Chapter 2I Spent the Night in a "Haunted Mansion," and Woke Up to This Comment: "Run, Get Out Now!"

I froze. Run?

A chill crept up from the soles of my feet.

“What do you mean, run? What’s going on?”

Panic crept into my voice as I stared at the screen. My reflection in the lens looked twisted and tense, but I didn’t care. My hands flew across the screen, scrolling through the flood of comments, trying to pick out any useful information.

Finally, a few comments from twenty minutes ago caught my eye:

“Miss, the wardrobe door opened! Wake up!”

“Holy crap, why is there a doll in there?!”

The wardrobe?

I whipped my head around to look at it.

It stood there silently, completely closed. Not a single sign that it had been opened.

I forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “You must’ve been imagining things.”

“Get out of there now!”

“Why are you just standing there? RUN!”

The comments became more frantic, angry even, as if they couldn’t believe I wasn’t reacting.

Someone even sent me a big tip, writing: “Run, and I’ll send you more!”

My feet felt like they were encased in cement. I couldn’t move. Was it because I didn’t want to leave? No. If I left now, I’d break the contract. How would I pay for my dad’s treatment then?

No. I couldn’t leave.

That’s when I noticed my phone battery was almost dead. I quickly grabbed my charger.

“Sorry, everyone, my phone’s dying—wait, what the hell? The power just went out!”

The comment section exploded into chaos. But I just frowned at the charger in my hand, hesitated for a moment, and shook my head. I couldn’t leave.

What do I do now? No electricity, no way to charge my phone.

My battery was at 1%. Just as the screen went dark, I saw one last comment that sent a jolt down my spine:

“Miss, behind you!”

As soon as the phone shut off, I heard it—a faint creak behind me.

My body froze. Slowly, I turned my head.

The wardrobe door was open.

Inside, there was a doll.

It wore a brightly colored dress, its glassy black eyes staring out into the room.

I don’t know how long I stood there, paralyzed. Then, out of nowhere, I laughed.

What am I freaking out about? What’s the big deal? It’s just a doll. It’s not like it’s alive.

I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince myself or someone else.

I walked over to the wardrobe, grabbed the doors, and slammed them shut.

But just as I did, I felt a shiver run down my spine.

For a split second, as the doors closed, I could’ve sworn the doll’s glass eyes were watching me.

The power outage was making everything worse.

I glanced at the landline phone by the bed. The man who hired me had specifically warned me:

“Don’t use the landline unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the receiver. Then I picked it up and dialed the service line for the gated community.

Beep.

The line didn’t connect. All I got was a loud, piercing tone. But beneath it, I thought I heard something—something faint, like nails scratching against a wall.

A wave of cold washed over me, and a splitting headache flared up behind my eyes.

I instinctively touched my left ear, then slowly put the receiver back down.

No one was coming to help.

I couldn’t leave the property, but I had to figure something out myself.

Pushing myself up, I started searching for the electrical box.

I made my way down the staircase to the first floor. But when I reached the box, I found nothing wrong. The breakers were fine—the outage wasn’t caused by anything here.

I was about to close the panel when something caught my eye.

Taped to the top of the box was a small piece of paper.

Without thinking, I pulled it down and unfolded it.

My hands froze.

On the paper, written in elegant handwriting, were the words:

“The power’s out, isn’t it? Go upstairs and find the doll!”

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