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C hapter 1

Naya

Death itself shrouds the world in a cloak of apprehension and dread as the vehicle moves under me, the sound humming through the crowded space. Yet it has never felt more captivating, not even as the night surrenders the last glimmer of daylight.

The fate of death is like a tranquil river, steadily flowing toward the unknown, carrying the burdens of souls seeking refuge in unknown realms, preserving their very essences—a beauty to behold.

That feeling of disconnection and relief is something I have long sought, but never quite achieved, despite my many attempts.

“Do you think she will be okay?” A dark, masculine voice comes from the front seat, yet it feels too far away to discern where it even is.

“She’s strong, Daxton,” another voice replies.

If I were strong, I would have ended my life back at the dollhouse, or know what freedom tastes like.

Now, it’s an unknown concept I know nothing about.

My fingertips trace my reflection in the car’s window, the surface cold beneath my touch, as I tune out their voices. I don’t care, not really. Reality seems elusive, slipping through my grasp like wisps of smoke carried away by the breeze. I tentatively study the contours of my face but find only a sense of detachment, adrift in the maze of my thoughts, unable to grasp anything around me.

Obscured by tears clinging to my lashes like dewdrops that refuse to let go, my reflection blurs. I struggle to recognize myself—my face too pallid, my hands trembling uncontrollably as I touch the window, hoping it might tether me to the present.

“All she does is sit there, staring out the window. She hasn’t spoken a word since we left hours ago.”

The world whizzes past me outside the moving vehicle—I never thought I would see the world like this again. How long was I in captivity? Prohibited from experiencing the world and reveling in the freedom that comes with it?

Too long.

“Leave her alone.”

Shakily, I pull my knees up to my chest, hugging them as if the motion itself could protect me from the horrors etching across my soul like a wound that will never heal.

Pressing my forehead against the window, I breathe deeply— I can’t fucking breathe.

Silence descends over the small, suffocating vehicle, but it does nothing against the feeling of someone watching me through the rearview mirror.

I wanted to die. Why am I alive?

“Little doll?”

I look up to the sound of Grey’s voice, eyes clashing with his in the rearview mirror. Unspoken questions linger in his eyes, questions I’m not prepared to face.

I give him a curt nod to let him know I’m present. His continued observation unnerves me, sending a ripple of unease through my veins.

“Geez, I won’t do anything,” I snap, my frustration boiling over as I notice the worry etched into his features.

The weight of his concern only adds to the burden I carry, and it all presses down on me like a heavy cloud of guilt. I avert my gaze, staring at the world outside, a blur of motion that offers no solace as I drown in an endless sea.

“See?” a voice grumbles.

“Fuck off, Daxton.”

Staring back out the window, I ignore their arguing.

Memories assault my senses, a relentless onslaught of past horrors that threaten to overwhelm me. It’s been more than four years since the accident my mom deliberately caused, yet the image of the car careening off the road, the sickening crash as it collided with the trees, and the jarring impact that left me unconscious, all replay in my mind like a broken record. She wanted to paralyze me momentarily until the master would come to claim me.

The pain and terror I experienced in that moment echo through me now, and I hug my knees tighter, willing away the vivid recollections.

A sudden warm caress against my trembling hand makes my body jolt in surprise, my heart quickening its pace. Grey’s tired eyes meet mine, dark circles beneath them betraying his exhaustion. He’s waiting for my reaction, concern etched into his features.

We’re all alone in a world that has cast us aside.

“Are you okay?” he asks as his fingertips gently stroke my hand.

I try not to flinch away from his touch, instead focusing on the fragile sense of safety it offers, if only for a moment. Relief floods me when Grey doesn’t push me to talk, and eventually, he looks straight ahead instead of at me.

I remove my hand from his hold, breathing deeply while trying to regain some semblance of control. Ignoring how he might react to the loss of contact, I pick at the skin on my heel, finding a grim satisfaction in smoothing out the rough patches.

A rumbling sound from outside the vehicle sends my heart scrambling inside my chest. Our car swerves to the side as another vehicle whizzes past us on the desolate road. I glance up, seeing Daxton’s grip tighten on the wheel, his knuckles whitening from the force.

The other car continues ahead, paying us no attention.

