Chapter Fifteen

“Let me ask you sincerely,” Lannie said as she pushed Steven aside and straightened her clothes. “What on earth is wrong with you?”

This room appeared to be the master bedroom of the house.

Apart from a double bed, it contained a storage cabinet and a writing desk. On the floor beside the cabinet sat a red toolbox. The box could be opened from the center of its front, but at the moment it was secured with a small metal padlock. Above the writing desk was the room’s only window. A heavy curtain had been yanked down and now lay haphazardly draped over the corner of the desk.

Besides that, there was another thing in the room—or rather, quite a few identical things. But Lannie, still fuming at Steven, had yet to notice them.

Steven stood with his back to Lannie, in front of the closed door. That glaring blue sphere of light still hovered between them.

On the inside of the door, at Steven’s forehead height, a thick, finger-sized nail was hammered into the wood. A hemp rope hung from it, one end knotted securely to the nail, the other tied into a noose.

“There’s something,” Steven whispered. “On—the bed.” His words were halting and fragmented.

Lannie instinctively glanced at the double bed.

In the exact center of the bed sat a cloth doll. The craftsmanship was quite fine, with rich details over its entire body. It wore red ballet slippers, and two separate pieces of white cloth had been sewn into long stockings that clung to its legs. A wide, puffy brown skirt flared out, each suspender adorned with a delicate button. Its small mouth was daintily stitched, accented with extra red thread like lipstick. The only flaw was its eyes—or rather, its lack of them. In their place were two X’s, each formed from four black stitches.

The doll sat upright, its head aligned with its body, facing directly toward the bedroom door.

The radiant blue sphere illuminated nearly every corner of the room.

Only then did Lannie notice that, all around—in the windowsill, on top of the storage cabinet, beneath the writing desk—there were many more dolls. Each was dressed as a dancer, their clothes nearly identical, though their sizes varied slightly, making them seem less like mass-produced items.

Lannie turned and looked back at Steven’s silhouette. “I can’t believe,” she murmured, “it took me this long to realize.”

The blue sphere gradually faded.

With the harsh blue light gone, Steven’s entire figure, still faintly glowing, became much more visible.

Suddenly, Steven’s head rotated a full one hundred eighty degrees to face Lannie, though the rest of his body remained motionless, still turned toward the door. At the same moment, all the dolls in the room swiveled their faces toward Lannie’s spot.

“It seems the real Steven is still lying on the floor, isn’t he?” Lannie raised a hand. Orange light flickered in her palm.

The watching Steven curled his lips into a smile, swung his arm backward, and began to shuffle toward Lannie in reverse.

“Mr. Duane,” Lannie called, “the real you must be able to hear me, right?”

Steven nodded. The movement was mechanical, unnervingly so.

“I understand that too much has happened today,” Lannie continued, “and we’re here to help you.”

“Too late.” The raspy voice came from where Steven stood.

“For certain things, perhaps it is,” Lannie replied. “It seems that long before today, something had already happened to you and your wife. The house has been left untended, all the curtains are gone. And now, there are these dolls. I can’t piece it all together, or figure out how it connects to the murder of that female student. What’s done is done; we can’t change the past. All I can do now is help you, whose existence has shifted forms. Becoming a spirit after death is an unexpected and agonizing fate. We can ease your pain.”

“By…” the raspy voice said, “killing me.”

“No,” Lannie answered. “On the contrary. If you cooperate, we won’t hurt you further. We’ll simply transfer you somewhere more fitting. Since you have your full mind and memories, we can even arrange a meeting with your wife. You remember her, don’t you? Kelly—she’s also in this house. If this continues, you might hurt her.”

“Kelly… very helpful,” the voice rasped. “And you… will be helpful too.”

“That’s right,” Lannie said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lannie noticed that something was missing from the bed.

She pressed her lips together. “Looks like I was just spouting nonsense.”

A doll suddenly leapt from the side and clung to Lannie’s orange-glowing hand. The other dolls lunged at her as well, trying to pin her down.

Lannie swung her arms to fend them off, conjuring a barrier around herself.

Several more dolls crawled out from under the bed. They sprang high, their little feet in red slippers shattering her barrier. The rest crowded in, making her movements heavy and sluggish.

The bedroom door flung inward.

Pushed by the dolls, Lannie stumbled out of the room. As she passed the doorway, the noosed end of the rope, strung over the top of the door, dangled above her head. The dolls lifted Lannie off the ground and pressed her to the door. At once, the noose slipped over her neck and tightened.

Lannie kicked frantically, her hands pinned to the door by the dolls. With great effort, she extended a finger and dragged it across the door’s surface.

A beam of orange light shot over Lannie’s head, slicing through the rope. The beam spun around, hovered in front of her, and erupted in a blinding flash.

The dolls recoiled, releasing her, and she dropped to the floor.

Lannie dove out of the bedroom, collapsing in the corridor, then quickly turned and raised both hands toward the room.

A wide barrier sprang up between her and the bedroom.

The dolls clambered up and again surged toward her, slamming themselves against the shield, dimming it bit by bit.

On the bracelet around Lannie’s wrist, a yellow percentage number plummeted rapidly, the glowing digits flickering ever faster.

Behind the dolls, Steven, his head now facing forward again, walked toward Lannie. He brushed aside the dolls in his way, stopping a step from the barrier and raising his hand.

A triangular blade of light shot straight from his hand, stabbing through one doll and piercing Lannie’s barrier.

The shield shattered instantly. The dolls swarmed Lannie, driving her toward the corridor window.

A thin shield materialized behind her, cushioning her from the glass. She flew out the window, landed hard on the balcony, and snapped the support of a sun umbrella. Shards of glass scraped her arms, leaving shallow cuts.

Glowing, Steven dashed onto the balcony, thrusting his light blade at Lannie, who was pinned by the dolls.

But at that moment, another blue blade of light, identical in shape, streaked down from above, impaling Steven. The glow that formed his body dispersed from the wound, dissolving into the pitch-black rain.

As Steven vanished, the dolls restraining Lannie lost all strength, flopping limply aside.

From the direction the second blade had come, Amelia spun in midair, reeling in her violet ribbon of light, then hurled it to the ground below her.

The ribbon quickly expanded into a sphere of light, hollowed itself just in time to catch the falling Amelia.

Before Lannie could speak to Amelia, a swirl of palm-sized leaves, swept along by an airstream, spun into a hemisphere that enveloped Amelia.

“Go! Hurry!”

A woman’s voice reached Lannie’s ears.

She looked toward the sound and saw Kelly standing in the upstairs corridor.

“Leave now!” Kelly called anxiously. “While you still have a chance.” She turned and hurried through the corridor, racing up the stairs.

“You think I don’t want to,” Lannie muttered as she struggled to her feet, shaking her head. “Honestly, then why are you running off?” Supporting herself on the window frame, she squeezed through the shattered glass and headed for the stairs leading to the third floor.