Chapter 1
Title: The Silent Secret of D.P.S No. 1
It was a quiet night on the 1st of July when the tragedy occurred. The students were oblivious to what was about to unfold, until they woke up to a chilling shock. The school had always been a place of pride, a fortress of learning for the wealthy and powerful, but that night, it became a site of sorrow.
A student, barely noticed by his peers, had taken the ultimate step—he jumped from the roof of the school. The morning news spread like wildfire. The whispers of his death soon reached every corner of the institution. In the face of this tragedy, the chairman, cold and calculating, quickly put an end to the matter, declaring it a suicide. His reasoning? The boy had been taking depression pills, a convenient explanation to close the case.
Yet, not everyone believed it. Some students quietly debated the truth, unsure of the real cause. The air was thick with suspicion, but the chairman's words echoed in their minds, and life carried on—until one year later.
New school year
The morning of the new school year arrived, and the gates of D.P.S No. 1 opened to welcome a new student. His appearance was far from what the other students expected. Dressed in simple, unbranded clothes, he walked through the school's grand entrance as if he belonged, yet something about him seemed out of place. Whispers spread through the crowd.
"Who is he?" one student asked.
"How did he get in? This school is only for the elite. The uniform alone costs a million!" another replied, eyes wide with disbelief.
Indeed, D.P.S No. 1 was a prestigious institution, known for its exorbitant fees and strict standards. It was a place where only the wealthy and influential could afford to study. So, who was this boy, and how had he gained access to such an exclusive institution?
The new student's name was Lumen, and he was about to make waves in a way no one could have predicted.
Lumen Entry
Lumen walked confidently into the chairman's office, his movements calm and deliberate. A few curious students sneaked peeks from the hallway, exchanging glances. "Why is the chairman giving him a uniform?" one whispered. "Who is this kid?"
Inside the office, the chairman looked at Lumen with an intensity that seemed to pierce through him. "Remember," he said quietly, "do not speak of that night—ever. What happened on 1st July stays between us."
Lumen nodded, understanding the gravity of the words. The chairman then handed him the school's official uniform, the symbol of power and privilege. But to Lumen, it wasn't just a uniform—it was a key to uncovering the mystery that had haunted the school for a year.
In a high school classroom, a group of students continuously bullies one of their classmates, and this behavior goes unchecked. The reason no one steps in is because one of the bullies is the child of the school owner, and the rest come from wealthy, influential families. Because of their status, even the teachers refuse to intervene. There was a time when some teachers tried to stand up against this injustice, but eventually, no one had the courage to take a stand for long. This situation reflects a society of privileged individuals who are self-centered, lacking empathy and dignity.
One day, Lumen walked into the classroom and saw everything unfolding. He quickly took it all in.
A few minutes later, the room fell quiet as the teacher entered. She introduced a new student to the class.
"Lumen, why don't you introduce yourself?" she asked.
Lumen stood up, his voice steady. "Hi, I'm Lumen, and I'm the new student here."
The teacher nodded. "Alright, Lumen, take your seat. Last desk on the right."
Lumen sat down, glancing at the desk partner next to him. It was Sky.
Sky sat in the quiet of his own mind, contemplating the bustling life of the school around him. This place, a symbol of order and discipline, had always stood as an unreachable dream for so many students. Every student he knew once dreamed of walking through its gates, where knowledge and excellence were said to thrive. Yet, here he was, staring at the truth, the reality that always had a way of slipping into the cracks of the ideal.
The grand walls, so meticulously painted, were now filled with whispers of unspoken tensions. The perfect corridors that once shined with the polish of ambition now echoed with footsteps that seemed to carry the weight of expectations too heavy to bear. The classrooms, once filled with the anticipation of learning, now had the scent of routine, the familiar tick of time moving a little too fast.
It wasn't as Sky had imagined. Every student, with their bright eyes and hopeful hearts, had painted their own version of success when they first dreamed of this place. But here, in the now, the dream was made of too many broken pieces, too many unsaid words between lessons and the unacknowledged burdens behind each smile.
In the hallways, students walked past him—some with their heads bent in thought, others in deep conversation. Each had their own version of the reality Sky had come to know all too well. The boy in the corner, gazing out the window, seemed lost in his own world of expectations. The girl at the lockers, trying to pull her books together with trembling hands, carried a load that no one could see but everyone could feel.
This wasn't the dream they all once thought it would be, and Sky could sense the weight of it in the air. It wasn't a place of ease or peace. It was a place that shaped them, but sometimes, it seemed more like a forge, turning dreams into something else entirely.
As the bell rang, signaling the start of the next class, Sky walked forward. No matter how imperfect, this place—this school—was where his story would unfold, with all its contradictions and complexities. There was no denying it: the dream, now shattered, was still the reality. And in this mix of shadows and light, he was determined to find his way.
Nori introduced
A few minutes later, the English teacher began the lesson promptly at 9:00 a.m. In the classroom, there were 19 students, but this was no ordinary class. It was notorious for its unruly behavior and lack of discipline. Among the students, four stood out for their aggressive and violent tendencies. William, Lery, Ally, and Smith were the troublemakers, often tormenting weaker or new students. However, it was William who held the reins, commanding the group with a silent but firm authority. His position as the head of the group was cemented by the fact that his father was the director of the school.
Nori, a kind-hearted student seated at the back of the room, was aware of the toxic dynamics and quietly observed everything. Nori's role as the class president's assistant gave him a certain sense of responsibility, and he had a reputation for being friendly and approachable. He leaned over and quietly introduced himself to Lumen, his new deskmate.
