The Cowardly Baby Saint Can See Ghosts [Novel] Chapter 6

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Episode 6.

My eyes burned with the threat of sudden tears. Trapped in this five-year-old body, my emotional pendulum swung far more violently than I was used to.

It felt as though my very capacity for 'fear' had been fully awakened the moment I became a Saintess and started seeing the unseen.

"Haaah……."

I buried my face in my knees, furiously scrubbing at my eyes.

I had genuinely thought my life was taking a turn for the luxurious when they crowned me the Saintess. Instead, here I was, playing a cursed game of tag with a ghost in the middle of the night.

Gagging slightly at the pungent stench of rotting garbage wafting from the nearby bin, I clamped a hand over my nose and held my breath.

No matter how adorable the bunny doll was, or the fact that it was only armed with a flimsy paper knife, I couldn't afford to drop my guard.

I strained my ears toward the empty street, keeping as still as a statue, focusing every ounce of my attention on the slightest sign of movement.

For a long moment, the night was dead silent, save for the rhythmic chirping of crickets.

At the distinct sound of something small dragging its feet against the cobblestones, I slapped both hands over my mouth.

Even the faint rustling of my own dress in the breeze set my nerves on edge.

Gradually, a tiny shadow rippled across the moonlit path, and 'it' finally revealed itself.

The long, white, cotton-stuffed ears attached to its round head twitched erratically. Because it was a brand-new toy bought only a day ago, its joints were stiff and overstuffed. The resulting waddling, side-to-side silhouette instantly commanded my attention.

The doll was struggling immensely just to take a single step, dragging a paper knife that was as big as its entire body across the rough road.

"Pfft…… Puh!"

I bit down hard on my lower lip, desperately trying to stifle the inappropriate giggle that bubbled up in my throat.

It looked utterly exhausted from trekking all this way on legs that were barely a handspan long.

For a fleeting moment, I felt a twinge of genuine pity—like watching a haggard office worker trudging through a grueling midnight commute. But that sympathy evaporated the second the doll snapped its head up, as if sensing my presence.

It whipped its head left and right, scanning the area before returning to its ridiculous, trudging march with the dragged paper knife.

My logic had been flawless. If the ghost had been dragging a real butcher knife or a rusty axe, the genre of this night would have drastically shifted into pure horror. Furthermore, it seemed to have stepped in a puddle along the way, because the bottom half of the paper blade was soggy and peeling apart.

Perhaps I had exhaled my relief a bit too loudly.

One of its drooping, soggy ears suddenly perked straight up.

"……!"

"Found, you."

Instead of its usual guttural "Urrgh", it was actually speaking distinct human words! Had it only been incapable of speech earlier because it lacked a physical vessel?

Wait, if it could talk through the doll, there was no need to play this terrifying game of hide-and-seek! We could just have a conversation!

I forced my rapidly spinning thoughts to a halt.

I had been found. It was time to run.

However, shattering its previous sluggish pace, the doll suddenly launched itself toward me… terrifyingly fast.

Wait, was it crawling?!

It was! To prevent the fingernails and hair from spilling out of its slit belly, the doll had flipped over and was scuttling backward like a demented crab! With the soggy paper knife clamped firmly in its sewn mouth, it moved with the bizarre, frantic speed of a spider.

"A-aaaaack!"

This time, I couldn't swallow my scream. Pure, unadulterated shock ripped through me.

"What the heck is that thing?!"

"Shhtahpp riiiight theere! (Stop right there!)" the doll garbled around the paper knife.

"Would you stop if you were me?!" I shrieked back.

Sprinting with all the might my short legs could muster, I risked a frantic glance over my shoulder.

The doll would scuttle forward at breakneck speed, freeze to catch its breath, and then resume its terrifying crab-walk.

Then, abruptly, it just plopped down onto the cobblestones, utterly defeated.

Its small, plush body heaved up and down as if it were panting for air.

My blinding terror gave way to sudden curiosity.

Wouldn't it be far more beneficial to just let myself get tagged, end this ridiculous game, and finally wrap up this tiresome haunting?

Mind made up, I turned around and cautiously approached the collapsed toy. Bathed in the pale moonlight, the bunny doll looked incredibly pathetic. For that brief moment, the terrifying specter vanished from my mind, leaving behind nothing but a cute, overworked stuffed animal.

"Hey."

"……."

"Are you okay?"

As if it had been baiting me for this exact moment, the doll suddenly whipped the paper knife up at incredible speed and thrust it directly into my shin.

"Ahaha, that tickles!"

I giggled, casually scratching at my shin where the crumpled paper had completely folded in on itself.

"……."

The doll remained dead silent. It stared down at its bent, useless paper weapon, looking entirely traumatized by the lack of damage.

Just then, a glowing system window materialized in thin air, accompanied by the festive sound of clapping.

"Ah."

It bolted.

With those tiny, frantic legs.

I stood frozen in amusement, watching the doll scurry away in a blind panic. Its waddling, desperate retreat was so inherently ridiculous that a burst of genuine laughter tore from my throat.

The realization hit me out of nowhere. Here I was, completely alone in a strange world without a single friend, cackling wildly at a ghost-possessed bunny doll.

I smacked my lips, the laughter fading as I stared blankly into the empty street.

A sudden chill swept over my arms, only to dissipate into the muggy night air a second later.

Rubbing the goosebumps from my arms, I glanced at the hovering timer. Three seconds had already passed.

