High school is a turbulent time for a lot of
us, to say the least. Subjects are a lot harder, classes feel longer, and because you’re older
there can be so much more pressure put on you by your teachers and parents alike. There’s
a lot more onus for you to perform well in tests and make sure that you get high grades,
thanks to everyone around you telling you that these are ‘the most important years of your
life’ or that your high school experience will ‘determine your whole future for good
or bad’. Actually, come to think of it, ‘pressure’ feels like a bit of an understatement.
As if there weren’t already enough things to worry about when you’re trying to make your way
through high school, the changes to yourself get thrown into the mix as well. Growing up and
getting older often means developing a further, previously unseen level of self-awareness
and understanding of who you are as a person; that can be true of any part of life, but high
school can often be the first time we’re aware of ourselves in such a heightened way.
Usually, everything we’re experiencing during that time can make some of us
self-conscious, shying away from others to avoid embarrassment or becoming brash
and loud to over-compensate for just how uncertain they might be feeling deep down.
Then, of course, on top of that already huge mountain, romantic feelings get thrown into the
mix as well. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, high school romances are usually just tiny,
almost insignificant footnotes in the stories of our lives. But obviously, they don’t feel
like it at the time. When you’re right there, living through that part of your life without
the benefit of hindsight that comes later, your high school crush can feel like
the very center of the entire universe. Being introduced to and surrounded by more
people than ever, more than any previous stage of schooling, means that romantic feelings usually
have a higher likelihood of developing, and are made more prominent by the whole other whirlwind
of things that high school brings with it. Case in point, Elly was having this exact problem.
For as long as she could remember, she had never really got people. They were confusing,
complicated, and completely unpredictable. Usually, they frustrated Elly, which made it
hard for her to talk to most of her classmates, especially if she didn’t already know them that
well. The common ground could sometimes make it a little easier, it helped break the ice, but
finding those shared interests or similarities was often harder than just spending time on her own.
Then, along came Markus, or ‘Marky’ as Elly heard he preferred to be called. On the first day of the
semester, she had been placed in a new math class. The second Marky came walking through
the door, she immediately found herself unable to keep her eyes off him; especially
because he ended up taking the seat directly in front of hers, meaning he was always filling up
most of her view when she looked straight ahead. Despite looking like a skater type, from what
Elly observed, Marky was pretty sharp. She was no slouch herself, usually noting down correct
answers a few moments before whoever the teacher called on. Whenever Marky was called on, he also
had the exact right solution to whatever problem or equation the rest of the class was probably
still struggling to keep up with. Despite knowing very little about him, Elly couldn’t help
feeling a certain new and unfamiliar way towards this particular classmate. It was like they were
both operating at the same speed, on identical wavelengths, if only she knew more about him.
And it was during class that Elly had an idea about how she could get to know
him better, but without the awkward, uncomfortable interactions that came from
slipping about on the ice rather than breaking it. She could use the doll. Sure, she had been mulling
it over, toying with the possibility for a while, but wasn’t certain that it was right
for her to follow that course of action. But as the days turned into weeks, getting deeper
and deeper into the semester brought with it the possibility that another girl would catch Marky’s
attention the way he’d caught Elly’s. Just the thought of that alone made her want to cry,
she couldn’t bear to see it become a reality. One day in class, her chance presented
itself, on what had been an unusually hot day. The scorching heat outdoors was causing
all the students to groan in discomfort, barely able to acknowledge anything other
than the high temperature. Meanwhile, all the teachers could possibly do was open up
the windows to counteract the relentless weather, but it was nothing more than a futile gesture.
