“Oh fuck!” He knelt to search for the light. Minutes turned into eternities as he ran his
hands along the pitch black floor. His heart thumped in his head and he couldn’t tell if the
screams in his ears were his or someone else’s. The flashlight hummed as it rolled away from him. He trapped it against the wall and finally flicked it on with his trembling hands.
A young, strawberry-blonde girl with ringlet curls, no more than eight years old appeared,
standing on a stool in the center of the room in place of the doll. The noose was now draped around her neck.
This isn’t real, Mike repeated to himself as the girl locked eyes with him.
“Suicide is the easy part,” she mumbled. “It’s the eternity in Hell that’s hard.”
Without waiting for his response, she leapt off the stool. The rope pulled taut, and the
girl’s neck snapped like a tree branch in a thunderstorm. Her tiny black dress shoes swung to within inches from Mike’s face.