I inspected the hall. Nothing. The bathroom. Nothing. Then the living room. I sighed with relief but then I saw it. Bloodied hand-prints were spattered on the full length windows. A series of tiny hand-prints. All made by a left hand. It was all real. It had happened. Maybe I needed to research the history of this place. I knew that an old lady owned it before I did. She had passed away a few years ago, and the house was put up for sale. I knew there was an old box of books of hers in the basement. I had never went though them because I didn't think it was right. But then, in that moment, I needed to know what the hell was going on.

"Morning. Are you okay?" Tammy's voice resonated from behind me.

"I guess." I smiled, trying to reassure her that everything was going to be fine, although I don't think it wasn't very convincing.

"Find anything?"

I nodded and pointed to the hand-prints on the windows.

"Whoa! This is really messed up."

"We have to find out what's happening. I'm not waiting for it to come back! Lets go through the old lady's books, maybe we will find something."

I was glad Tammy had drawn the same conclusion I had. So we proceeded to the basement. It was the old box in the dusty corner, covered by a dirty, old sheet. There were some decrepit books, possibly diaries or old photographs. Tammy picked up the book and discovering it was the latter, started flipping through them.

I picked up another strange book. It was not a diary. Instead it seemed to contain incantations and things of the occult. It was definitely associated with a form of dark magic. My eyes widened as the puzzle pieces clicked in my mind.

"Holy shit. I- I think I found it" I mumbled, quietly yet excitedly. Half trapped in a maze of thought.

"Let me see. I think I found something too!" As I handed her the book I'd found she reached me a musty, old photograph of a little girl with long braided hair. She had dark eyes and was possibly around eight or nine years old The oddest thing about the photo was that she seemed to resemble the doll- the little doll she was holding...

It seemed to be an exact replica of the little girl.

We were on a good start but needed more information; I flipped through the pages of the strange book and found paged marked with a line of dark, crimson blood traced down the right side of the page. Written on the page was an incantation to transfer your soul to an inanimate representation of yourself so that it may grow old instead of you.

"This little girl didn't know what she was messing with, where would she even find this?" I asked, astonished.

"I don't know, maybe someone gave it to her? She wouldn't have known it existed." Tammy suggested.

There were two other little, dark books in the box. One titled "Marie" and the other "Annie". One name rang a bell. I knew Annie was the name of the lady who used to live there at the house. I started reading Marie's diary and Tammy read Annie's.

"They're sisters." I said. We continued to flip through the tired, yellowed pages.

"Yeah, Annie seems to be very worried about Marie in this entry. She says she's been acting peculiar." Tammy remarked.

"What's the date on it?" I asked.

"6th June, 1958."

I flicked to that page in Annie's book.

"I'm so frustrated with Mama and Papa," I read, "They never listen to me! I'm old enough to know what's best for me! I am old enough! I don't need their permission to leave the house. If I want to go I should just be allowed to go. This is not a prison!" Clearly Annie was dealing with some childhood angst. Nothing too strange there.

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