Page 20 of Don’t Watch Alone

Chapter seventeen

Eva

The cold is harsh tonight, but the gust that blows from the cracked gate of Kay-Bee Toy Store sinks its teeth deeper, a sharper chill that cuts straight through my jacket and straight into my bones.

Tony’s still missing. I am hoping he is in here since the gate is not all the way closed.

But the asshole’s nowhere in sight, and that damn gate—usually locked and bolted by now—stands open just enough to look like it’s inviting me to come in.

“Tony?” I call out.

I have a bad feeling I should turn back, but I don’t. Maybe he went inside. With a muttered curse, I duck under the dangling chain, push the gate open, and step into the dark.

It closes behind me with a quiet, iron moan—just an inch, maybe two—but enough to make the air inside shift.

It becomes dense. Not just old with plastic dolls and dusty shelves, but something heavy.

I’ve been here many times, but I’ve never realized how unsettling it is with no lights, noise, or signs of life.

The shelves stand high and rugged, making claw-like shadows, and the cheerful clutter of toys transforms into something else entirely—shapes that watch and wait but don’t blink.

My footsteps echo, each one an explosive blast across the linoleum, as I slip past a display stand and into the Barbie aisle.

Hundreds of eyes stare back at me—glass, plastic, perfect—and every dang doll has the same creepy smile, like they know something that I don’t.

The accessories shine in the low light like pieces of teeth, and I swear if one of them moves, I’m gonna lose my crap right here on the floor.

But it gets worse when I hit the doll aisle.

Not the plastic kind—the old ones, the real creepy glass dolls.

The ones with porcelain faces cracked just enough to look like they’ve been screaming.

Those empty button eyes on cloth dolls seem to see things I can’t, especially in the dark.

Some look like they’re talking, as if caught mid-whisper, and I swear… swear… one just moved its dang head.

Then comes the sound.

A scrape. A soft drag. It is distant, but it definitely is real.

My heart pounds once, hard, and I stop cold in my tracks.

“Tony?” The name escapes my lips in a near-silent whisper; I’m not sure I want an answer from whatever it is.

But thank goodness there is no response.

Just that awful silence, thick and pulsing around me like another skin.

I wait. I listen. But all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears.

I move again, carefully, creeping like a freaking burglar, brushing past a shelf of board games, heading toward what I hope is the emergency exit in the back.

The next aisle is worse somehow—bright toys meant to laugh and speak and play, now frozen in some kind of cheerless waiting room.

‘See ‘n Say’ toys stacked like bricks on the shelf.

MOOOOOOOO.

Jesus freaking Christ.

The voice shatters the silence like an explosion—“The cow says mooooo!“—and I dang near jump out of my own body. I nearly scream, but my throat tightens and I hold it back. For a second, my whole body is nothing but panic, my heart is pacing so fast like it’s trying to break its way out of my chest. Then my brain catches up and realizes it’s just some stupid dang toy, and I sag against the shelf, letting out a little laugh.

I’m still trying to catch my breath, still feeling like an idiot, when my walkie suddenly crackles to life at full volume.

“Eva, how is the toy store looking? Over.”

Blaiz’s voice cuts through the air and nearly makes me jump out of my own body for the second time in less than two minutes. I fumble for the walkie, but my fingers are stupid and slick, and the dang thing hits the floor with a clatter.

I crouch down, and reach for it…

And something tight and sharp slips around my neck.

Whatever it is, it’s instant and brutal.

My breath stutters, the panic hits me like a brick wall, and I claw at my throat, fingers scrambling against something thin but strong—crap, what is that, a wire?

A string?—digging in, sawing deeper with every twitch.

The walkie’s still chattering on the floor, Blaiz calling my name, but it sounds miles away.

I can’t answer. Can’t speak. Can’t even freaking breathe.

My hands yank and pull, but it’s useless. The thing’s too tight. It burns. My lungs scream, and stars explode at the edges of my vision. I think I’m choking, dying, passing out, but then it gets worse.

There is someone's breath on my skin, it's so hot and close. Right by my freaking ear.

“You should’ve stayed home,” the voice whispers. “But now… you’re gonna die.”

I want to scream, to thrash, to do anything—but all I can do is shake. The pressure tightens again, a final pull, and then I feel it—feel it—that sick, awful snap as something gives way. A sudden warm slickness spills across my chest. Blood. So much blood.

The world lurches sideways. It tilts and fades.

And then everything fades into black.