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Get Comfortable

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Tabby escaped the house four months ago. Four months of being free, of being alive, of hurting and grieving and learning to move on in a new town, living in a new house with new people and no monsters are evil curses to speak of.

Or, at least, that’s what she thought.

“What’s with that look on your face?” the doll—the doll, the doll from that awful, corrupted house, with its twisted limbs and blank stare and mocking, smug tone of voice—sits on her nightstand, wearing the same pink outfit that she remembers and looking like time hasn’t even remotely touched it since she last saw it. “Don’t you remember, you foolish girl? I told you. I told you, it never ends.”

Tabby takes a step back, eyes wide and knife shaking in her hand, looking on in horror as the shadows in the room twist and a dark, shifting mass manifests from the wall, its many eyes peering her down as it opens its mouth into a gaping, endless maw. Her heart leaps into her throat when she recognizes its eyes to be the same ones as her parents’ and sister’s.

“You should’ve known better,” the doll informs her.

“You should’ve known better than to let yourself drop your guard and get comfortable.”

And Tabby, unable to fight back against the beast protruding from her bedroom wall, does nothing but scream as it grabs her and swallows her whole, pulling her back into yet another nightmare that never, ever ends.