Sitting down in front of Elly, Marky shrugged off the denim jacket he always wore, leaving
it hanging over the back of his chair. Her eyes honed in on what she needed. Clinging to the
surface of the acid-washed material was a single strand of black hair. She knew she had to pick her
moment carefully. If the teacher, or any of the other students in the class – or, worst of all,
Marky himself – saw what she was doing, it would look beyond weird. Leaning forward on her desk as
subtly as she could, Elly slowly reached forward. Her fingers wouldn’t reach, the back of Marky’s
chair was just an inch or two further than her arms extended. Elly felt her heart stop for a
split second as her crush moved in his chair, the shift causing the jacket to move
and the strand of his hair dropped, almost falling out of sight. Sighing with relief
as silently as she could, when she saw the black streak managed to stay attached to the denim,
Elly fished a pen out from inside her pencil case. Leaning forward again, she delicately
lifted the pointed tip of her pen, hooking the hair on it. Pulling it back towards
her before anyone saw, she covered it with her hand, both to hide what she had done and to stop
the precious hair from being caught by the warm, humid breeze pouring through the open windows.
Gently, Elly placed the one missing component she needed into a clean tissue, which she then
folded four times and kept in her jacket, constantly checking throughout the day to make
sure it was still there. On more than one of those quick spot checks, Elly felt her heart
plummet downwards for a second when she couldn’t immediately feel the tissue in her pocket, only to
calm down a second later to realize it was still there, with its precious contents too. The rest
of the day she felt tense, drumming her fingers together in impatience, every hour feeling like
it would go on forever. It was just a case of waiting out the day, until that final bell rung.
The moment she was able, she rushed away from the school, walking home as quickly as she
possibly could, one hand in her pocket to keep the hair secure. Elly was lucky enough –
or unlucky depending on your view – to live in the same town as her school, and not too
far away to need the bus. She could make her way there on foot in pretty decent time.
Normally, the busses from the school would pass her as she walked. Looking up, she saw one of
the huge yellow vehicles driving down the street, and a familiar face sat at a window seat:
Marky. Seeing him, Elly quickened her pace, speed-walking home. The moment she unlocked
the front door and closed it behind her, she threw off her backpack and raced upstairs to
her bedroom. She knew exactly where she’d left it. As she flipped on her lamp, it was laying there
on the desk ready for her: the Knotty Stalker. The tiny doll was made of one single knitted
string, with a pair of shiny onyx beads against the red of its face, in the place of eyes. Elly
had come across the little oddity in a box of her grandmother’s things. Although she never
knew her all that well, after she had died, Elly’s mom had gone to clear her house up, and
came back with a few boxes full of keepsakes. “These are all your grandma’s things I
couldn’t sell, or think of what to do with,” her mother explained, offering her the cardboard
box. “If you can pick out anything that you like, it’s yours, El. I’m sure grandma won’t mind.”
Looking inside, there wasn’t much save for a few old clothes, knick-knacks, souvenirs, and trinkets
that were mostly all broken, or the odd piece of jewelry that looked too worn out and rusted
to wear. But right at the bottom was the doll. It was wrapped up in a crumpled piece of paper
that might have been clear white at some point, but had changed shades with age. Unfolding it,
Elly read the message inscribed on one side: “Congratulations on your purchase of a
genuine Knotty Stalker! Do you love someone, but they won't give you the time of day? Do
you wish you could hear what they say about you behind their back? Well, wonder no more!
Using this fantabulous product, you can keep track of your loved ones' every move, their every
word! All you have to do is get a single hair from the head of the object of your desires, slip
it under a loose string on our Knotty Stalker, and see what you're missing! Another wonderful
product brought to you by The Factory.” Now, that same crumpled note was in Elly’s hands;
her eyes scanning over the instructions a final time to make sure she knew exactly what to do.
