They had already searched the entire second and third floors, meaning there was only one place left where the trunk could be; the attic. Jesse had spotted the trapdoor on the ceiling earlier, and now he was positive they would find it there.

  As he made his way over to the hatch, he kept glancing around, expecting another illusion to pop out; another Damien lounging around, another scarecrow charging at him, but nothing happened. The house was as quiet as when they first arrived.

  Even so, he was glad he had Mason with him, the small spiderling tucked safely into the crook of his neck. Any time he looked down at him for reassurance, the spider gave him a tiny wave, letting him know they were in the clear. It seemed that Waylor was backing off for the time being. For what reason, Jesse didn’t know, but he planned to take full advantage of the lull in action.

  He had to jump to reach the string that pulled open the hatch, and a set of wooden stairs cascaded down in front of him. From where he was, he couldn’t see anything in the attic, just the darkness above. Steeling himself, he took the steps one at a time, each step creaking beneath his weight. If there was anything alive or dead waiting for him up there, it would already know he’s coming.

  He poked his head up to survey the room before entering. It was still dark, but he could see a little better thanks to the moonlight streaming through the lone dormer window, and he was surprised to find that it was pretty standard as far as attics went. He had half expected to find even more dolls, or torture tools as proof of Waylor’s homicidal tendencies, but all that was up there was spare furniture, old clothing, and a single solitary trunk.

  “Jackpot,” he told Mason, and held his finger up for a spider high-five.

  Kneeling before the trunk, he found it was locked tight with a combination lock, comprised of four dials.

  Waylor didn’t mention this when he told us to find the trunk, Jesse thought dryly. Once again, it felt like the ghost didn’t actually want them to get whatever was inside.

  He spun the dials to 1234. Needless to say, it didn’t work.

  “Yeah, that would have been too easy. Any suggestions?”

  Mason shook his head, just as stumped as he was. He was about to try 5678 next, when he suddenly remembered the tag he had seen on the ceramic doll.

  Well, it couldn’t hurt to try.

  He inserted the date that had been on the tag, 1868, and the lock opened with a soft click. The hinges of the trunk creaked as Jesse eased the lid open.

  At first glance, it looked like nothing of import was inside, just some bundles of scrap cloth, until he noticed a small object nestled among them. Gingerly, he picked it up to examine closer.

  The object was a lighter that looked to be made of a silvery metal, and even though its design made it look like something from the nineteenth century, its shiny surface gleamed underneath the moonlight as if it were brand new, without any hint of rust or tarnish. Embellished on the side in an ornate font was the letter W. W for Waylor.

  This had to be it, whatever it even was.

  He heard muffled voices from downstairs. Shoving the lighter into his pocket, he cast a quick glance at Mason, who nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief. It was really his friends then, not some haunted dolls pretending to be them.

  Descending the ladder, he found everyone gathered on the third-floor landing, Charlotte and Jeremy looking quite pleased at having accomplished the task that Jesse had set out for them. Charlotte was perched on Alicia’s shoulder, while her brother had buried himself in Siobhan’s pocket.

  “Look mister Jesse, we found everyone!” she excitedly reported.

  “Good job.”

  His friends all looked shaken, but he was relieved to see that nobody was injured.

  “Jesse, are you okay?” Alicia asked, a look of concern on her face. In all the commotion, he’d forgotten that he was the only one who didn’t reply to her check-in text.

  “Yeah, we’re both fine,” he assured her. “Mason kept me out of trouble.”

  “Nice going, bro!” Jeremy cheered.

  “Did you find the stupid trunk?” Judging from the edge in Noah’s voice as he spoke, he was ready to leave.

  Jesse nodded, digging the lighter out of his pocket and holding it up to show them.

  “This is what Waylor wanted us to find?” Siobhan asked, taking it from him to get a better look.

  “It was the only thing in the trunk,” he informed them. “Do you think this is his source?”

  “We haven’t found anything else that could be,” Alicia said.

  Siobhan frowned as she turned the lighter over in her hands. “There’s something... off about it. Bella’s been teaching me how to sense magic, how to feel it in objects, and this thing definitely has something supernatural going on.”

