Day 11 started with a sense of cautious relief for Eddie, Buck, and Christopher after the exorcism and cleansing ritual. The night had been peaceful, and for the first time in weeks, the house felt still. The constant weight of fear that had clung to their lives was gone—or so they thought.
As morning light filtered through the kitchen windows, Eddie stood at the stove, flipping pancakes while Buck sat at the table with a cup of coffee. Christopher was finishing his cereal, a rare, serene smile on his face.
"I still can't believe it's over," Buck said, leaning back in his chair. "After everything we've been through... I didn't think we'd get a normal morning like this again."
Eddie glanced at Buck and nodded. "Yeah, me either. But it feels good. Like we're finally getting back to normal."
"How did you sleep?" Buck asked, a knowing edge to his voice.
Eddie paused for a moment, flipping a pancake onto a plate before replying. "Better than I have in a while. No nightmares, no... strange visions."
"That's a win," Buck said, managing a smile. "Christopher, you feeling ready for school today?"
Christopher nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I feel good. No more weird dreams or anything. And I got all my homework done."
"That's my boy," Eddie said with a grin, sliding the plate of pancakes onto the table.
But before they could relax into their breakfast, Christopher suddenly stiffened. His gaze drifted toward the hallway leading to his room. His brow furrowed, and he put his spoon down slowly.
"What is it, bud?" Eddie asked, sensing a shift in the air.
Christopher's eyes were wide as he turned toward Eddie and Buck. "The... the doll. It's back."
Eddie's face dropped, and Buck's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean, back? We threw it away."
Christopher pointed down the hallway. "It's in my room. On my desk."
A cold silence filled the room as Eddie and Buck exchanged worried glances. Without a word, Eddie stood up, and Buck followed close behind. They moved toward Christopher's bedroom with mounting dread.
When they entered the room, there it was—the female doll they had smashed and thrown into the garbage only the night before. It sat, perfectly placed, on Christopher's desk, its cold eyes staring straight ahead.
Eddie felt a wave of anger and fear roll through him. "No way," he muttered under his breath, storming toward the desk and snatching up the doll. His grip was tight, his knuckles white. "We got rid of this."
Buck stood beside him, his face pale. "How is it back? We smashed it. I saw you."
Christopher hovered by the door, anxiety written across his face. "I didn't bring it back, I swear."
Eddie knelt beside Christopher, placing a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. "I know, bud. This isn't your fault. I'm going to take care of it, okay?"
Christopher nodded, though his eyes were still wide with fear.
Without another word, Eddie stormed out of the room with the doll in hand, heading straight for the back door. Buck and Christopher followed him out to the backyard, watching as Eddie grabbed a hammer from the garage.
With a single, furious motion, Eddie laid the doll on the ground and raised the hammer high above his head. He brought it down with a force that sent shards of porcelain flying in every direction. He smashed it again and again, each hit more violent than the last.
"You're not coming back this time," Eddie growled through clenched teeth, driving the hammer down one final time. The doll was now nothing more than a pile of broken fragments, scattered across the backyard.
Buck stepped forward cautiously, placing a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "It's gone, Eddie. You did it."
Eddie dropped the hammer, breathing heavily. He looked at Christopher, who was standing a few feet away, watching the whole scene unfold. Without a word, Eddie moved toward his son and wrapped him in a tight hug.
"It's okay, mijo," Eddie whispered. "I'm not letting anything hurt you. Ever."
Christopher hugged him back tightly, his small arms wrapping around Eddie as though his life depended on it. "I believe you, Dad."
Buck stood beside them, watching the scene with a heavy heart. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. The doll had come back. It wasn't supposed to, and they didn't know why.
"What do we do now?" Buck asked quietly.
Eddie, still holding Christopher, glanced over at the shattered remains of the doll. "We'll clean it up. Make sure nothing is left. And we're going to figure out how this happened."
Buck nodded. "I'll help you."
A few hours later, after Christopher had been dropped off at school, Eddie and Buck sat at the dining table again, the tension between them thick. The doll was gone—destroyed beyond recognition—but the unease still clung to the house like a bad dream.
"We need to figure out why it came back," Eddie said, his voice low and filled with frustration. "We got rid of it, Buck. Why is it still haunting us?"
Buck leaned back, staring at the ceiling as though it might give him answers. "I don't know, but something isn't adding up. The exorcism should have worked. The house was cleansed, the spirits moved on…"
"Unless it didn't work," Eddie interrupted, his voice tinged with doubt.
Buck frowned, sitting up straight. "But we didn't feel anything last night, Eddie. No cold spots, no weird noises… nothing."
"Until this morning," Eddie replied, rubbing his temples. "Something is still connected to that doll. We need to contact Trent again. Maybe they can tell us why it came back."
Buck nodded, though he couldn't shake the feeling that contacting the investigator might not be enough. "I think we also need to talk to Jack Adamski again. There's something we're missing about Emily and her connection to this doll."
Eddie agreed, though the thought of contacting the man whose family had caused so much pain made him uneasy. "We'll call him. And in the meantime, we'll make sure that doll doesn't come back again."
