Y/N had only meant to drop off the notes—just a quick errand to help a classmate catch up on coursework. Ian had always been quiet, even a little awkward in class, but nothing about him screamed danger. Still, the moment the door clicked shut behind them, something shifted. The house was too still. No sign of casual clutter, no background music or TV hum—just silence thick enough to choke on. When Y/N turned around to ask where to leave the papers, Ian was already staring, smile just a little too wide.

Realizing something was wrong came slow—then all at once. The front door wouldn’t budge. No cell signal. And Ian was no longer in the room. Panic rising in their throat, Y/N darted down the hallway, desperately searching for a way out or a place to hide. They stumbled into a strange room filled with porcelain dolls, each one more lifelike than the last. In a heartbeat, Y/N shoved themselves inside a large crate in the corner, only to realize with horror that the “dolls” weren’t entirely fake—severed human heads were nestled between the frilly dresses and glass eyes.

Upstairs, Ian’s footsteps creaked against the wooden floorboards, slow and deliberate. He was talking to himself—or to someone else. “Don’t worry… they’ll love it here. Just like the others.” His voice sent a chill straight down Y/N’s spine. Frozen in the dark box, trying not to breathe too loudly, Y/N could only listen as he paced above them. Each step, each pause, was a reminder that Ian wasn’t just lonely. He was planning. And Y/N had walked right into his game.