  Noah grunted. “Sounds like it’s the source. Give it here, I’ll smash it.” He held his hand out.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  A chill ran down Jesse’s spine as he turned toward the familiar voice. The doll from before stood at the edge of the landing, her eerie blue eyes fixed on the lighter in Siobhan’s hand.

  Alicia pointed at her. “Please tell me that’s just another freaky illusion.”

  “It’s not,” Charlotte squeaked, burying herself in the hood of Alicia’s jacket.

  The doll flashed that same too-wide smile. “I’m afraid I’m done with tricks for the evening. Give me the lighter.”

  “What if we don’t want to?” Noah asked, clenching his fists as Siobhan hid the lighter in her pocket.

  “Then I’ll be forced to get creative.”

  Jesse did not want to find out what that meant, but as his brain was struggling to figure a way out of their predicament, he felt Mason tugging on the collar of his shirt, trying to get his attention. There was no way that meant anything good, and sure enough, when he turned around, he found the figure of a man lurking at the end of the hall, flickering in the moonlight as if he were just a projection. But Jesse knew better; he recognized the three-piece suit and balding hair that he had only caught a glimpse of earlier. It was the ghost of Joseph Waylor. And now he was staring straight at them.

  No, not at them. Past them, at the doll.

  “You... YOU!”

  Waylor raised his arms and a sudden force slammed into Jesse, sending him flying backwards and to the ground, and all around him, he could see his friends also knocked off their feet. He heard a cracking sound, like wood splintering, and looked up just in time to see Siobhan falling over the edge of the third-floor landing, the old banister having broken beneath her weight.

  No, no, no... He scrambled to his feet, fear clenching his heart. He almost cried in relief when he looked over the edge to see that she had managed to grab onto the bottom of the railing that hadn’t broken off. But she wasn’t the only one that had caught herself.

  The doll, who had also been sent over the edge in the blast, had grabbed Siobhan’s leg, leaving them both dangling precariously more than twenty feet above the ground floor.

  “Guys, a little help here?!” Siobhan shrieked.

  “Hang on!” Alicia called as she and Noah got to their feet, joining Jesse, who was already working to pull her up. “We’ve got you!”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “And she’s got me!”

  He looked over the railing to see that the doll was barely phased by the new turn of events, and started to pull herself up the length of Siobhan’s leg, slowly but surely making her way back up.

  “She’s going to get the lighter!”

  “Not if I can help it,” a small voice squeaked, and Jeremy emerged from the pocket he’d been in, lighter held triumphantly in two of his legs. He quickly crawled up her torso and all the way up her arm, climbing over the railing and back to the third-floor landing. To be honest, Jesse had almost forgotten that he’d been in her pocket to begin with, he’d been so uncharacteristically silent, but once the lighter was safely out of harm’s way, he knew he’d have to do something special for the spiderling later.

  “Give me that!” the doll demanded, voice growing vicious. Even when hanging on for dear life, all she could focus on was the lighter.

  “Get off me!” Siobhan lashed out, kicking at the doll, but her grip remained tight. Her relentless pace didn’t slow.

  Jesse and Alicia had each taken one of Siobhan’s arms, pulling her up with their combined strength, but even if they managed to get her up, they would still have the doll to deal with. He glanced around, looking for anything that might help them, before his eyes landed on an end table against the wall, covered in a white tarp. It looked like it had something like a vase on it, judging by the tent in the tarp.

  “Noah!” he shouted, and thankfully the boy immediately understood. Noah grabbed the edges of the table, effortlessly carrying it to the edge of the landing.

  “Head’s up,” he warned Siobhan.

  Her eyes widened when she realized what he was about to do, and she tucked her head in to protect herself as he released his hold on the table, letting it fall directly over the doll. Too preoccupied with pulling herself up, she didn’t notice the shadow looming over her until it was too late. The table connected with her face with the sickening crunch of cracking porcelain. Her grip on Siobhan loosened, and she plummeted down, all the way to the first floor far, far below.