She didn’t much care for the name of it though; ‘Knotty Stalker’, the latter word had a very
negative connotation. What she was doing here wasn’t stalking, Elly told herself, she just
wanted an easier way to learn about Marky. Surely, there wasn’t anything wrong with that
Pulling the tissue from her pocket, she carefully lay it flat on the desk and unfolded
it. The hair was still there, secured between the thin folded paper. Delicately holding it
between her finger and thumb, Elly held the dark strand of Marky’s hair in the light of her
desk lamp. She treated it as gently as she could, making sure not to break the hair, worried
that the doll might not work if it snapped. Taking great care, she slipped it through one
of the loops in the Knotty Stalker’s string. For a moment, nothing happened, the doll just
lay there on the wooden surface of the desk. It was completely still, not showing
even the slightest hint of any change. Feeling the worry building more and more, her
heart drumming against her chest so loud that she could practically hear it, Elly started
frantically looking back over the instructions, in case she had somehow missed a step. She had no
idea what was meant to happen, or even what she’d been expecting, but she was starting to think
that this doll might just be an oddity from an old toy store that marketed them to children by
promising things that weren’t actually possible. “See you later guys!” a tiny voice came from the
desk, causing Elly’s heart to lurch in shock. The doll was standing upright on the
wooden surface; only seconds before, it had been lying flat on its back. As if by its
own accord, the little knitted figure was upright, like it was a living thing. And it wasn’t just
standing, its arm was waving, and its chest was even gently undulating to mimic the motion
of breathing. The Knotty Stalker kept waving a moment, only to drop its head forward and make
an exhaling motion that seemed to be a sigh. “I really wish they wouldn’t keep calling
me Marky,” the same voice spoke up again, this time more clearly coming from the doll.
Elly watched it closer, transfixed with utter fascination. She was aware of the concept of a
voodoo doll, a mystical charm that contained a person’s hair affixed to a crude figure in
order to influence them through magic. This doll seemed much the same, except it was
mimicking Marky’s – Markus’ – every move. Elly had overheard him talking to some of
his friends in the corridors at school once, talking about home.
He lived in the next town over, and the bus must have only just arrived there
because now the doll was walking on the spot, the same heavy-limbed, tired walk home after a
long, strenuous day at school. She recognized the walk; it was the same one she did when
she made her own way back to her mom’s house. For the rest of the night, Elly didn’t
take her eyes off the Knotty Stalker, watching as it streamed Markus’ actions to her
live. She watched in real-time as he arrived home, sat and did his homework, and went back
downstairs to eat dinner; all the while Elly was neglecting to do those same things herself.
At one point in the night, the doll started dancing around, singing into something invisible
in its hand. It made Elly smile uncontrollably to watch, she had figured out that Markus
was now playing some music through a pair of headphones or a speaker, and singing along into
a hairbrush, dancing like no one was watching, the kind of thing that almost everyone does
when they’re alone but never admits to. Turning to her computer, keeping one eye on
the doll, refusing to stop watching it even in her peripheral vision, Elly typed the lyrics
it was singing into a search engine. Immediately, pages worth of results came up for the song and
the band that had sung it; they weren’t a group that she’d ever heard of or listened to before,
but it was Friday. She had all weekend. Using her mom’s bank card, Elly ordered herself a t-shirt
with the band’s name on it, premium delivery meant it would be there before school next week.
On Monday, she showed up at school wearing the new shirt. It was a few sizes too big, but that
meant that the band’s logo printed on the front was bigger, and harder to miss. Elly had spent
almost her whole weekend watching the doll as it mimicked Markus’ movements. He hadn’t done much
but play video games and go to the skatepark, but she made sure she knew what he was doing.
Any time she wasn’t watching, she was listening to the music he liked, getting familiar with it
to prepare herself for what was about to happen, as if she had been studying to get ready for a
test. Somehow, striding through the corridors full of students milling about first thing in
the morning, Elly felt more confident than ever. “Hey, Markus,” she greeted, spotting her
crush rummaging around in his locker, and walking straight up to him.
“Hey, uh,” he paused, looking over at her for what felt like the first time. “You’re,
um… sorry, we have class together right?” “Math, yeah!” she replied, surprising
herself at how quickly she’d recovered from the blow that he didn’t know her
name. “I’m Elly, I sit right behind you.” “Right, right!” Markus smiled, “You
don’t have to use my full name, everyone just calls me ‘Marky’ around here.”
“But you don’t like that nickname, I can tell,” Elly shot him a smile, trying
to play do her best ‘mysterious’ voice. “How can you tell?” he asked.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she leaned forward and whispered, “But I’m kinda psychic.”
They both laughed, and Elly caught Markus’ eyes reading the band name on her shirt.
“Hey, I had no idea you were a Parallel Lunatics fan,” he remarked. “That’s my favorite band!”
