I don't know how much time had passed…
Was it a minute? Two? Maybe more?
Or had time itself decided to freeze, mocking our anxiety, stretching this torment mercilessly?
All I knew was that my body had begun to betray me.
My eyes grew heavy, my lids fighting to close against my will.
Drowsiness crept in like a silent enemy, exhaustion seeped into my muscles as though I had been running for days without rest.
But I resisted.
Yes—resisted.
How could I not, knowing that even the slightest lapse, the smallest movement… would mean defeat?
Would mean the end of this game… with an ending I dared not imagine.
I began counting inside my head, a desperate attempt to control myself, the time, everything.
One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine—
Suddenly—
"TRRRRRRRRRNNNN!"
The sound rang through the room like a thunderclap.
It was a familiar sound… the doll's voice.
My heart froze.
Had… had the game ended?
Did that mean we had survived?
Had we truly crossed the danger?
My breath trembled, bracing for her words, until that childish, sing-song voice came, tinged with mockery:
"Heeheehee... the game is over."
Then, more clearly, with less distortion:
"You may move and speak now."
For several seconds, I couldn't believe what I'd heard.
Was I dreaming?
Had this nightmare really ended?
Were we… free?
I rose slowly, hesitantly, like someone testing the ground beneath their feet for the first time.
My limbs felt heavy, foreign, as though they didn't belong to me.
I lifted my arms, moved them… yes. I could move.
Finally.
I exhaled sharply, as if breaking free from the prison of silence and stillness.
Ah, how lethal those minutes had been.
I had sat still for so long, and now every part of me screamed with exhaustion.
Stretching my back, I heard faint cracks between my ribs.
I hadn't realized how comforting a simple stretch could be.
I glanced at Cairo—he was doing the same.
His face was pale, but like me, he breathed in relief.
We were free… at last.
I looked into the darkness, still unable to pinpoint the doll's exact location, but certain she was watching us.
Always watching.
After a moment's hesitation, I asked in a low, cautious voice:
"Um… excuse me, but… does this mean we won?"
The reply did not come immediately.
Seconds passed like eternities before her voice broke through:
"Yes, you won... and I lost."
A warm current rushed through my veins.
Her words weren't just an announcement; they were confirmation that what we had endured wasn't some temporary illusion.
We had truly won.
No, it wasn't my weary mind imagining things.
Not wishful thinking deceiving me.
We had really, actually won.
And in that moment, the air felt lighter, the darkness less terrifying than it had been minutes ago.
Yet despite the relief, a small voice in my head whispered:
Is this truly it? Has the game really ended… or is there another round? What comes after "winning"?
But I didn't answer that voice.
All I wanted was to savor the silence.
The moment of survival.
Even if only for a few seconds.
---
We were just beginning to absorb the reality of it all… we had won.
The doll herself confirmed it.
We panted from exhaustion, stretching and breathing like men just freed from a narrow grave.
But… as it turned out, the ending wasn't exactly what we expected.
Amid our fleeting calm, her voice echoed again—childish, monotone, yet now carrying something indescribable behind it:
"Well... it is true that I lost, but the game was fun. I really enjoyed it."
Those simple words, delivered with a false innocence, sent chills crawling across my skin once more.
I looked into the darkness, trying in vain to find her.
Fun?
What was fun about a game of silence?
Did she enjoy watching our trembling faces, our rigid bodies, our suffocated breaths?
Was fear… her entertainment?
How strange this doll was.
Her voice continued, sounding as though she were smiling:
"I wish I could play with you longer... but I must go now, I have to leave this place."
Confusion welled up inside me.
What did she mean by that?
She was here in this warehouse, wasn't she?
And the warehouse belonged to Noble Valis.
It was only natural to think she was one of his possessions.
I asked, with hesitant unease:
"M-Miss… what do you mean?
Aren't you the property of Noble Valis, since you're in his warehouse?"
Her reply came suddenly—her tone shifting so drastically it sent a shiver crawling from my neck down my spine:
"Me?!!"
She paused, then spoke slowly, in a far more chilling voice, as though whispering from the very depths of the dark:
"I do not belong to anyone."
My breath locked in my chest.
She continued:
"It is true he bought me... but that does not mean I became his. Or his niece's."
Her voice now was nothing like before.
It was no longer simply a doll speaking.