"Hello, I'm Nori Shaku, the assistant to the class president. Sky is our president," Nori said with a warm smile.
Sky, seated at the front of the class, glanced back over his shoulder, locking eyes with Nori for a brief moment. There was something unsettling in his gaze. His face was inscrutable, as though he preferred solitude over socializing, and his demeanor was distant, almost cold. His silent aura was enough to make Nori feel a chill, as if Sky's presence carried an air of mystery that no one dared to challenge.
As the teacher left the room, a tense silence fell over the class, only to be broken moments later by the unmistakable footsteps of William and his gang. They slowly made their way to Lumen's desk, their presence suffocating the space around him.
William, his tone dripping with condescension, leaned in closer to Lumen, a smug grin playing on his lips. "So, you're the new student. Our new toy, huh?" His words hung in the air, laced with malice.
When William's hand brushed against Lumen's, his touch was deliberate, almost possessive. Yet, to his surprise, Lumen didn't flinch. His expression remained eerily calm, as if the encounter meant nothing at all. The steady gaze Lumen held suggested a deeper strength, one that was unshaken by such petty displays.
In the quiet of his mind, Lumen's thoughts drifted back to a time—one year ago—when he had found himself in a similar confrontation. It was a flashback to a brutal fight with another boy. The face of his opponent was a blur, shrouded in memory, but Lumen knew the confrontation had been fierce. Despite the chaos, it was clear: Lumen was skilled. His every movement had been precise, calculated, a warrior's instinct at play. But the face of his opponent—someone who had once been a friend—remained hazy, leaving only the echo of the fight behind.
As the flashback faded, Lumen's attention snapped back to the present, but before he could respond, a figure stepped in between them. Sky. His gaze, sharp and focused, was locked on William and his group, his posture unyielding.
"Enough, William," Sky's voice was low, commanding, as though it could cut through the tension in the room. He moved in front of Lumen, effectively blocking any chance for further confrontation. His cold, almost unreadable face gave no hint as to why he had intervened, but his presence alone spoke volumes. The room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting what would happen next.
Lumen stood still, his mind racing, but he said nothing. He couldn't help but feel the weight of Sky's intervention, sensing that there was more to the enigmatic class president than met the eye.
Chapter 2
Next day in school
Lumen's frustration was evident as he shot a sharp glare at Sky. "Why did you involve yourself in my affairs? Don't do it again," he snapped, his voice tense. Sky, unruffled and composed, met his gaze with an icy calm. "As class president, it's my responsibility to maintain order. I can't allow any disruptions," he replied, his words cold and deliberate. "You should focus on helping those who can't stand up for themselves, but not me," he added, his tone distant, almost indifferent. Lumen, taken aback by the coldness in Sky's voice, fell silent, but the tension between them lingered in the air, thick and uncomfortable.
The following day, Nori entered the classroom with a stack of papers in her hands. He moved from desk to desk, distributing forms to each student. "These are for the upcoming school trip," he announced, his voice steady as she handed out the forms, making sure everyone received one. Sky, standing by the front of the room, prepared to address the class.
"Listen up," Sky said, his voice firm and authoritative, drawing the attention of every student in the room. "This trip is something you don't want to miss. You'll need to fill out these forms, have them signed by your parents, and deposit 5 million Youn within the next two weeks." A murmur of surprise rippled through the class. "Once the money is in, we'll head out next month. This trip is more than just a getaway—it's a group activity that will count toward your grades and earn you a bonus of 10 extra points."
When Sky finished speaking, the room fell into a buzz of conversation as the students began discussing the trip. William leaned toward his group, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "This trip is going to be so much fun," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "It's the perfect opportunity to mess with Lumen. He's always so uptight."
Meanwhile, Lumen sat silently at his desk, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The thought of coming up with 5 million Youn in such a short amount of time was overwhelming. His mind raced with anxiety, his stomach tightening at the thought of how he could possibly manage it. Every minute that passed only seemed to add more pressure, making the task feel increasingly impossible.
Two weeks later,
He finally arrived at school, just before the deadline for the trip submission. His appearance startled everyone—his clothes were torn and soiled, and his face bore marks of recent injuries, with fresh blood still dripping down. Despite the visible wounds, his condition didn't seem to be dire. He made his way to the front and immediately handed over the trip money.
The room fell silent, and all the students were taken aback by his appearance, except for Sky. William, not missing a beat, sneered at him, "Poor guy, how did you get that money? Let me guess, you won it in a gambling game or maybe you stole it from someone's purse?" His words were filled with disdain.
But Lumen didn't flinch. He remained calm, his voice steady as he replied, "Please, Nori, just submit my payment for the trip."
Nori, noticing the state Lumen was in, hesitated. "How did you end up like this?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice.
Lumen simply nodded towards the pile of money in Nori's hands. "Please," he repeated, "Just submit it for me."
Sky, who had been quietly observing the exchange, didn't seem shocked or surprised by Lumen's condition. He simply stood there, his gaze steady and unreadable, as he motioned for Lumen to complete the submission. Without a word, Sky added, "Go to your teacher's office after this and hand in everything."
No one knew what had truly happened to Lumen, but Sky seemed to understand more than he let on. The room remained quiet, each student left to wonder about the silent exchange between the two.
Trip day
It was the day of the much-awaited trip, and excitement filled the air. The Grade 9 students could hardly contain their joy as they gathered together, ready for an adventure. The teacher, standing at the front of the bus, gave a final set of instructions, her voice steady and clear. "Please listen carefully, everyone. Remember to follow the school rules at all times. Any violation will result in 20 points being deducted from your scorecard. I expect you to be responsible and respectful throughout the trip."