“Well, I just started listening to them,” Elly replied. “Maybe you could
recommend me some more of their albums?” Suddenly, the school bell sounded, interrupting
their conversation with the reminder that the day had to start. Waving goodbye and heading to
class, Elly was unable to stop herself from smiling now that her way in had worked. For the
rest of the week, she kept relying on the doll; every moment she wasn’t in class,
she was holding it to her ear, listening to Markus’ half of every conversation.
The more she did, the more she learned about him; what music he liked, where he was thinking of
going to college, and what he wanted to study there. Every time she passed him in the hallway,
she’d give him a smile and a wave, just to remind him that she was there. It was a long game,
but she hoped it would end the way she wanted. Nine days had passed since she had started using
the doll, and that’s when it started to become somewhat unreliable. Over the weekend, it had
been moving as though Markus was at the skatepark again. But when Elly approached him to ask how
his weekend was and if he’d enjoyed going skating, he looked at her with confusion. Markus said he’d
been visiting his dad that weekend and didn’t have time to go anywhere near the skatepark.
But that one inaccuracy was nothing compared to what she heard the doll say next. Still
using it to listen in on Markus’ conversations, the Knotty Stalker had started relaying words that
made her heart shatter into a thousand fragments. She overheard him talking to a friend
about her, saying horrible things like how he thought she was weird and that she had
clearly listened to Parallel Lunatics just to get his attention. Worst of all was when
Elly heard Markus say, through the doll, that he would never want to date a girl like her.
She was heartbroken, tears streaming down her face as she hid in a toilet cubicle during lunch
break. Sniffling, wiping her eyes in her baggy band t-shirt, Elly felt her sadness turning into
a wave of rising anger. Throwing the door open, she marched out of the bathroom and
started searching the school for Markus. “How could you say those things about me?” she
yelled furiously when she found him sitting on a window ledge halfway up a stairwell.
“Huh?” he mumbled, lifting up his headphones, instantly noticing that she seemed
upset. “Hey, Elly, are you okay?” “You’re a jerk!” she screamed, almost
choking on sobs that threatened to come bursting out in floods of tears. “Why
were you saying horrible stuff about me?” “What are you talking about?” Markus
asked, his face looking utterly confused. “Don’t play dumb! You said you thought I was
weird, that you’d never date someone like me!” “Whoa, Elly, I don’t know who told
you that, but that’s not true! I mean, I don’t know you all that well, but I’d
never say anything like-” he tried to reply. “Liar!” she cut him off with another yell.
“I heard you, I was listening to every word!” “What do you mean you were listening?” the
confusion on Markus’ face quickly turned to concern; in his mind, he was quickly putting two
and two together, the band shirt, the questions about the skatepark. “Have you been following me?”
Instantly, Elly felt her stomach flip, her anger partly dissipating and replaced with fear.
“No, no, it’s not like that!” she said, trying to ease his look of obvious alarm. “I just
wanted to know more about you, and now I do!” “What the hell does that mean?” Markus
asked, sounding almost frightened. “I know everything about you,” Elly started
stepping closer, thinking if she went in for a hug that it might calm them both down. “I know all
your favorite music, what you like to do for fun. I wanted to know because I really like
you, but I didn’t know how to talk to you.” “Stay away from me!”
Instinctively, Markus’ arms reacted to her getting too close, pushing Elly backward. Behind her was
nothing but a sharp drop and a flight of concrete steps. With a scream, she tumbled backward, her
body barrelling down the stairs until her head hit the ground at the bottom of the last one,
giving a sickening crack as her neck broke. Teachers could barely hold back the students that
came crowding out, trying to get a better look as the paramedics came to take Elly away. As they
lifted her body onto a stretcher, nobody noticed something fall from her pocket. An unused Knotty
Stalker doll, a brand-new instance of SCP-693. Now go and check out “SCP-1562 THE
CARNIVOROUS SLIDE” and “SCP-137 A REAL TOY” if you want to know more about anomalies that
might seem like harmless fun and games at first, but can quickly become the stuff of
childhood nightmares if you aren’t careful!