  Jesse didn’t look, but a loud CRASH told him when she hit the ground and he could just imagine it; her porcelain body shattering everywhere against the hard wooden flooring.

  Jesse and Alicia gave one final heave and pulled Siobhan up and over the railing, where she promptly fell to her knees, fumbling for her inhaler.

  “Are you okay?” Jesse asked her, which was probably a stupid question, but he still had to ask.

  “Better, now that I’m not about to fall to my death.” Her hands shook as she fished her inhaler out of her pocket and brought it to her mouth. She took a deep breath before continuing, “Where’s Waylor?”

  He looked around, only to find the spirit was nowhere to be found. “He’s gone...”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t come back,” Noah said grimly, helping Siobhan to her feet.

  Jesse leveled a flat look at him. “By the way, you know I only wanted you to grab the vase on the table, right?”

  He shrugged. “I panicked. Worked either way.”

  “Let’s get back to the salt circle,” Alicia said. “If he does show up again, let’s make sure we’re prepared.”

  “That was totally awesome!” Jeremy declared, still holding onto the lighter. “Can we do that again?”

  “No!” they all told him at the same time.

  “She must have been the source the whole time,” Alicia said as she kicked a shard of porcelain, the pieces of the doll laying scattered before them, mixed with the wood and ceramic of the broken table and vase that Noah had thrown.

  It was the only explanation that made sense. The ghost of Joseph Waylor had completely disappeared, with no sign of him after ten minutes of waiting for him inside the salt circle, then ten more minutes of searching around. The house was silent, as it should be, and the only thing that had changed was the doll.

  “But then what was the lighter for?” Siobhan asked. She was still looking a little shaken after her near brush with death, hugging her arms around her tightly.

  “Don’t know,” Jesse said. “But the important thing is that we stopped Waylor.”

  “Agreed.” Alicia nodded. “Now all those rumors about the house can be put to rest. Considering everything that happened tonight, it’s safe to say someone from our school would have gotten hurt eventually.”

  “What are we going to do about her?” Noah jerked his head at the remains of the doll.

  Jesse shrugged. “I say we just leave her.”

  “But what if somebody finds her?” Siobhan said. “I think that would start up even more rumors. ‘Guys, you’ll never guess what I found in the house on River Street!’”

  “Cleanup it is.”

  Reluctantly, they began picking up the pieces of porcelain, stowing them into Jesse’s backpack for the time being. It was a bit macabre; while her body had shattered, her clothes remained intact, her dress and shoes now laying limply on the floor with nothing to fill them.

  “She was really pretty,” Charlotte remarked, examining a piece of the doll’s face. “When she wasn’t trying to get us, I mean.”

  “I guess.” Truthfully, Jesse found her white skin and staring eyes incredibly unsettling. He’d never understood people who collected these types of dolls in the first place, and after tonight he was certain he had gained a long-standing phobia.

  His hand paused over a certain piece before he could put it in his backpack. “Hang on...” He picked up what had been her brooch, a dark red gem inlaid in gold, with a large fracture running through the middle. Something about it looked familiar. “Siobhan, come here for a second.”

  He held the brooch next to the animation amulet that Bella had given her way back on Halloween. As it was a crucial part of her monster disguise, she always wore it whenever they visited Gravewood. The red jewels were identical.

  “The plot thickens...” Jeremy said conspiratorially.

  Noah frowned. “Is that one of those things that’s supposed to bring inanimate objects to life?”

  “Looks like it.” He also remembered seeing them on the scarecrows from the corn maze. Back then, Bella had told them that she was the one who set up the maze, including enchanting the scarecrows, but she wasn’t the one who had made the one from that night go crazy. And it if wasn’t her...

  Alicia caught on to what he was thinking. “Woah, does that mean...?”

  “The doll wasn’t being possessed, or controlled by Waylor,” Jesse finished.

