The dream began softly, the way most of Linda's dreams did lately. A child's laugh, faint but sweet, echoed down a hallway she didn't recognize. She followed it, hand pressed over the curve of her belly, her bare feet whispering over cold wood floors. The laugh grew sharper the further she walked, echo splitting into two voices, then three, until it became something jagged, high-pitched, wrong.
The hallway stretched longer than it should. Shadows trembled along the walls. Somewhere behind her, something was moving — fast, crawling rather than walking, porcelain scraping against wood. Linda turned, heart hammering—
She woke with a gasp.
The living room was dim, the golden afternoon gone, replaced by dusk pressing against the windows. For a moment she didn't know where she was, the dream still clinging to her skin. Then the baby shifted gently inside her, grounding her back in reality.
She licked her dry lips, throat aching for water.
In the kitchen, she filled a glass and leaned against the counter, trying to steady her breathing. It was just a dream, she told herself. Just hormones. Just nerves.
But her hand trembled. The rim of the glass slipped her fingers.
It hit the tile with a crash, water spraying across her bare feet. Shards skittered in every direction.
"Damn it…" she whispered, crouching quickly to gather the larger pieces. A sliver lodged itself into her finger. She hissed, jerking her hand back as blood welled up, bright against her pale skin.
"Linda?"
Ajax's voice was sharp, panicked. He was already through the doorway, jacket half off, dropping the bags he carried to the floor. His eyes locked on the blood.
"Baby, what happened?" He was at her side in a heartbeat, pulling her hand up gently.
"Just… just the glass. I dropped it," she said, embarrassed at her own clumsiness.
But Ajax was already guiding her to a chair, grabbing a towel and pressing it against her hand. His jaw was tight, his voice low but frantic. "You scared the hell out of me. You shouldn't be cleaning this up. Sit. I'll handle it."
Linda tried to laugh it off, though her heart softened at his fussing. "It's nothing, Ajax. Really. I've survived worse than a paper cut."
"Not while you're carrying my kid, you haven't." He kissed her temple, his thumb brushing her cheek, before carefully bandaging the finger. "There. Safe. No more glass duty for you."
The tenderness in his eyes made her chest ache. Whatever nightmare lingered from her sleep faded, replaced by the warmth of his worry.
To distract her, Ajax tugged one of the sealed bags closer. "Look what Dad and Mark sent over. Thought I'd surprise you."
He began pulling toys out, piling them onto the couch. Plush bears, rattles, blocks — cheerful little things spilling out in a rainbow heap. Linda smiled faintly at the sight, her bandaged finger forgotten for the moment.
Then her gaze caught on something wedged between a stuffed giraffe and a box of blocks.
Her smile died.
The doll's head lolled to the side, blonde hair tangled and dirty, strands knotted with brittle leaves. Its porcelain face was smudged gray, the white dress stained, stiff as if it had been damp too long. And those eyes — wide, blue, glossy — stared up at her with too much awareness.
( that is the universe's logic ..
What is meant for you always come to you , no matter how much times , how far you throw .. it'll find it's way to you )
Ajax frowned, pulling it free. "The hell? That's… weird. Looks like some old Halloween prop."
"I don't want that thing in here," Linda said immediately. Her voice was sharper than she meant it to be.
Ajax looked at her, then at the doll again. "Yeah, it's ugly. Probably slipped into the bag by accident. I'll toss it."
He crossed the room, lifted the lid of the indoor trash bin, and dropped the doll inside with a careless thunk. The lid closed with a hollow sound.
"There," he said, brushing his hands together. "Problem solved."
Linda bit her lip. "Ajax… I meant outside. Public trash. I don't even want it in the house."
Ajax grinned faintly, trying to lighten her mood. "Babe, it's porcelain and glue. Not a demon. I'll take it out tomorrow morning with the rest of the garbage. Tonight, it can rot in here."
She wanted to argue, but his easy tone and the softness in his eyes tugged her back down from her unease. Instead, she leaned against him, letting his arm wrap around her. He kissed her hair, murmuring against it: "No ugly doll's gonna bother you. I promise."
---
That night, the house was still. Ajax slept deeply beside her, his breaths steady in the quiet. Linda lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her bandaged finger throbbing faintly.
Somewhere beyond the bedroom door, a soft sound echoed. A faint rattle. Porcelain against plastic.
Her pulse quickened. She told herself it was the house settling, nothing more. But the sound came again, too deliberate, too sharp.
She slipped out of bed, padding into the hallway. Moonlight spilled through the kitchen window, pale silver across the floor.
The trash bin sat in the corner, lid no longer shut tight.
Through the narrow gap, two blue eyes glinted in the light. Wide. Unblinking. Watching.
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CREEPY VIBES FROM,
THE DOLL.