The bus hummed with anticipation as everyone settled in, eager for the journey to begin. Some students were more focused on the view outside the window, their eyes tracing the endless stretch of sky and rolling hills, while others tuned into their music, headphones securely in place. Sky, sitting near the front, couldn't help but notice Lumen, who seemed to be pretending to sleep. He had been talking to Nori, but when Nori stopped responding, Lumen had shifted to feign slumber. Sky, amused by the little act, smiled to himself, enjoying the peace that came from listening to his favorite songs while watching the world pass by outside.
The bus journey took them deep into the jungle, the trees towering and the air thick with mystery. After what felt like hours, the bus finally came to a halt. An elderly man, who introduced himself as Uncle, welcomed everyone with a warm smile as they stepped off the bus and into the wild surroundings. "Welcome, my young friends," he said, his voice welcoming yet with a hint of mischief. "Please, go ahead and settle into your tents. Freshen up, and once you're ready, we'll meet for lunch."
The students scattered to their designated tents, some voices filled with excitement, while others whispered nervously, unsure of what to expect. As they settled in, a few students couldn't hide their curiosity. "It looks like so much fun!" one exclaimed. "Or maybe it's a bit scary," another whispered, her eyes scanning the thick foliage around them.
Uncle's voice echoed once again, "After lunch, we'll be starting our night game. So, make sure you're prepared. The adventure is just beginning." The students, some more eager than others, hurried to get ready, each one unsure of what the night held, but all secretly hoping for an unforgettable experience.
Chapter 3 Game starts
In the stillness of the night, all the students gathered inside their tents, engrossed in heated discussions about the game. The atmosphere was thick with excitement and anticipation. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, a sound filled with agony and desperation. The students froze, their conversations abruptly silenced.
Without hesitation, they rushed toward the source of the sound, following it through the darkness. As they reached the clearing, their eyes fell upon a grisly sight: the lifeless body of a student, sprawled out in the dirt. It was Pond. His face was twisted in pain, his eyes wide open in an eternal expression of terror.
Some students stood in shock, unable to process the horror before them. Others stared at the body, their faces filled with suspicion and unease.
"Who did this?" Sky demanded, his voice tense with fear. "And why?"
Lumen, his face pale, spoke up, his voice trembling. "I think this is part of the game... Think about it carefully. Uncle always said the game starts at night."
His words sent a chill down their spines. "The game has already started," He continued, his voice steady despite the fear gripping his. "We need to be cautious. We can't move recklessly until we understand the rules of this deadly game."
But not everyone heeded her warning. Two students, driven by panic or perhaps defiance, bolted toward the jungle, their footsteps fading into the night. They didn't make it far. By the time the others reached the edge of the jungle, the two students were already dead, their bodies cold and lifeless.
As the grim reality of their situation set in, the remaining students were overcome with frustration and fear. "This is insane," William muttered, though his tone suggested a strange, twisted fascination. "This game… it's actually kind of fun."
Sky shot him a glare. "Fun? We're stuck in the middle of a nightmare, and you think it's fun?"
"We can't leave until we understand the game," Sky continued, his voice firm. "We're staying in the tents until we figure this out. No one leaves. Not until we know how this game works."
Nori, who had been silent up until then, stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror as he processed the death and chaos around his. The terror in her expression spoke volumes. Whatever this game was, it was far from over—and they were all trapped in its deadly grasp.
The group sat huddled together in the tent, the sight of the three bloodied bodies still fresh in their minds. Fear clung to the air like a thick fog, and their eyes darted nervously from one another, uncertain of what to say or do next.
One of the students, Matt, broke the silence, his voice shaking with panic. "Why are we trapped here? Why can't we just leave this game and go home safely?"
Nori's eyes narrowed, a dark shadow crossing his face as he looked at Matt. "None of us can leave. Not without finishing the game."
The words hung in the air, heavy with a sense of finality. There was a strange coldness in Nori's tone, an unspoken warning. He looked away for a moment, his gaze distant, as if caught in a memory that chilled him to the bone.
But then, something shifted. Nori's face seemed to soften, his expression faltering as he looked back at them, his voice now gentle, almost apologetic. "I—I didn't mean it like that. It's just... Lumen... Lumen told us about the others. Two students tried to run, to leave the game, but they didn't make it. They're dead."
His words hung in the air like a curse, and the group fell silent, the gravity of his admission sinking in.
Nori's words settled over them like a suffocating weight, plunging the group into an eerie silence. The tension thickened, the fear creeping into every corner of the tent. But as the minutes stretched on, a subtle shift in the air began to stir, whispers of doubt taking root among the students.
Sky, who had been unusually quiet until now, broke the silence, her voice low but laced with uncertainty. "I don't know... something about Lumen's words doesn't sit right with me. It's like... like he was trying to protect Nori when he said that. His tone... it sounded almost too defensive, as if he was covering something up."
Nori stiffened at her words, his heart racing. For a moment, he couldn't speak, as if her doubt had caught him off guard. His mind churned, racing through the conversation, piecing together Lumen's strange mannerisms, the way he had almost shielded him in his explanation. Was there more to the story than what they were being told? Had Lumen known something he hadn't shared?
A flicker of unease crossed Nori's face, and he looked away quickly, his thoughts spiraling. "I—" he started, but his voice faltered. It was as though Sky's words had shattered something fragile in his mind, and he couldn't quite piece it back together.
