He had thrown away the doll; who would have thought that when he would return...the sofa lay overturned, its legs jutting awkwardly into the air as if it had been flung aside in rage?
Broken glass from the shattered lights crunched faintly underfoot, and the ceiling fan hung motionless, its blades stiff and lifeless.
It was a scene of complete chaos.
Baron stood frozen at the entrance, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Even he, who had tried to steel himself for this, felt fear clawing at his spine.
But what terrified him the most...was the doll. Sitting right in the center of the living room.
Perfectly still. As if waiting. As if mocking him. 'I threw you away… I got rid of you …'
Yet here it was again.
A cold shiver ran down his back. His fingers trembled slightly as he clenched his fists. 'No matter what I do… I can't escape it …'
That was when his hunt truly began.
