She glanced at the date and the footage, realizing it was that crisp morning—the first reply she'd gotten after hitting send on her question.
She remembered snapping a selfie back then.
Mom's knock had come out of nowhere, scaring the crap outta her, and her phone slipped right from her hand.
Must've been then that her thumb fumbled the shutter.
Click—snapped that pic by accident.
She pinched the screen, zooming in on the photo.
Maria stared hard, not blinking.
It was this freaky face, all wrong proportions—especially the eyes, way too big for any normal mug.
Pics don't lie; no way this was fake.
She lined up the background in the shot, and whoa—plugging in that face's angle? It was looking straight down.
And get this: dead center in its sights? Her own face.
Coincidence?
Her heart started pounding like a jackhammer. Was it her imagination, or did the back of her neck feel like someone was drilling holes with their stare?
She tensed up, swinging her legs off the bed, eyes glued to that face in the photo. Her mind raced to dark places.
Was it still here?
That thought popped in uninvited.
Had it been watching her this whole time?
Chills exploded all over her skin, goosebumps on goosebumps. The room had the heat cranked, but she felt ice-cold anyway.
That chill hit her body like a truck—her relaxed vibe locked up tight, every muscle on edge.
The little hum she'd been humming? Cut off cold. Her face went sheet-white, teeth sinking into her lower lip from the nerves.
Deep night outside, wind barely whispering. The room? Dead silent.
Maria could hear her own heartbeat thumping away, loud as thunder. She froze solid, not daring to twitch.
Maybe she should've played it cool, acted like nothing was up. Regret gnawed at her.
Twenty seconds ticked by like that.
Phone went dark from inactivity.
The glossy black screen? It caught a perfect reflection of the dresser behind her—the exact spot where that face had been lurking in the photo.
Should she check?
Her throat bobbed hard, mouth dry as cotton. Eyes darting everywhere, she couldn't make herself move.
But stonewalling forever? Nah, she'd have to face it eventually.
Little by little, she muscled down a sliver of fear and flicked her eyes over with a quick side-glance.
Nothing.
One more peek.
Still zilch.
Ha! Guess she was just spooking herself.
The knot in her gut unwound in a rush, body going limp.
But man, what a rollercoaster—her mood was shot, no way she could keep scrolling.
Time to crash.
Maria rolled over, feet hitting the floor, hand reaching for the light switch. Then—bam—it hit her again: that face.
What if it's hiding up on the dresser, waiting till she dozed off to creep in and stare?
Whoa, hold up—that sounded just like that pen pal of hers!
Once the panic dialed back, her brain kicked into gear.
A theory sparked.
Okay, hear me out—what if, just what if...
Barry was that shadowy thing in her photo.
Come on, in a tiny room like this? Room for a bunch of ghosts? They'd be scrapping like cats in a sack!
Her mind spun like a top. For the first time, she felt straight-up genius-level smart.
The more she chewed on it, the more it stuck—had to be right.
That fresh idea wouldn't quit buzzing around her skull. She had to test it.
Hell, it even trumped the heebie-jeebies.
Maria tilted her head up, mustering some guts, and locked eyes on top of the dresser.
First glance? Just a couple storage bins chilling there, all normal, no red flags.
But between the boxes? Gaps. And deep in those shadows? Blind spots she couldn't pierce.
Something in her gut whispered—something was peeking out from there.
The vibe was so damn strong, she couldn't brush it off.
Growing up, Maria'd get these random moods that didn't jive with her usual shy self—like some glitch in the matrix.
Take the bullying: she'd shrink and take it or bolt, but sometimes? A fire would build inside, another voice egging her on.
Go for it!
Hit back hard at these jerks who treat you like dirt—make 'em regret it!
Cowardice vs. guts, run vs. fight...
Those clashing thoughts would tangle up, bash heads.
Some days, Maria couldn't even tell which was the real her.
Was Dad right? Did she... did she actually have some kinda mental break?
Was she that far gone, or was it all just wild imagination? Even she couldn't sort it, and it'd keep her up nights.
Whenever that weird shift hit, that intense pull would surge—like another her waking up.
If she checked the mirror right then? The usual scared-kid face would sharpen up, a cocky glint in her eyes, sharp as a switchblade, cold as ice.
She dragged the chair from her desk, climbed up, went up on her tiptoes, one hand steadying on the dresser.
Flashlight on, beam slicing into the unlit crevice.
Boom-boom-boom!
Right in her grill: a chibi big-headed straw doll, just sitting there, watching her quiet as you please.
Surprise!
Eek—ghost crud!
Her heart felt like some invisible fist squeezing the life out, breath catching hard.
She stared daggers ahead. The mini-straw guy pressed a finger to his lips—shh—like, keep it down.
Even braced, Maria jumped out of her skin. Legs buckled, balance gone, she teetered back.
"Waaah!"
Silent scream, face pure panic, limbs flailing like a bad marionette.
No sweat—I got you.
Barry's eyes narrowed. Left hand shot out, fingers flicking straw that whipped through the air, thickening on the fly.
Straw lasso!
It twisted into ropes, snagging her tumbling body, yanking her back upright.
Like a puppet on strings, a quick tug or two, and she was planted firm on the chair, not a scratch.
Man, this move's gold—offense and rescue in one.
One of Barry's faves.
Level up the power someday? He could straight-up cosplay Spider-Man, swinging between NYC skyscrapers, the hotshot hero everyone's chasing.
Anyway.
After hauling Maria back from the brink, Barry glanced down into a pair of wide, sparkly eyes.
It saved me!
Shock and thrill hit her—fear mostly gone.
Knew it! The ghost—no, straw-man Barry.
But even with her hunch locked in, she mouthed the words, voice tiny.
"You? Barry?"
No point hiding now.
Yup, the one and only Silent Hill boss-man.
"That's me." Barry owned it, dipping into a gentlemanly bow. Seconds later, he looked up. "Evening, Maria."
read lots story at patreon
always update and finish
belamy20 only for 5$