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Asher had absolutely no idea that he seemed to have been targeted by something… unpleasant.
By now, he had already returned to the apartment building.
Just as he pulled out his key and was about to slide it into the lock, the door next to his opened.
Ebina Nana, who lived next door, stepped out.
The moment she saw Asher, her voice brightened with enthusiasm.
"Good afternoon, Asher!"
Hearing her, Asherturned his head.
He saw Ebina Nana greeting him, and a gentle smile appeared on his face.
"Good afternoon, Nana."
"Eh? Asher, did you just get home?"
"Yeah. Are you heading out for your part-time job?"
"That's right, Mr. Asher."
Ebina Nana nodded obediently.
But then, she quickly noticed something strange.
Her gaze drifted to Asher's shoulder.
"Huh? Mr. Asher , what's that doll?"
"Is it an accessory? I didn't think you had such a childish side, Mr. Asher."
As she spoke, she covered her mouth and laughed softly, her cute face full of amusement.
But seeing her reaction only made Asher feel confused.
"A doll?"
He turned his head toward his shoulder.
The next second, his eyes widened.
At some point, without him noticing at all, a delicate doll wearing a Lolita-style dress was sitting quietly on his shoulder.
Wait… wasn't this the same doll he'd seen earlier by a trash bin?
The scene from before immediately resurfaced in Asher's mind.
Ebina Nana caught the shock on his face and let out a puzzled sound.
"Mr. Asher? What's wrong?"
Her voice snapped him back to reality.
Asher took a deep breath and smiled at her again.
"It's nothing, Nana."
"If you're heading to work, you should hurry. You don't want to be late."
"Mm, I know, Mr. Asher."
Although she found his reaction strange, since Asher had already brushed it off, Ebina Nana could only nod. After a brief goodbye, she headed toward the stairs.
Only after her figure disappeared around the corner did Asher unlock his door and step inside.
As soon as he got home, he sat down on the sofa, lifted the palm-sized doll off his shoulder, and placed it on the table in front of him.
"What exactly are you?"
He stared at the exquisitely made doll with a serious expression.
There was no way he believed this thing was just an ordinary toy.
It had appeared silently on his shoulder and followed him all the way home.
No matter how you looked at it, there was nothing normal about that.
Yet no matter how closely Asher examined it, no matter how he turned it over or poked at it, the doll remained frozen in the same expression.
It really did look like nothing more than a normal doll.
Then suddenly, a thought popped into his head.
He remembered reading about some urban horror legends from this country.
One of them was called Miss Mary's Phone Call.
The story went something like this: a little girl accidentally found an abandoned doll and brought it home.
No matter where she put the doll, the next morning it would always appear in her bed.
After some time, terrified, the girl threw the doll into a river.
But the very next day, something unexpected happened.
A girl calling herself Miss Mary phoned her.
From that day on, the girl lost consciousness forever, becoming a vegetable, just like the doll that could be manipulated at will…
"So… don't tell me I've run into Miss Mary from some creepy urban legend?"
The more Asher thought about it while staring at the doll, the more likely it seemed.
Seriously, I just looked at you once and you decided to latch onto me?
Asher was speechless.
Do vengeful spirits here really hurt people this casually?
Annoyed, Asher grabbed the doll, walked out onto the balcony, and tossed it down into the ditch between the building and the wall behind it.
The ditch was completely neglected, full of damp soil and weeds. A miserable place.
However.
The moment Asher turned back around…
The doll he had clearly thrown away was sitting neatly on the table again, completely intact.
And it was facing him.
That fixed smile on its face looked like it was mocking his helplessness.
"…You're really pushing it, aren't you?"
At this point, Asher was sure of it. He had definitely been targeted by Miss Mary.
And the more he looked at that doll's face, the more irritating it became.
Muttering under his breath, Asher decided to let the delicate doll experience what true torture meant.
Burning it. Tearing it apart. Stripping off its clothes. Drowning it.
Every method of torment he could think of, he tried.
Yet no matter how badly he damaged it, the next moment the doll would reappear in the living room, perfectly unharmed.
In the end, Asher could only sigh in frustration and toss it into a corner, ignoring it completely.
Since this thing had already set its sights on him, it was bound to come looking for him sooner or later.
When that time came, he'd make sure Miss Mary learned exactly why flowers were red.
What Asher didn't know was that the doll, carelessly thrown into the corner and left unattended, was staring at his busy figure moving between the living room and the kitchen with pure fury on its face.
Clearly, the series of "tortures" he'd inflicted on her hadn't been meaningless at all.
I'm so mad!
I was going to toy with you for a few days before killing you.
And this is how you treat me?!
Tonight, I'll make you regret it!
…
Time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, night fell.
After dinner, Asher relaxed on the sofa. He had no interest in paying attention to the doll still lying in the corner.
After flipping through several TV channels and growing so bored he was about to yawn, a buzzing vibration came from the phone on the coffee table.
Asher picked it up and saw that the caller ID read: Unknown.
He already had a rough guess.
He answered the call.
"Hello?"
The moment his voice fell, a small, eerily hollow girl's voice came from the other end of the line.
"This is a call from Miss Mary. I'm downstairs in your building right now."
"....."