Next Door

Jaxon had just moved into a new neighborhood with his mom and little sister. Their new house was cozy, with a small yard and big windows. It felt peaceful. Almost too peaceful.

But there was something strange about the house next door.

It looked old, like no one had lived there for years. The paint was peeling, the mailbox hung crooked, and two old dolls sat on the lawn like they were watching everything. At night, one window glowed with a faint red light, even though the house was supposed to be empty.

"Mom, who lives there?" Jaxon asked one morning.

"No one, sweetheart," she said. "The house has been empty for a long time."

But Jaxon wasn’t so sure.

One evening, as the sun set and the crickets began to chirp, Jaxon was riding his bike past the house. He stopped when he noticed something new — the front door was open just a crack. Light poured from inside, a warm, golden glow. It felt like the house was calling to him.

Jaxon got off his bike and walked up the path slowly. His heart pounded. The dolls on the lawn looked at him — or so it seemed. Their little button eyes sparkled strangely in the moonlight.

When he reached the porch, he stood very still.

The door opened wider — creaking like it hadn’t moved in years. The light inside grew brighter, almost blinding. But what made Jaxon freeze wasn’t the light. It was the shadow cast on the ground behind him.

It wasn’t his shadow.

It was too big. Its hands were raised like claws. It looked like a monster.

Jaxon spun around.

No one was there.

He looked at the ground again — the shadow was still there, moving slightly, like it was breathing.

Then he heard a whisper.

"Come inside…"

Jaxon stepped back. “No way,” he muttered. He turned and ran back home, his feet barely touching the ground.

That night, he couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about that door, that voice, that shadow. What was it? Was it trying to scare him? Or was it... asking for help?

The next day, he told his friend Maya about it at school.

"That house?" Maya said. "My grandma says it used to belong to a toy maker. He made puppets and dolls. Some say his last doll was cursed. After he disappeared, no one ever went inside again."

Jaxon felt a chill run down his spine.

“But what if someone’s still in there?” he asked.

Maya frowned. “Then maybe they want to be found.”

That night, Jaxon returned. He brought a flashlight, a walkie-talkie, and Maya, who was braver than most kids he knew.

Together, they stood on the porch. The door was closed this time. Jaxon reached out and knocked.

No answer.

He pushed the door gently. It creaked open, revealing a hallway filled with dust and cobwebs. Dolls lined the shelves. Some smiled. Others stared blankly. One had its head turned completely backward.

"This place gives me the creeps," Maya whispered.

Then they heard it again — the whisper.

"Help me…"

It was coming from upstairs.

They climbed the staircase slowly, each step creaking under their feet. At the end of the hallway was a door, glowing faintly.

Inside, they found a room filled with drawings, toys, and in the center — a chair with a doll sitting in it. But this doll was different. It had human eyes. And it was crying.

“Who are you?” Jaxon asked.

“I was the toy maker’s son,” the doll replied, its voice weak and small. “He turned me into this when he tried to bring his creations to life. But something went wrong. He vanished. And I’ve been stuck ever since.”

Maya stepped forward. “How can we help?”

“There’s a key,” the doll said. “Behind the mirror. Use it on the red box under the bed. It can break the curse.”

They did exactly as told. The red box was old and dusty, but inside was a glowing crystal key. When they touched it to the doll, a burst of light filled the room.

When the light faded, the doll was gone — and in its place was a boy, about their age, sitting on the floor, blinking in confusion.

"Thank you," he whispered.

From that day on, the house next door wasn’t dark anymore. The dolls were gone. The red window no longer glowed. And a new family moved in — one with a boy who smiled a lot and never, ever forgot what it was like to be lost in a shadow.

And Jaxon? He kept his flashlight and walkie-talkie close. Just in case the next door had a secret too.