  The pieces started to fall into place in his head; why it seemed like Waylor wanted them to find the lighter while at the same time trying to drive them out of the house. Why the Abernathy’s didn’t mention anything about possession or haunted dolls; it wasn’t a skill that ghosts had. But most importantly, why Waylor seemed to know what happened to them in the corn maze on Halloween. “I think... someone else might have been pulling her strings. The same person who made the stalker scarecrow attack us on Halloween.”

  “But who?”

  That, he didn’t know. He flipped the brooch over in his hand, hoping it could give him some kind of clue. Engraved in the gold on the back was the name Sophia. The doll’s name, perhaps?

  “Let’s gather her up,” Jesse decided. “We’ll bring her to Bella. Maybe she can give us some insight on what the heck is going on.”

  “It’s getting pretty late,” Siobhan remarked, looking at the time on her phone. “Should we wait until tomorrow?”

  “We have to go to Gravewood anyway, to get these three back home.” Jesse stared pointedly at the three spiderlings, who looked varying degrees of guilty. “But you’re right, Bella’s probably asleep right now, as you all should be.”

  “What about Dr. Rotbart?” Alicia suggested. “He did say that his door was always open.”

  “I doubt he meant that literally.”

  “It’s either him,” Noah said. “Or one of us takes the scary magical doll home, and I call dibs on not it.”

  “Fine. Rotbart’s lab it is.”

  “Can we come too?” Jeremy asked.

  “Absolutely not,” Siobhan said. “It is way past your bedtime. We’re taking you straight home.”

  “But we can’t just end it like this! We want to know what’s going on with the doll and the ghost. Right guys?” He looked to his siblings who all nodded eagerly.

  “Tell you what,” Alicia said, kneeling in front of them. “We’ve had a crazy night tonight. One that would probably be best to keep a secret from your mom. If you be good and head to bed, and not tell Mrs. Vanderwebb about any of this, then we’ll fill you in on what’s happening with our super special investigation as soon as we learn more.”

  “I don’t know...” Charlotte shifted anxiously on her feet. “I don’t like keeping secrets from mommy.”

  “You want to know what happens next with the doll, don’t you?” Noah pressed. “We can’t tell you if Cynthia won’t trust us around you anymore. Besides, you three aren’t exactly supposed to be here in the first place.”

  Now all three of them looked extra guilty.

  “Okay, but... you promise you’ll tell us how this story ends?”

  “Cross my heart.” He held up a hand as he did the gesture.

  “Great,” Jesse said. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get out of here.”

  After gathering the remaining pieces and stuffing them securely into his backpack, along with her clothes just in case, he tried the front door, letting out an internal sigh of relief when it swung open easily.

  It wasn’t until he was heading down the street, friends beside him and all three spiderlings tucked safely into his jacket pocket, that the adrenaline from the events of the past few hours finally wore off and he was hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion. He had just gotten through yet another violent encounter with the supernatural, not to mention babysitting a group of rowdy spiders beforehand. He was ready to dump the remains of the doll, Sophia, whatever they wanted to call it, off at Rotbart’s place and go home.

  But apparently, the night still had a couple of surprises in store. They had only made it to the end of River Street before bumping into someone unexpected while rounding the corner.

  “Reginald?” Siobhan asked, taking in his familiar glasses and red hair. “Is that you? What are you doing here?”

  If the nerdy boy he had met in the cafeteria earlier that week hadn’t been standing right in front of him, Jesse wouldn’t have believed it. But here he was, walking down the street all by himself with a backpack slung over his shoulder.

  At the sight of the boy, the three spiderlings sitting in Jesse’s pocket burrowed themselves deeper to hide.

  “I could ask the same of you.” Reginald adjusted his glasses, looking their group up and down, taking in her scarecrow costume. “Dressed like that, I might add.”

  “Uh, we were just-”

  “None of your business,” Noah said firmly.

  “Right. Then my response is the same as yours. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  He brushed past them, continuing down the sidewalk.

  “What a weirdo,” Noah muttered, and Jesse silently agreed.

  They kept walking down the street, eager to get the night over with, but before they turned the corner, Jesse cast one last look back at Reginald, only to find him staring up at the last house on River Street.