The air was thick with uncertainty now, and as the others exchanged wary glances, they realized that the game was far more treacherous than they had first thought. And somewhere, hidden in the shadows, was the truth—elusive and dangerous.
William called out, "Guys, let's head to our tent." Sky, however, turned to Lumen with a gentle but firm smile. "Lumen, come sleep in my tent tonight," she suggested, her voice carrying an unmistakable warmth.
Lumen hesitated, shaking his head. "I'm not coming with you."
Sky's expression softened, but his voice remained authoritative, yet laced with concern. "Don't argue with me. Let's go." It wasn't a request, but a statement filled with quiet determination.
One by one, the others made their way to their tents, but Nori lingered, his gaze distant as though lost in thought. A few minutes passed before he too retreated to his own tent.
Inside Sky's tent, Lumen seemed unusually tense. Sky, noticing his unease, sat beside him and spoke gently, "Don't worry, Lumen. We've got this. We're going to win this game." His words, a quiet reassurance, seemed to calm him slightly, though the worry never fully left his eyes. After a brief discussion about the game, the tension eased, and soon the two drifted off to sleep.
Meanwhile, in William's tent, the atmosphere was calm, almost unnervingly so. He lay back on his pillow, his face serene, a stark contrast to the anxiety that plagued the others. Lery, watching him closely, couldn't hold in his concern. "William," he said softly, "aren't you worried? We're trapped in this game. How do we get out?"
William didn't immediately answer. His gaze was distant, and when he spoke, it was with a quiet resignation. "Why should I worry? No one's waiting for me. My mom... she left me after I was born." He paused, the weight of those words lingering in the air. "And my dad..." His voice trailed off as sleep overtook him.
Lery stared at him for a moment, a sad understanding in his eyes. As he watched William fall into a peaceful slumber, Lery whispered to the darkness, "No one may be waiting for you, but I'll make sure you get home safely. I promise." With that, he too closed his eyes and drifted into the realm of sleep.
Chapter 4 Morning time
The morning air was heavy with an eerie stillness, broken only by the relentless vibration of mobile phones. One by one, the students emerged from their tents, confusion and unease etched across their faces. Every phone continued to buzz ceaselessly, the sound grating on their nerves. Some, overwhelmed by frustration, tried to silence the devices by smashing them against the ground, but the vibrations refused to stop.
Then, after a few agonizing minutes, a message appeared on their screens.
The Trident Game begins now.
A murmur rippled through the group. Sky, one of the students, narrowed his eyes at the message and muttered, "If the game didn't start last night, then what really happened to those students?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. The first victim Jennie had been found lifeless by the pond. Was it an accident, or was there something far more sinister at play?
"If this place is a restricted zone," another student whispered, "then how could he have ended up dead there?"
Silence followed until Sky spoke again. "If anyone knows something about what happened last night, now's the time to speak."
No one answered.
Another message arrived, spelling out the rules of the game. The students read in hushed horror—there were no rules. The only restriction was that no one could leave until the game was completed.
Lumen, his voice barely steady, read the final line aloud:
"The first game is built on trust. Among you is a liar—someone who deceives and has already killed once."
A cold shiver ran through the group. One of them was a murderer.
And the game had only just begun.
The game is already in motion. A silent dance of deception, where every step is a clue and every word a potential lie. Among those who stand before you, one is guilty. But the truth is not easily unraveled.
Each suspect carries a different mission, a purpose that sets them apart. Their paths do not cross by mere coincidence—fate has tangled them together in a web of intrigue. The clues you hold are like whispers in the dark, leading you through a maze where shadows shift and reality bends.
Some wear their innocence like a mask, others let their guilt slip through the cracks. But one among them hides the deepest secret, the final piece to this deadly puzzle.
Lery called it a game of trust—a challenge where they had to rely on one another, piece together the scattered clues, and unmask the true culprit to claim victory.
Born into wealth, Lery never let privilege shape his character. He was kind-hearted, always extending a helping hand to his classmates, though he preferred to do so from the shadows. Few knew the truth about his silent generosity, but those who did recognized the depth of his goodness.
The first clue arrived in an aged envelope, its edges worn and ink slightly smudged. The candidates gathered around, eyes flickering with curiosity and determination. They had exactly six hours to unravel the mystery.
As the paper unfolded, whispers spread like wildfire. Some read in silence, others exchanged urgent glances. And then—movement. A few students, catching on faster than the rest, bolted without a word. Their footsteps pounded against the forest floor, vanishing into the thick jungle beyond.
Leaves rustled, branches snapped under hurried steps. The deeper they ran, the more the air changed—charged with something electric, something unknown. The jungle swallowed them whole, its shadows twisting, its whispers growing louder.
Some students sat in thoughtful silence, their minds carefully turning over the discussion at hand. Around the tents , five small groups had formed, each consisting of three to four members. Some spoke in hushed tones, exchanging ideas, while others listened intently, lost in contemplation.
Chapter 5 clue
In the heart of the dense jungle, a group of students arrived, their eyes scanning the unfamiliar terrain. The thick canopy above cast eerie shadows, and the air was filled with the sounds of unseen creatures. As they ventured further, their attention was drawn to several large, mysterious boxes scattered across the jungle floor.
"There are four of them," someone murmured, their voice barely above a whisper.
Yet, despite the number of boxes, the clue they had received pointed to only one. Lex furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "How do we figure out which one is real?" he mused aloud.
Dev, impatient and restless, had little interest in solving riddles. His curiosity burned hotter than his caution. Ignoring the others' hesitant glances, he stepped forward and pried open one of the boxes.
