Chapter 4

Ellie takes a deep breath and opens the folder. She finds newspaper clippings inside of occurrences where neighborhood animals went missing. Ellie suspects the neighborhoods were close to the manor. One of the first signs of someone who will end up a psychopath is animal torture while they are young children. There are pictures of Brahms as a child. In each of them, he has a sullen expression on his face, except for the last one. He's caught off guard, his face dancing with delight. The focus of the picture is an older man, his foot caught in a hunting trap of some sort. Ellie shudders. Had the child set the trap and then watched the poor man struggle, trying to free himself? Had he delighted in the man's pain? His face says that is exactly what he did.

She puts the folder aside, unable to look at any more tales of torture. She's seen enough to turn her stomach already. Picking up his father's journal, she opens it to the place that was left bookmarked.

May 24

My wife refuses to see it, but I can't ignore it any longer. There is something not quite right with our boy. She laughs and says he's just precocious. It's more than that. The boy is damaged. God knows we have loved him, given him everything that a parent could. Except maybe our time. In the last few years, we have both been busy outside the house and relied on our staff to keep track of Brahms. Perhaps he is acting out now to get our attention.

Acting out may not be quite the right word, though. It's more of small accidents the staff seem to be having. They are blaming the boy for them. Surely he can't be deliberately trying to hurt anyone can he?

I'm concerned. My uncle was institutionalized for trying to kill his family in his twenties. Mental illness runs in my family. I haven't spoken of this with my wife. I'm hopeful now that my wife is home more, these strange acts will desist.

I scan the journal. There are more entries where Brahms father laments on his failure as a parent due to having to be away on business so much. One entry catches my eye.

July 7

I can't ignore this any longer. The staff are resigning. My son is not the child I raised. At first I suspected he'd inherited Henry's mental illness, but as I've watched him, I fear that is not the case. Our groundskeeper, Miles, had a serious accident. He stepped into a hunting trap. My grandfather used to hunt quite a bit and the old traps were stored in the gardening shed. I know deep in my bones, my son did that. His face...he enjoyed watching Miles scream as we tried to free him. That is not mental illness. That is pure evil. I fear what else the boy will do if left unattended.

July 19

Our new nanny seems to have done the trick. She instituted a list of rules the boy is to follow and ones we are to follow around him. The accidents have ceased and there is a calmness in the house that hasn't been here for years. I think all is going to be well.

Ellie reads over the rules in the journal and her eyes widen when she realizes it is the same list of rules that had been given to her. The rules had apparently given Brahms some kind of structure and kept him in line according to the rest of the journal entry. As long as he was kept happy and the rules were followed, he behaved. Ellie should have bit the bullet and just set him down to eat, even if he couldn't. She'd upset him and he isn't behaving anymore. She turns her attention back to the journal, skimming for more mention of the child.

August 1

She is inconsolable. Our boy is dead. A horrific fire. Not just Brahms, but the little girl who came to play with him. It is a sad day for all of us. 1

August 15

We keep finding the doll in Brahms' room. I even threw the thing out yesterday and it still ended up sitting on my boy's bed. There have been more accidents in the house as well. Nothing to cause real harm, but the staff are whispering about the doll. My wife has become convinced our boy lives on in the doll. Why else would the nanny leave it and not want it back? She knows the doll is possessed.

I don't think such a thing is possible, but there are times when I feel the doll staring at me, times when I know someone is watching me. I think I'm going crazy. Maybe it's grief, maybe I'm the one with the mental illness. I don't know what to do or think...

A loud thud interrupts Ellie's reading and she looks up startled. There is a copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales lying on the floor. It must have fallen from the table, but how? She hadn't been anywhere near it. Confused she sets the journal down and looks around. The door is still tightly closed. Picking up the only weapon she sees, a letter opener, she gets up and goes over to the table. There is no possible way he's in here with her. There just isn't.

But what if he came in before she did?

Bracing herself, she looks behind the sofa and much to her horror, there he sits, surrounded by books and toy cars. One is under his hand, like he's been playing with it. His head slowly turns upwards and before he can lock eyes with her, Ellie runs, fumbling with the lock on the door and then fleeing the library.

She can't stay in this house. If she does, the same fate that befell Elizabeth and every other nanny before her will be the end of her. Her car is still outside. She'll just have to brave the storm. There's a set of spare keys taped to underneath the front bumper. Not taking the time to collect her coat, Ellie lets herself out and heads straight for her car.

The blinding snow beats at her, blurring her vision, but she finally makes it to her little Honda. Fingers already starting to go numb from the freezing cold winds search for the key. She finds the tape, but it's loose and the key is gone. No. She'd checked it before she left. She always checked to make sure it was on tight.

It had to be Brahms. He'd snuck out here and found the key. She glances back at the house and sees the front door standing wide open. Had she left it open? Or had the doll opened it? Panic blossoms and Ellie stumbles away from the house. She'd find the road and then a house. She'd passed a few on her way. Help is just down the road.

The wind is severe, blinding Ellie with snow as she treks through the woods. She slows. She'd been walking the driveway. How did she get manage to get so off course? The storm. She could barely see through the blizzard conditions. Still, she pushed on. She would find a house soon.

After what felt like hours, Ellie's frozen body stumbles and she goes down on one knee. She's so tired. Her limbs feel heavy. Ellie tries to stand up, but her knee gives out and she falls forward. She blinks. Get up, Ellie, she tells herself, but she just lays there in the snow.

A giggle reaches her ears. At first she thinks it's just the howling of the wind, but when she turns her head, she sees Brahms standing there. He's smiling and his little doll eyes pierce her heart. She can see them through the blinding snow. He knows what he is going to do. 5

She'd broken the rules.

Now she had to pay the consequences.