If not for the fact he could barely control his limbs anymore, Monkey would probably have smacked himself on his lips. He swore to never curse himself inside a Haunted House anymore.
Separated from his group, stranded with no help, standing in the middle of a darkened corridor, chased by a crazed murderer that could appear at any moment, and haunted by dolls that would be there wherever he turned to look… this kind of hellish Haunted House experience made Monkey’s breathing unsteady. “Why did it appear here? When did it follow me? How can it move?”
His brain was swamped with endless questions, his composure was brutally shattered, and his hands that held the phone were shaking violently.
“Monkey, where are you‽ Please come save me! I feel like the dolls in the room are looking at me! I
