When my four-year-old daughter Chloe begged me to leave my girlfriend Lily’s house, her trembling voice sent chills through me. Her fear was palpable, and though I didn’t understand what had frightened her, I couldn’t ignore her urgency. “Chloe, don’t forget your jacket,” I called out as I grabbed my keys.
“I don’t need it, Daddy!” she yelled back, her voice muffled from the closet where she was probably choosing her sparkly sneakers. I shook my head, smiling at her independent streak. Raising Chloe alone wasn’t easy—her mother had left when she was just a baby, deciding that motherhood wasn’t for her.
For the past four years, it had been just the two of us. We had struggled at first, but we found our rhythm, and Chloe became my world. Three months ago, I met Lily.
What started as a casual conversation in a coffee shop quickly blossomed into something more. Lily was warm and easy to be around. She had even met Chloe a couple of times, and they seemed to get along well, which gave me hope for the future.
Tonight was the first time Chloe and I visited Lily’s home. She had invited us over for dinner and a movie, and Chloe had been excited all week. When we arrived, Lily greeted us warmly, and Chloe gasped in delight at the fairy lights twinkling on the balcony.
The apartment was cozy and filled with personal touches that reflected Lily’s vibrant personality. Chloe seemed happy, darting around the room and marveling at the decorations. “Do you like video games?” Lily asked Chloe, kneeling to her level.
“I have an old console in my room you can try while your dad and I finish dinner.”
Chloe’s eyes lit up, and she eagerly followed Lily down the hallway. I stayed in the kitchen, chatting with Lily as she finished cooking. Everything felt perfect—until Chloe reappeared.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear. “Daddy, I need to talk to you. Alone,” she whispered.
I knelt down, my heart sinking. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Her voice trembled. “She’s bad, Daddy.
Really bad. There are heads in her closet. Real heads.
They were looking at me.”
For a moment, I was too stunned to speak. “Heads?” I asked, trying to make sense of her words. “People heads,” she hissed, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“We have to go!”
I didn’t know if this was a product of her imagination or something worse, but her fear was undeniable. I scooped her up, murmured an excuse to Lily about Chloe feeling unwell, and left. Once Chloe was safe at my mom’s house, I couldn’t shake the gnawing doubt.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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