Heather Miller just needed a little get away from the train wreck that her life had become recently, so she took a job as a nanny. She had no idea what exactly she was in for when she arrived at Heelshire Manor and met little Brahms Heelshire.
Heather awoke a few hours later in bed alone with no sign of the Brahms doll, and someone was screaming her name, "Heather! Heather! Get in here!" She jumped out of bed and raced down the hall.
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"Heather!" Blake yelled again.
"Blake, what happened?" She asked as soon as she got there.
Blake came over and grabbed her arm, "Get in here" he yanked her into the room, "Right now. What is this?"
Heather looked up and stared in shock. There on the wall, written in blood, 'Get Out', and in his bag of clothes sat four dead, bloody rats.
"Was this you?" Blake asked her again shaking her.
She shook her head, "I-I didn't do that."
"Don't play games with me!" he yelled at her, "How can this not be you? No one else is in this damn house!"
Heather shook her head only to stop short when she saw something in the corner of her eye. There sitting in one of the chairs, was the Brahms doll, "Brahms." She whispered.
"The doll?" He asked angrily as Heather moved to grab it, "The doll wrote this? Don't pull this shit on me, Heather." He followed her around the table.
Heather picked the doll up and held him closely as she turned back to face Blake, "Okay, fine, it wasn't you." He reached his hand out, "It was the doll. Give it to me."
She started backing up away from him, "Give me the doll."
Heather shook her head, "No."
"Give me the doll, Heather! Hand him over!" He shouted as she tried to run from him.
Blake grabbed her arm and tried to pull her back, but she struggled to get away from him.
"No, no, get off of me!" She cried as she slipped out of his grip and ran into the parlor, "It was me, okay! You were right, it was me. I did it. I want you to go!"
Blake shook his head, "No, It's too late. Now, give me the doll."
"No." She whimpered as he tried to snatch it from her, "Blake, Stop!"
"Heather!" Malcolm called out for her as he ran into the house.
"Now! I'm not joking around!" He grabbed the doll and knocked Heather to the ground in the process of pulling the doll from her grasp.
Heather hit her head against an end table on her way down and spit it open a bit.
"Hey, get your things and get out of here!" Malcolm told him as he entered the room.
"You know, everyone just seems to be in a big hurry for me to leave." Blake sneered as he looked between the two.
"You alright?" Malcolm asked her as she pulled herself up off the floor, but frowned when he noticed the cut on her head and the trickle of blood running down the side of her face.