A chilling wind howled through the trees. Without warning, a dark, shadowy spirit emerged, swirling like a storm. Before Dev could react, the entity lunged at him, dragging him into the very box he had dared to open.
The students stood frozen, horror-struck, as the lid slammed shut.
Everyone was on edge. Lex turned to the rest of us, his voice low but firm. "We have to be careful," he warned. "If we open the wrong box again…"
The memory of the last mistake still hung heavy in the air. The tension was thick enough to cut. We moved with caution, each motion deliberate, each breath held. And then it happened again.
I looked around at the others — eyes wide, hearts pounding. We had crossed another line.
— The Other Student
The other students had experienced the same thing, but Nori was the only one who unlocked the correct path. That was when he realized—he had a clue. It was a hairclip.
She carried an aura of power, but beneath it lay a past shrouded in darkness.
The air was thick with tension as Matt's group gathered around the ancient wooden box. With cautious hands, they pried it open, only to be met with an eerie silence. A chilling gust of wind swept through, and before anyone could react, a dark spirit lunged from the depths of the box, dragging one of their own into the void. Panic surged through the group, but they rallied together, managing to sever the entity's grasp just in time. Their friend was safe—this time.
A realization settled over them. If they chose the wrong box again, it might mean certain doom.
Deep in the jungle, surrounded by towering trees and the unknown, Lex stood before the remaining boxes, his mind racing. Something about one of them called to him. He turned to the others and, with a steady breath, pointed. "This one," he said, his voice firm. With trembling fingers, he lifted the lid. Inside, an ancient dagger gleamed under the dim light, its blade razor-sharp despite the wear of millennia.
Lex examined the relic closely. "This… this looks like it belongs to royalty," he murmured, his fingers tracing the royal stone embedded in its hilt.
Their first task had been completed. But the mystery was far from over.
At sunset, they reached a secluded temple where the sky turned a deep shade of crimson. Lumen, filled with hope, opened another box—only to find it empty. Sky followed suit, lifting the lid of another. Nothing. The jungle seemed to close in around them, whispering in the wind. Then, Alex stepped forward, his instincts guiding him. He chose a box, opened it—and was gone in an instant. The spirit had returned, snatching him into the abyss before the others could react. A heavy silence fell over the group.
Matt clenched his fists. He had to keep moving. Searching through the temple ruins, he discovered an old diary, its pages worn and delicate. Sky found half a nail and an assortment of ancient church texts. William, searching on the opposite side, uncovered a timeworn baby toy and aged paintings, their stories locked away in cracked pigment.
Six hours had passed.
Then, a sudden vibration. A message flashed across their devices: Task complete.
Lex inhaled sharply. The first part of their mission was done. But now, the real challenge lay ahead—unraveling the truth, one clue at a time.
And time was already running out.
Chapter 6 New mission
The artifacts whispered of a past unknown, stirring something deep within him.
a message arrived. Their task had been completed in time. But there was no chance to rest. A new mission lay ahead—one that would demand sharp minds and keen eyes. They had twelve hours to uncover the truth, using only the scattered clues left behind.
The atmosphere lightened as William spoke, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and clarity. "Let's uncover the truth from these clues," he said, his tone firm yet weary. "I'm done with all the bullying. It's time we face what's real." His words seemed to lift the tension in the room, and for a brief moment, everyone stopped in their tracks, listening intently.
Matt, his hands trembling slightly, picked up an old, leather-bound diary. It looked as though it had survived centuries, its pages yellowed and brittle with age. He opened the first page and began to read aloud.
"In the year of our Lord, 1553, I, Mary, write this account of my life. This diary was given to me by my mother on my sixth birthday, just before her death. I am the daughter of King Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon. My mother's passing left a mark upon my soul, and my childhood was filled with torment. My father, once a proud Catholic, became a man driven by ambition, tearing apart our faith and creating the Church of England so he could divorce my mother and marry Anne Boleyn in hopes of securing a male heir."
He paused, flipping the fragile pages, his voice steady as he continued.
"But it was I, Mary, who ascended to the throne in 1553, despite the betrayal that shaped my youth. My reign was filled with fear and bloodshed. The law of Heretico Comburendo, which I enforced in 1555, allowed me to burn Protestants—whom I deemed heretics—at the stake. For three long years, I did just that. Hundreds perished in the flames."
Matt's voice faltered as he turned the page, reading with growing disbelief.
"Mary Worth. Allegedly a witch, she was burned at the stake between the 17th and 19th centuries. Her name became synonymous with fear and superstition." He continued, a shiver running through him.
"Then there was Elizabeth Bathory, the Hungarian noblewoman from the 16th century, who supposedly tortured and killed hundreds of young women and girls. Some even believed her to be worse than England's own Queen Mary."
Matt's voice quivered as he read on. "Among her victims were prominent figures like Archbishop Thomas Cranmer, but the true horror was in the ordinary people who also fell prey to her. There were whispers of dark powers and blood-stained hands."
But then, the next page was missing. Torn out. A piece of history lost forever.
The room fell silent, as each person processed the weight of the words. What had started as a quest for truth now felt like a journey into the past, one filled with pain, fear, and betrayal. They all knew that uncovering the full story was only the beginning.
Chapter 7 find truth
Everyone knew the story of Mary. The rumors and whispers had traveled far and wide, but there was always one lingering question—what happened to her after that?
Now, standing before the church's ancient ledger, they stared in silence. The only thing written in the brittle pages was a cryptic phrase: Blood Mary. Lumen's fingers hovered over the words, a chill creeping down her spine as she read them aloud.