“That was close.” Daxton’s breath escapes him on a silent sigh, realizing the car poses no threat. Our pace slows, and soon Daxton pulls over to park on the side of the road.

“Is it really a good idea to stop?” Grey questions his brother, agitation evident in his voice.

“Drive yourself then if it’s so damn easy!” Daxton snaps.

I flinch at the way he raises his voice, curling myself deeper into a ball, and hugging myself tighter. Their bickering refuses to stop. Have they been going at it the entire ride from the dollhouse?

Without another word, I unbuckle my seatbelt and push open the car door, stepping out onto the gravel road. The cool breeze greets me, its fresh scent of earth and wood easing my senses. I stretch my legs, take a deep breath, and become acutely aware of how cramped and stifling the car had been, with the lingering pungent smell of burnt wood.

The night looms around us, the moon high up in the sky but casting shadows over the rest of the world.

“Where are you going? It’s not safe—”

“Stay back!” I rear, my heart in my throat, fighting against the panic threatening to overwhelm me.

I need to get out. I need—

I scramble out of the car, closing the door behind me with a loud thud. I hear a car door open and footsteps crunching against gravel, but whoever it is doesn’t come closer. I traverse the path closer to the forest, fighting to breathe properly, but it feels as if my lungs are clogged.

The refreshing night air washes over me, and I allow myself to take a deep breath, focusing on the coolness of it and letting it calm me down.

Finding a tree I can lean against, paranoia takes over, making every cell within itch with renewed nerves. As I stare up at the moon, reality blurs and blends with a nightmare I will never be free from.

“Come to your master, sweet girl,” a dark voice sounds from ahead, feet crunching against branches and leaves.

I’m frozen, paralyzed in fear without the possibility of moving, when a shadowed man steps out of the forest, his form shrouded in danger that promises torture.

“You shouldn’t have escaped from me. You will suffer. Bend!”

A cry escapes me when I see his pointed, black shoes and withered form drawing closer. I fall to my knees as he takes another step, his threatening presence suffocating me.

“Sweet girl. Come join your mother in death.”

A ghostly touch grazes my cheek, unwelcome and chilling, and a cold dread shatters within my ribcage. He’s here; the master came for me. I cry out again as his touch continues, a phantom grip tightening around my throat until I can’t breathe.

“Naya!” A shout from behind rings through the trees, but I cannot reply.

The master holds me in his punishing grip; he will steal me away from Grey, and this time, he won’t let me live.

“Where the fuck are you, Naya?” The voice echoes around me, grazing my senses but refusing to bring me back to reality.

The master is here. He’s here. I’m going to fucking die.

A more welcome touch wakes me out of my paralysis, shaking my arms until I gasp for breath. Pure terror shines in my eyes as I meet sapphire blue ones, finding solace in Grey’s presence. Tears trickle down my cheeks, and I can barely find my voice, desperately stuttering.

“He’s here. Frederick is…here,” I cry out, hugging myself as I scramble to get away from Grey.

“Shh, little doll. It’s okay.”

“He’s here!” I scream, but he doesn’t seem deterred.

Another crunch of leaves around me makes me flinch, my eyes wide like a startled deer on a highway.

“Naya, he’s not here. You’re safe. I promise,” Grey’s voice soothes my soul as he steps closer, extending his hand to me like someone trying to calm a startled animal.

“H-he’s not?” I meet his eyes and watch the utter heartbreak in them when he realizes I’m gone to the demons within my mind and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Grey shakes his head, and Daxton comes up behind him. “We should continue now before anyone sees us here.”

Grey smiles at me—a soft, melting smile that makes my heart ache even more. I allow him to take my hand and lead me back to the car. I can’t help but glance back at the forest, the ominous sounds filtering through the surroundings, and the glowing moon now hiding behind clouds. Somewhere far away, crows caw, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

I quickly settle into the car again, and this time, Grey joins me in the backseat, throwing his arm around my shoulder and holding me close. A sense of safety blankets me, knowing the master isn’t here to take me. Instead, my own monster is here to chase away all other predators.

I’m no longer at the dollhouse, but that doesn’t mean my mind won’t always belong to Arthur and Frederick Grimhill. Their shadows linger, promising eternal suffering, and no matter how far I run, I will never truly be freed.