that.

I know I was bad and my body was wrong and different. The others looked not like me. My head and body is weird and my arms and legs are wrong. I do not know why. I got older and learned more and often thinked why I was different. I wanted to know why I was the only freak. I got hit hard and said to be happy to be alive. I never asked again but wanted to know still. When it is night I walked. It hurt because my body was weak and weird. The others could do better. I still did. At night they slept and I was alone. I liked that. The walking was nice and being alone was nice and no beating was nice. I was happy. But my body is fragile and small and weird and white. Not like theirs.

One night I walked to far. I have a good brain and I can think but sometimes I can not think like the others. I can not feel the way and the time like they do. So I walked more away than usual. I forgot time because I was thinking. I wondered about other freaks. They said freaks always were treated like me. My brain is good so I know there were other freaks before me. So I dreamt about more freaks and walked on. I was slow not like the others but I still walked. I tried to get back when it got light but my body is stupid and brain smart but different. I got lost and not home.

I was alone for a long time. It went dark and light many times. I got scared. I was not beaten but I still missed the others. I can not hunt and eat on my own. My body is dumb my jaw and teeth are weird. I tried to eat like the others do and get animals but they get away always. I am not like them.

I was alone and cried. More than before. I walked on but I was hungry and weak. The during light I found a way. The caretaker named it street. I was surprised but I had learned about it. I was scared since the others said it was dangerous. I walked on it and it felt weird not normal. I was scared by fast animals often so I hid when they were running by. I had to sleep at one point because I was tired and weak.

That is when the thing happened. I am so happy. I can not type the words but I am more happy than happy. Happy was when I got to eat and was not beaten but this was different.

I saw others. Not the others from home but other freaks. They rode the fast animals. It was weird and I laughed that they rode inside. Oh I got told it was no animal by the caretakers. It is a car. A machine like the computer I am writing on. I forgot for a moment because there is so much to learn. Learning is fun. I was really happy when I saw the other freaks but also very sleepy.

I slept for a long time and when I woke I was at a different place. Not a cave or hut but a special one. A spital I think it is. I am still here. It is the caretakers home. There are so many here. I am so happy because this is a freak place. I think all the freaks in the world are here. It is so weird. The caretakers are freaks too only they are different. They are completely white and they have things around their body that others do not. Maybe they are not freaks like me but they look it.

The caretaker was here for a long time. We talk a lot. I like that but my head hurts from learning. I am sleepy but they said freak is wrong. I do not know what they mean. They wrote down a word for me. I do not know it. I never heard it but they say it is normal.

The word is human.