Nori broke the silence, her voice low but heavy with memories. "I think this belongs to Blood Mary," she said, her eyes distant as if lost in the past. "Remember when we were kids, and that story was everywhere? The one about the bathroom... at midnight... where if you stood in front of the mirror, Blood Mary would appear and drag you into the darkness? They said she killed anyone who dared to summon her. I don't know if it's true, but... if we're going to uncover the rest of this, maybe that's the next step."
The room fell into a thoughtful quiet, the weight of their shared childhood fear suddenly resurfacing.
Nori's voice broke through again, this time with a note of determination. "We need to go tonight, at exactly midnight. We'll meet at 11:50. Get some rest. Tomorrow night, we find the truth."
The group exchanged uncertain glances, but a shared resolve began to settle over them. Something had changed. The air was thick with the promise of discovery... and perhaps danger.
The Midnight Ritual
It was the dead of night when the students, driven by thrill and whispers of an ancient tale, gathered deep within the jungle's shadows. In the center of their small circle stood a medium-sized mirror, its surface catching the faint glimmer of moonlight. A hush fell over them as they began chanting in unison—"Bloody Mary"—three times, their voices trembling more from anticipation than belief.
For a moment, all was still. The wind, once rustling through the trees, slowed to an eerie whisper. Then came the sound—faint, hollow, and chilling—like a scream carried from somewhere far yet all around. No one could tell where it originated.
Then, something changed.
One of the boys squinted into the mirror and gasped. A blurry image had begun to form behind the glass—indistinct, yet undeniably there. Mesmerized, he reached out to touch the surface. The moment his fingers brushed the glass, the mirror seemed to ripple... and in a flash, it pulled him in.
Panic erupted.
Screams tore through the jungle as the rest of the group sprinted toward their tents. But they weren't safe. Not even close.
From the depths of the jungle, a figure emerged—fast, unnatural, and terrifying. It was a woman, or something like one, with hair that moved like living snakes. Her eyes glowed with a hunger that chilled the blood. She darted through the trees, using her long, black strands of hair like ropes, snatching students one by one, dragging them back into the darkness. Their cries echoed as she devoured them slowly, cruelly.
Only a handful managed to flee, heart pounding, breath ragged. Among them were Sky and Nori. Just as they neared safety, the creature's hair lashed out, wrapping around Sky's leg and dragging her backwards.
"No!" Nori shouted, diving toward her friend. Without hesitation, she drew the knife from her belt—one she'd brought on a whim—and slashed through the living hair. The strands recoiled, writhing in pain. Sky was free.
Gasping and shaken, the two stumbled into the tent, bolting the entrance behind them. They were alive—for now. But outside, the jungle was no longer just a place of stories. It was haunted.
And it was hungry.
Chapter 8 The Next Morning
The morning sun filtered weakly through the trees, doing little to chase away the shadows clinging to their memories. A heavy silence hung over the group, the terror of the previous night still fresh in their minds. No one spoke at first—each of them lost in thoughts of the friends they'd lost and the horror they'd endured.
After some time, Sky approached Nori. The fear still lingered in his eyes, but he extended a hand. "We're still in this together," he said quietly. Nori hesitated, then nodded, accepting the gesture. Their friendship, though strained, began to mend.
Lumen stepped closer, her voice trembling. "Sky… please," she said, almost in a whisper. "Don't ever do anything like that again." There was fear in her voice, but also something else—deep concern. Sky glanced at her, and for a moment, his expression softened. He gave a small smile, touched by her worry.
"I promise," he said. "But we all need to be more careful. Stay close to one another. We still don't know where that… thing came from last night. We can't afford to get separated."
The group nodded solemnly. Grief hung in the air like mist, unshakable.
Then William stepped forward, anger tightening his voice. "Let's not forget why we lost people last night," he said sharply. "It was because of Nori. He's the one who had the brilliant idea. And it nearly got us all killed."
Nori lowered his head, guilt washing over him. No one rushed to his defense. The weight of William's words hung heavy, undeniable.
Lery's voice was low, tense. "I don't think it's such a terrible thing… that the creature came. Not if the knife really protects us from it. So William—don't put this on Nori."
He glanced around before continuing, his eyes shadowed with something deeper. "We've started to understand why she appeared at that exact moment. There's a connection… between Mery and her. Something we missed before. Something dangerous."
Chapter 9 The Truth of the Creature
By afternoon, they returned to the same place they had fled the night before. The ground bore deep, clawed footprints—fresh. The old mirror by the hallway lay shattered, as if something had come through it, or tried to escape.
Max, still catching his breath, turned to the others. "Listen… I don't think it meant to hurt anyone," he said quietly, eyes darting back to the broken glass. "Last night, after you all left, Matt and I came back. We saw it… the creature. It wasn't attacking—it was searching for something. Desperate. Almost... lost."
Matt nodded grimly. "And the diary—don't forget what it said. There was something about Mary… and another girl. The one who was tortured. The one who died. But Mary… Mary vanished."
A cold silence fell.
Max continued, his voice low. "Every time we try to summon Mary… that thing appears. Not by chance. There's a connection between them—Mary and the girl. Maybe they're the same. Or maybe one is haunting the other."
He stepped closer to the broken mirror, shards glinting like secrets in the fading light.
"We need to find out what she's looking for in this place. Before it finds us first."
The sun was going down behind the trees, and long shadows stretched across the floor of the old house. A strong wind blew through the broken window, making the pieces of glass shake. The air felt colder now, like the house was holding its breath.