It was something hiding behind the words—something not human, something unplaceable.
Silence reigned.
Even Cairo, who had begun to move again, stopped as though something unseen had chained him to the spot.
Then, in a tone dripping with playful malice, she added:
"Anyway… I'll go now. It was fun playing with you. Next time… I'll be the one who wins. Heeheeheehee…"
And then, we heard it—
the sound of a window creaking open.
Cairo turned his head, and I followed his gaze.
Moonlight slipped inside, faint and pale… but enough.
Enough to reveal her.
The doll stood at the edge of the window—small, uncanny, her hair stirring in the night wind.
Then, a sudden gust rushed through the open frame.
Air blasted into the room, dust stung our eyes.
I shut mine tight for three seconds.
Only three.
But when I opened them again—
She was gone.
The window remained open, the night breeze still whispering through…
but there was no trace of her.
As if she had never been there.
As if all of it had been nothing but a heavy, terrifying dream.
I looked at Cairo—he stared silently at the window.
Neither of us spoke.
We both knew, without saying it:
What we had seen tonight was not an ending.
It was the beginning of something greater.
Something stranger.
Something darker.
---
We froze in place for several seconds after the doll's disappearance, as though waiting for one last terror to complete the night.
But nothing happened.
The window stayed open, moonlight spilling in, the cold wind brushing our hair and clothes.
The air smelled of dust, the darkness swallowing the corners of the room like gaping mouths into the unknown.
I took a deep breath… then moved slowly.
I glanced at the door, then at Cairo.
First, I went to the window and closed it quietly, my heartbeat still pounding in my ears.
Then I crossed the dark room toward Cairo, who stood like a statue of fear.
He stood there silently, his eyes stunned, as if his soul hadn't fully recovered from its terror.
I stood in front of him and asked in a low, cautious voice:
"Cairo... are you okay?"
He didn't answer immediately, but slowly turned his face to me
His face was stiff, his arms rigid—but at last, his voice emerged:
"Y… yeah. I'm fine."
But I knew he wasn't.
His voice betrayed him.
So did the sweat beading on his forehead, and his drifting eyes searching for meaning in the meaningless.
Then he added, trying to sound steady:
"I didn't expect… that what you said would be true."
I blinked, confused, until he explained, like confessing belated regret:
"When you came to me… and said there was a moving doll… I didn't believe you.
In fact, I mocked you."
He paused, ashamed, then continued:
"But it turns out… you were right."
After a brief silence, he said:
"I'm sorry… for not believing you from the start."
I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a faint smile.
"No, no… you don't need to apologize, Cairo.
Anyone in your place wouldn't have believed it easily.
Even I—if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes—I wouldn't have believed it."
I lowered my gaze briefly, then added:
"Come on. Let's finish our shift… and tell the others what happened to us. In the morning."
But Cairo furrowed his brows, his tone uneasy:
"What are you saying? Do you really think they'll believe us?"
I looked at him in surprise.
"Yes… why not?"
He answered as though reminding me of something obvious:
"It's impossible they'll believe us."
My surprise deepened.
"But we saw what the doll did! As guards, it's our duty to report any strange occurrences here. That's our job, isn't it?"
Cairo sighed faintly.
"But… what if they think we're lying? What if they say we're making up stories for attention?"
I shook my head and answered calmly:
"That doesn't matter. We know the truth.
And what the doll did isn't something we can ignore.
If they don't believe us, so be it… but at least we'll have done our duty."
Cairo sighed again, then said with resignation:
"Fine, fine… we'll tell them in the morning.
Let's just leave now."
He moved cautiously toward the door, reached for the handle—
and without resistance, it opened.
I stared in astonishment, remembering our earlier struggles when we were trapped with the doll.
Every time we had tried before, it was as if something invisible kept the door sealed tight.
But now, with her gone… it opened effortlessly.
How strange…
I followed Cairo, and together we stepped into the corridor, itself dim and shadowy.
But the air there felt different… lighter. Less oppressive.
Before closing the door, I hesitated a moment, glancing back at the window.
Moonlight streamed faintly through, the curtains shifting gently.
There was no doll.
Nothing at all.
Just emptiness.
She had truly left.
And to myself, as though sealing a bitter moment, I whispered:
We… we survived.
We survived the game of death… in silence.