This whole operation is… boring.
Yeah, you heard that right. Boring.
For all the mystery, for all the tension in Donnelly's office, for all the vanishing residents and creepy dolls, today has been nothing but dead air.
I've been lying on this lumpy mattress for what feels like an eternity, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. I've ordered takeout twice just to give myself something to do. The food wasn't great, but the delivery girl smiled at me like I wasn't just an idiot playing house, so that was something.
I've played video games. Finished one. Started another. Died three times in five minutes and rage-quit.
I went shopping. Bought some new clothes, a lamp, and a weird-looking cactus I didn't need, just to fill space. I even bought dish soap, why? I don't know. I haven't even used a dish yet.
I came back. Cleaned the apartment. Twice.
Vacuumed the corners. Wiped down the already clean counter. Rearranged the books on the shelf in order of how depressing the titles sounded.
And still…
The sun hasn't even gone down yet.
I glance at the burner phone sitting on the nightstand. No calls. No messages. Nothing.
Just silence.
I've got a cover identity. A name that isn't mine. A past that doesn't exist. A shiny new apartment that smells like someone else used to live here and never left.
And a bank card loaded with enough government money to last me at least three years.
So no job.
No responsibilities.
No clue what the hell I'm supposed to be doing.
Am I just supposed to sit here and… wait? For what? For someone to disappear next door? For another doll to show up at my door? For the ceiling number to go up again?
I roll over onto my side, staring at the dim light slipping in through the blinds, thinking how much more of this can I take before I go nuts?
…
That thought barely finishes when I hear something outside.
Muttering. Faint, but definitely human, right outside my door.
Then: a knock. Then another. Slow, deliberate.
I sit up.
And then I hear it, sobbing.
What the hell?
My instincts kick in before my brain catches up. I jump over the couch and swing the door open in under three seconds, adrenaline sharpening every nerve.
What greets me isn't a threat, but still manages to knock the wind out of me.
Her eyes. That's the first thing I see. Light blue, so vivid they almost glow in the dull hallway lighting.
She's… stunning. No, that doesn't even cut it. She's the kind of beautiful that catches you off guard, the kind that makes your thoughts stall out mid-sentence. Maybe it's the freckles dusted across her nose, or the way her dark, straight hair frames features that are too soft for a place this quiet and strange.
She looks just as surprised as I am. Behind her stands a little girl, crying, red-faced, and hiccupping through the last of her sobs. She's a miniature version of the woman in front of me. Same hair, same eyes. Probably around five.
I take it all in within seconds: young woman, open door behind her, kid clinging to her side. Single mother, most likely. That means she's my next-door neighbor.
And then she snaps.
"Sir!" she says, voice firm, like she's trying to get the attention of a startled deer.
"Yeah, sorry, I was… uh… staring," I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. "Didn't mean to. What can I help you with?"
She exhales, brushing her hair behind one ear. "I'm Maya. I live next door. And this little devil right here is Mia." She gestures to the girl, who sniffles and hides behind her leg.
"She keeps losing her toys, I swear, it's the third time this week. I don't know what to do with her. She—"
"So what can I help you with?" I interrupt gently, hoping to steer the conversation back.
Maya blinks, then smiles faintly. "Right. Have you seen an ugly little doll?"
The girl's eyes widen as she gasps. "Hey! She's not ugly, she's a pirate!"
I stifle a grin, nodding solemnly like I've just been reprimanded by royalty.
"A pirate, huh?" I say. "I think I might've seen your crewmate earlier."
"A pirate, huh?" I say. "I think I might've seen your crewmate earlier."
Mia's tear-streaked face lights up with a gasp. "Where?!"
I step back into my apartment, grab the doll from where I'd dropped it on the counter, and hold it up like I'm presenting treasure. She's definitely seen better days: one eye missing, and a permanent scowl stitched onto her cloth face.
"Is this her?" I ask.
Mia squeals and snatches the doll from my hands like it's a priceless artifact. "You found her! You saved her!"
"I guess that makes me part of the crew now," I say, crouching to her level.
She nods solemnly. "You can be First Mate."
"I always wanted to be a first mate."
Maya laughs. It's a soft, surprised sound, like she wasn't expecting to laugh tonight. Her eyes meet mine again, warmer now. Less guarded.
"I'm really sorry she bothered you," she says, gently nudging Mia toward her. "We were retracing our steps. I figured she dropped it somewhere near your door, but I didn't expect, well, you know."
"No bother," I say. "Honestly, it's the most exciting thing that's happened to me all day."
"Rough day?" she asks.
"More like an uneventful one."
She hesitates for a beat, then holds out her hand. "Well, I appreciate it."
I take her hand, firm but quick. "Anytime."
"I'm Maya, by the way." She says, looking down.
"I know, you already told me." I say with a chuckle, followed by a dumb smile. She looks red. "I'm Noah, it's nice to meet you."
Mia tugs at her mom's sleeve. "Can I say thank you pirate-style?"
Maya raises an eyebrow. "What's pirate-style?"
Mia clears her throat dramatically, then belts out: "THANK YE, CAPTAIN!"
Then she salutes. It's serious. Like I've just been knighted.
I salute back. "Fair winds, little one."
They turn to leave, and Maya pauses halfway to her door. "If she ever does something to bother you again… just knock. I owe you one."
I nod. "I'll remember that."
She disappears into her apartment, and the door shuts with a quiet click.
The hallway's silent again. And I decide to go back inside too.
The moment I close the door behind me, the stillness settles in once more.
I lock the door, drop the deadbolt out of habit, and toss the keys on the counter. The doll's absence leaves a weirdly noticeable space, like even its brief presence had shifted the atmosphere. I glance around my apartment. It's clean. Too clean. Like a showroom pretending to be a life.
I didn't expect to meet anyone here, much less someone… normal. Someone who smiled at me. Who didn't look like they were hiding a secret behind their eyes. That little kid too, Mia.
But that's a problem.
Because if anything's going to go wrong in this building, they're the ones who'll be in the blast radius.
Fuck…