Matt knelt next to the strange footprints. "These weren't here earlier," he said softly. "They go down to the basement."
Max looked at him. "That's where we found the diary."
Jess stood by the door, arms crossed. She looked scared. "Do you think she's down there? Or... that thing?"
Max frowned. "I think she's always been here. Watching us. Waiting. Whatever she's trying to find—it's still in this house. And maybe we've already found a part of it."
Suddenly, a loud creak came from the basement stairs.
They all stopped moving.
Matt pointed his flashlight toward the dark stairs. The light shook in his hand. It was quiet now—too quiet, like something was hiding and listening.
Jess took a step back. "This is crazy. We should go. Call for help."
"No one will believe us," Max said. "And if we leave, the spirit might never find peace. If it's Mary down there… maybe we're the only ones who can help her."
Matt took a deep breath and put his hand on the door handle to the basement.
"We have to finish what we started."
The door slowly opened with a long creak.
Then the darkness pulled them in.
The wooden steps groaned under their feet as they walked down into the dark. Matt led the way, his flashlight casting a narrow beam ahead. Dust floated in the air like ash. The deeper they went, the colder it got.
Jess clung to Max's arm, her breath shaking. "It smells like something… old. Like something died down here."
"No one's been in this basement for years," Max whispered. "Except her."
The beam of light swept across the walls—covered in scratches. Long, jagged lines, like fingernails clawing to escape. Symbols were drawn in red. Some were smeared. Some looked fresh.
Then the light hit something in the corner.
A small wooden box, half-open, with a cracked photo frame lying beside it. In the photo—a girl. Pale, wide-eyed, standing next to a smiling woman. The name "Mary" was written on the back in faded ink.
Matt stepped forward. "This… this is her."
Suddenly, the flashlight flickered. Then died.
Everything went black.
A whisper filled the room.
Not from one voice—but many. Soft, broken voices… crying. Laughing. Screaming.
Jess gasped. "Matt, turn the light back on—please."
Click.
The flashlight flicked back to life.
And standing just a few feet away from them—
Was the girl.
Her skin was gray. Her eyes hollow. Her mouth slightly open as if trying to speak, but no sound came.
Then… she pointed.
Toward the box.
And vanished.
The girl's ghost vanished into the shadows, but the cold remained.
Matt took a shaky step toward the box, heart pounding. Jess stayed frozen, her eyes locked on the spot where the ghost had been.
Max knelt beside the wooden box, slowly lifting the lid the rest of the way.
Inside was a small, porcelain doll.
It was dressed in a faded blue dress, lace torn and stained. Its glass eyes stared up, wide and lifeless. One of its arms was cracked. A faint smile was painted on its face, but it didn't feel like a happy smile.
It felt like a warning.
Jess whispered, "Why is there always a doll?"
Max picked it up carefully. Something was wrapped around its neck—a silver locket. He opened it. Inside was a photo… the same girl from the basement wall. Her name, scratched into the metal: Anna.
Matt stepped back. "That's the girl. Not Mary. Anna."
The flashlight flickered again.
And the whispers returned.
But this time, louder. Angry.
The walls shook. A mirror on the far side of the room cracked with a sharp snap. The symbols on the walls began to glow a deep red.
Jess screamed. "We need to go—now!"
But the basement door slammed shut above them.
And then… the doll moved.
Its head tilted, slow and stiff.
Its lips parted.
And in a voice that wasn't human, it whispered:
"She lied to all of you."
Chapter 10 who is she?
The doll's voice echoed through the dark basement. It sounded empty and cold.
"She lied to all of you."
Max let go of the doll. It fell to the ground—but didn't break. It just sat there, still smiling.
Jess pressed herself against the wall, shaking. "What does that mean? Who lied?"
The strange symbols on the walls started to glow brighter. They beat like a heart. Then everything went quiet.
From the shadows, the ghost girl appeared again. Anna.
Her hair floated like she was underwater. Her eyes looked sad and empty. She didn't come closer—she just stared at them.
Then she spoke.
"Mary hurt me."
Her voice was soft, like wind blowing through broken glass.
"She said she would help me. She said she would protect me. But she lied. She used me. For her ritual. For her own power."
Matt felt his mouth go dry. "Everyone thought you were the ghost. That you were the one who disappeared."
Anna shook her head slowly. "Mary opened the mirror. She let the darkness in. Then she used my name to hide. Everyone blamed me… but she made the deal."
The mirror on the wall cracked loudly—then shattered.
Something moved inside the broken glass. It was tall, twisted, and not human. It was watching them.
Anna looked at them one last time.
"You brought the doll. That's the key. Now everything can end."
She stepped back into the shadows.
And for the first time… she smiled.
The ground began to shake. Dust fell from the ceiling. The whispers turned into loud screams—but they didn't come from Anna. They came from the creature behind the mirror. It moved and screamed, trapped by a power too old to escape.
Matt picked up the doll and threw it into the broken mirror.
A bright light flashed.
Then—everything went black.
---
When they woke up, the house was quiet.
The glowing symbols were gone. The mirror—gone. The doll—gone.
And Anna… was finally free.
They never found Mary's body. Only the old locket, lying outside in the dirt.
When they opened it, the photo inside had changed.
Now, it showed all four of them.
And in the background…
Mary was smiling.
Chapter 11 The Hollow Room
The silence pressed in like fog, clinging to their skin, seeping into their bones.
Max's breath hitched as he stared at the figure at the end of the hall. His fingers instinctively clenched around the locket, now warm—too warm—as if reacting to the presence in the room. Jess's footsteps faltered beside him, but she didn't stop. None of them did. That same invisible pull that had brought them this far tugged at their nerves, dragging them closer to the open door.