I pivoted on my heel. Clutched firmly in my hand was the crumpled paper knife the doll had abandoned in its frantic escape.

"Let's see how you like being chased."

It was time to make her pay for the sheer amount of stress she had put me through tonight.

---

It was gone. No matter how thoroughly I scoured the area, I couldn't find a single trace of it.

"In that short amount of time," I wheezed, clutching my side, "it couldn't have gone far!"

I made a mental note to start exercising. My five-year-old stamina was atrocious.

Left with no other choice, I slowed to a cautious walk, scanning the desolate surroundings. The street was blanketed in a monochromatic, heavy gloom, making the very air feel oppressive.

Oooo~

An eerie, hollow wail drifted from the shadows, sending a violent shudder down my spine. My bravado instantly evaporated. Clutching my pounding heart, I began to check every dark corner.

Above me, the wind whipped through the canopy, grinding dry branches and leaves together.

There were only a handful of buildings in the direction the doll had fled, save for one distinct gap in the architecture.

I carefully crept down the narrow passage. It spat me out in front of a dense, unkempt patch of woods at the edge of the Temple grounds.

It was the quintessential 'do not enter' forest—the kind of ominous threshold where anyone with half a brain knew something terrible was waiting inside.

"Maybe she hid somewhere else," I muttered, taking a hesitant step back.

Thanks for the confirmation kill on my hopes.

Tears welling in my eyes once more, I forced my trembling legs to step into the tree line. The deafening crunch beneath my shoes instantly grated on my frayed nerves.

The pile was suspiciously deep, mounded in a way that looked perfectly designed to conceal something buried underneath.

A bone-deep chill paralyzed me. I slowly rolled my eyes forward.

The bunny doll, which had been completely missing just a moment ago, was now standing dead center on the pile of leaves, staring silently up at me.

My hand shook violently as I pointed the crumpled paper knife at its button eyes.

"I'm going to stab you."

"……."

"I'm really going to do it. I warned you!"

I didn't move. Every primal instinct in my body screamed at me to stay away from that doll. The air around it was unnaturally thick, suffocating and foul.

But as if possessed by an invisible puppeteer, my feet moved on their own.

I walked directly up to the unmoving doll. It felt as though this exact spot had been the ghost's destination all along; she had deliberately guided me here.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice cracking as I stared down at the toy that refused to break eye contact. "What is this?"

Poking through a small gap in the thick, rotting foliage was a hand.

It was a human hand, the skin mottled and discolored with a sickly, bruised purplish-black hue.

I blinked hard, desperate to prove my eyes were playing tricks on me.

But they weren't. What was jutting out from under the damp earth and dead leaves was undeniably human.

Of all the places in the Temple to hide, the doll had led me directly to a shallow, makeshift grave.

"Ha."

The breath punched out of my lungs, and I stumbled a step backward.

It was then.

Something round and heavy, like a translucent pearl, struck the dirt.

The doll was crying.

"……!"

Alright, let's do this.

I gritted my teeth, locking my jaw so hard it ached. Despite the suffocating wave of terror threatening to drown me, I grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground. Panting heavily through my nose, I began to slowly, methodically scrape the layers of leaves away.

Yes, the ghost was terrifying, but this was the first time in either of my lives that I was staring at an actual, physical corpse from mere inches away.

Verging on a full-blown panic attack, my hands shook so violently I could barely grip the wood. I forced a deep, shuddering breath into my lungs.

As the branch swept away the heavy debris, the exposed hand gave way to a stiff arm, clad in the torn, muddy hem of a high-quality silk dress.

The body was still in the early stages of decomposition, entirely intact and easily identifiable.

Urp. A surge of bile clawed up my throat, but I forced it back down.

Just then, a quiet sound caught my attention.

"……Don't cry."

Fat, heavy teardrops were continuously welling up from the doll's purple button eyes, soaking its white fur.

What must she be thinking, standing over her own discarded corpse?

"Don't cry," I whispered, my voice remarkably steady despite the horror. "I'll take care of you properly."

The illusion of the creepy toy shattered completely. Looking at the sobbing doll, all I could see was the beautiful, tragic woman from the carriage.

"I'll somehow—"

The branch snagged on a clump of dirt. As I pulled, hair tangled with mud crunched and dragged out like a heavy skein of yarn.

My vision blurred with fresh tears. Abandoning the branch, my bare hands plunged into the dirt, frantically brushing the soil away from her face with desperate urgency.

"……I'll take care of it somehow……."

The memory of her in the carriage flashed behind my eyelids. The woman who had stared so intently at Liam in his gleaming white armor. She had been an elegant, dignified noble lady, seated with perfect, practiced grace.

Instead of this matted, filthy nest of hair, I remembered the way her long, shimmering brown locks had beautifully framed her face.

Now, her face was a tragedy. Capillaries had burst under her skin, leaving her complexion a mottled, horrifying mess. The flesh was ice-cold and rigid beneath my trembling fingertips.

As I cleared the dirt from her throat, my fingers caught on a shred of torn lace.

"So……."

My hand froze midair. I possessed absolutely no medical knowledge, but I didn't need any to recognize the brutal, dark bruising circling her windpipe.

"……."

She had been murdered.

Strangled to death.

By whom?

Was this the resentment I had been tasked with resolving?

How was a five-year-old supposed to do that?

"……Who is it?"

Ignoring the hot tears freely streaming down my own cheeks, I looked directly into the doll's weeping button eyes.

"Who killed you?"

Read this series only at: violetscans.org