It had been two weeks since the “Kanti incident.”
Aziz’s house was peaceful again. Too peaceful. His four cats had become clingy. Ruby slept on Aziz’s chest every night. Snow refused to leave his feet. Charcoal and Ace stood guard in front of the door like security guards.
Aziz wrote a new rule on the door with a marker: • “NO CAT BOARDING AFTER SUNSET” •
Then, on Thursday, a chat suddenly came in at midnight.
It was 11:23 p.m. Aziz’s phone rang. An unknown number.
_“Mr. Aziz? I’m Rina. I heard about you from Mrs. Titi. Can I leave my cat with you tomorrow? It’s an emergency. Just for one night.”_
Aziz typed: _“Sorry, I’m closed after sunset.”_ A reply came one minute later: _“Please, Mr. Aziz. My cat is sick. There’s no one to watch her. I’ll pay 500,000 rupiah.”_
Five hundred thousand rupiah. That was enough to eat for a month. Aziz looked at his four cats, curled up in a circle on the bed. Ruby stared at him. As if she understood.
_“All right. Tomorrow at seven in the morning, okay? In front of the house,”_ Aziz sent.
He didn’t see the last reply: _“Thanks, Mr. Aziz. We’re on our way now.”_
We. There was something terrifying about the word “we” in that message.
At ten past midnight, the sound of a motorcycle stopping in front of the house reached him. _Vroom... cut off._ Then silence.
Aziz peeked out the window. There was no one there. Only a wooden box on the porch. It was about fifty by fifty centimeters, with tiny air holes.
A note sat on top of the box: _FOR MR. AZIZ. FROM RINA._
Aziz slowly opened the door. The night air smelled fishy. He lifted the box. It was heavy. From inside came a sound... _grrk... grrk..._ It wasn’t a cat. It sounded more like someone holding their breath.
His four cats immediately ran and hid under the table. Ruby hissed.
Aziz didn’t dare open it. He put the box in the back room—the same room whose window he had opened two weeks ago to “drive Tina out.”
“Tomorrow morning,” he whispered.
He didn’t sleep that night. At exactly two in the morning, a sound came from the back room. _Bump... bump... bump..._ As if something inside the box was hitting the walls.
Then came a girl’s voice. Soft. Singing. _Lalala... Aziz... play with me..._
The voice sounded like Tina’s. But older.
At seven in the morning, a young woman knocked on the door. She looked to be in her twenties. Her hair was tied back. Her eyes were swollen. “Mr. Aziz? I’m Rina,” the woman said. Aziz looked at her. “Oh, right. Where’s the cat?” he asked, not seeming to realize that Rina hadn’t brought a cat. Rina pointed to the back room. “There. In the box. Her name is Kiko.”
Aziz opened the door to the back room. The box was still there. He opened the lid.
There was no cat inside. It was a large white Angora cat doll, as tall as a five-year-old child. Its eyes were black buttons. Its fur was tangled, with brown stains that looked like dried blood.
Rina smiled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Aziz. Kiko is my little sister’s favorite doll. My sister... is gone now. I couldn’t bear to leave her alone. Could you watch her for one night?”
Aziz wanted to refuse. But Rina had already started crying. “I’ll transfer the 500,000 rupiah right now. Please, Mr. Aziz.”
The transfer came through. 500,000. Aziz couldn’t refuse anymore.
Rina hurried away. Before she left, she whispered, “Don’t let Kiko be alone, okay, Mr. Aziz? She’s afraid of the dark.”
The afternoon passed safely. Aziz sat the doll in a chair. None of his four cats would go near it. They slept on top of the refrigerator.
At six in the evening, Aziz took a picture of Kiko to send to Rina as proof that she was safe. When he checked his gallery, there were three pictures he hadn’t taken. Photo 1: Kiko sitting on the floor of the back room. Photo 2: Kiko standing in front of Aziz’s bedroom door. Photo 3: A close-up. Kiko was behind Aziz... while he was sleeping.
Even though Aziz had been holding his phone the whole time.
Aziz’s hands were cold and trembling. He was terrified and deeply uneasy.