“I am not a pussy!” 

“Yeah?” chided Reece, hands on his hips and a disgustingly smug grin on his face, standing in front of his band of goons. “Go inside then!” 

My eye twitched as I looked over his shoulder to the property beyond. It was a derelict house, constructed of rotten wood and crumbling bricks. The front door was holding onto its one, rusty hinge for dear life, the putrid scent of rot emanating from the building like an aura of evil. Every window was destroyed, every tree on the lawn was dead, and it didn’t look like any grass had grown for decades. Reece’s buddies all chuckled at me as I stood there, staring at the building. 

“Chuck the schmuck is scared of old Nelson’s dolls!” 

“I’m not scared of his fucking dolls!” I yelled back at them, prompting a fit of laughter from them all, except for Reece. 

“Go inside then, Charles! Prove us all wrong. Unless we’re right, of course.” 

I scowled at him, flipping him the finger before marching myself through the rusted front gate to a chorus of “ooohh!” from Reece’s little gang. I swore I could feel the air grow colder the closer I got to the house. 

“Make sure you go to the basement! No cheating!” Reece shouted after me. I muttered the obscenest insults I could think of under my breath as I got to the front door, and peered inside. The hallway beyond was dark, with a faded red patterned carpet covering the ground and a large unlit chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A spiralling staircase to the second floor stood tall at the end of the hallway, and there were three doors along the walls of the hall before it split into two directions; one path leading off to the left and one to the right. A chill ran down my spine as I took a step inside, and the floorboards beneath the carpet creaked loudly. Gritting my teeth, I stepped further inside, opening each door and surveying the rooms beyond. 

One was a living room, a vacant fireplace sitting on the far wall in front of a large couch. 

Another was a dining room, with a long wooden table in the centre surrounded by ten ornate chairs. 

The final one was empty, cleaned out. I couldn’t help but wonder what it was used for, back when old Nelson still lived here. 

I closed the last door and walked to where the hallway split, looking to the right first. It was shorter than the entrance hallway, without many defining features except for a large steel door at the end, which I figured was a kitchen of some sort.  

I took a few steps towards the door before I heard footsteps behind me. Spinning around, my eyes darted all over the place. 

There was nobody here. 

Clenching my jaw hard, I walked back out to the main hallway, looking out through the front door. No sign of whatever made that noise. 

The sound of a creaking door to my right made me freeze. I slowly turned my head to find that the second branch of the hallway led to a single, much smaller door which was standing ajar, slowly creaking its way to being completely open, revealing the dark descent into the room beyond; definitely the way to the basement. 

My heart was pounding. Cold sweat formed on my brow. There was no such thing as ghosts, or demons. It must have been the wind. Or a tiny earthquake I didn’t notice. Even so, every ounce of my being screamed at me to leave, to just swallow my pride and let those assholes ridicule me on my way out. 

But I couldn’t. It would be so easy to just walk down there and walk back up. It would take like, ten seconds. 

I wiped the sweat off, collecting myself and slowly walking towards the basement door, my eyes darting all around. I let out a slow, shaky breath, and made my way down into the darkness, slipping the small flashlight I brought out of my pocket and turning it on. Dust hung in the air like static on a television screen, and the shadows of support beams danced in the light as I held it in my shaking hand. I pointed it downwards, counting around twelve steps until I reached the bottom. Every sound echoed in the emptiness, amplified tenfold in my ears. I swore I could hear chuckling in the distance as I descended, a sinister sound as light as the outside breeze, making the shivers down my spine far more frequent. 

I was so close now. 

One more step. 

I don’t know why I didn’t just turn around the instant my foot touched the basement floor. 

I raised my flashlight, peering into the darkness and freezing in place as it spotted a large cabinet with six rows of shelves. 

Sitting on each shelf was a row of dolls. Ten, to be exact. Ten of these creepy, ugly, rotting dolls, with eyes that stared directly into your soul. Except for the last row. 

There were only seven on the last row. 

That would make fifty-seven total. 

But people said old Nelson had fifty-eight dolls. 

Where was the last one? 

That was more than enough for me. I spun around, bolting up the stairs two at a time until I reached the top, where my body slammed into the door. 

I stumbled back a few steps, my eyes widening as I stared at the shut door. I tried the handle. 

Locked. 

I swallowed, my flashlight hand shaking, sweating profusely. Slowly, I turned around, and screamed. 

The face of the final doll was inches from mine, wearing a horrifying grin, its stubby arms reaching out for my face. Screaming my lungs out, I fell down, dropping the flashlight and scrambling backwards until my back was against the door. The doll came closer, and closer, and I could do nothing but cover my face, close my eyes, and hope this was just a vision, some horror conjured by my own mind. 

“I guess Chuck the schmuck is scared of old Nelson’s dolls!” 

I stopped screaming, the sound of laughter filling the void where my voice was. I looked up to see Reece’s pack of goons, all with flashlights illuminating their faces from the bottom, as if they were about to tell me a ghost story. The door behind me opened, revealing Reece himself, that stupid, smug grin still pasted on his face. I breathed a relieved sigh, laying back as my pounding heart began to slow. 

“Fuck you guys.”