The doll was seated on the floor like a child waiting for bedtime, its tiny arms resting delicately on its lap. But those eyes—black pits that seemed to swallow light—watched them. The smile etched across its porcelain face had cracks along the edges, as though it had once been broken and pieced back together. Poorly. On purpose.
And beside it stood the thing.
It had the outline of a person, but only barely. Its form shimmered, distorted, like heat rising off pavement. Limbs too long, spine too bent, neck craning at an impossible angle. A veil of shadows clung to it, obscuring its face, save for a flicker of teeth—sharp, white, wrong—visible beneath the shifting black.
It didn't move. It only watched.
Jess took a slow step forward. "Anna?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. The voice they'd heard wasn't hers. It couldn't be. But maybe… just maybe, Anna was still in there, somewhere behind the eyes of that doll. Or worse, inside the thing that loomed over it.
Max gripped her shoulder. "Don't," he said, barely above a whisper. "That's not her."
Matt, pale and wide-eyed, took a slow step back. "This is what it wanted," he muttered. "It's been leading us here. This whole time. The photo… the locket… even the mirror. All of it."
The figure twitched.
A single jerk of the head, like it had heard something. Or smelled something.
Jess gasped, covering her mouth. The doll's head turned—slowly, creaking—and its smile widened. No strings. No mechanism. Just wrongness made flesh.
And then came the voice again, but not soft this time.
It screamed.
"HELP ME."
The sound wasn't just heard—it hit. A wave of anguish, pain, and terror slammed into them, like knives under their skin. The hallway shuddered. The lights overhead flickered and burst, plunging them into strobe-like flashes of light and darkness.
Max fell to his knees, the locket glowing in his hand. Blinding. Burning. The photo inside it now completely different. No longer a picture of them with Mary—but a new image.
The house. On fire.
A figure trapped inside.
Anna.
Jess screamed. Not from fear—but from knowing. "She's still in there. In the mirror. That wasn't her we threw in. That thing tricked us."
The figure stepped forward, the floorboards groaning beneath its feet like screams from the past. With every step, the walls around them cracked, and the whispers grew louder—frantic, pleading, angry.
Matt turned to run—but the hallway behind them was gone. Just blackness. Like the end of a dream. Or the edge of something ancient.
There was no going back.
Only forward.
Max stood again, holding the locket out like a talisman. "We end this now," he said, though his voice trembled. "We find the real doll. We bring Anna back. And we destroy whatever this is."
Jess nodded, her eyes locked on the doll. The grotesque smile.
It was waiting.
So was the house.
And it was hungry.
Chapter 12 The House That Waits
The figure in the room didn't move. It stood motionless in the thick shadow, cloaked in layers of darkness so deep they seemed to absorb the flickering light. Its presence was suffocating—denser than fear, heavier than silence. It didn't need to speak. It was the room.
At the center, the doll had reappeared. Small. Fragile. Waiting. Its button eyes seemed to track them silently, its smile sewn wide enough to suggest something cruel. It beckoned, though it did not move.
Jess's voice barely rose above a breath. "W-Who... are you?"
No answer.
The figure tilted its head slowly, unnervingly, as if studying them through the veil of its tattered hood. No face was visible—only void. A cold draft swept through the chamber, brushing their skin like icy fingers. Matt's chest tightened. The sensation wasn't just being watched—it was being dissected. The house knew they were there. It was aware.
Max edged forward, drawn against his will. "We… we have to go," he murmured. But his feet wouldn't obey. It was as if the floor had become part of him—living, clinging.
Then a sound—low and primal—vibrated through the air. A growl. Not beastly, not human. The figure moved, but not toward them. Instead, it glided to the doll, lifting it with an almost loving gentleness. Its fingers were unnaturally long, jointed in too many places. When it stood upright, it loomed—taller than the ceiling should allow, stretching the space like a nightmare bending reality.
The air pressed in, thick and stifling. The walls moaned. Wood groaned as though under immense weight, bending, warping, whispering pain.
And then the voice came.
"You should have left… while the door was still open."
The words slithered not just into Matt's ears, but directly into his mind—like splinters beneath the skin. The doll began to change. Its limbs elongated, head tilting at impossible angles. Its stitched face peeled into a warped grin, so wide it split across the jawline, revealing something underneath. Something ancient. Something alive.
"What is that?" Jess gasped, stumbling back, one hand reaching blindly for the banister.
The figure's head snapped toward her.
And for the first time—they saw it.
A face like broken porcelain. Cracks ran through its surface like veins of despair. Its eyes—if they could be called that—were black hollows, endless and devouring. And the mouth… too wide, too wrong. It smiled with a hunger that bent the rules of what a smile should be.
"Mary…" the figure whispered, the name rasping like rusted hinges. "She never left. She wouldn't let them leave."
Around them, the walls flared with symbols—runes etched in light and shadow, writhing and shifting like they were alive. The entire house trembled, pulsing as if tethered to something beneath—something buried, but waking.
Max staggered backward. "No... no, this can't be real. This isn't—"
The figure raised the doll above its head.
A howl erupted—deep and distorted, like laughter run through broken machines. The walls closed in. Reality folded.
And then came the scream.
Not human.
Far worse.
The floor buckled. Something massive was stirring beneath the boards—something clawed and restless.
"Run!" Matt shouted, seizing Jess's arm.
They bolted, but the air snapped—a rubber-band recoil that hurled them to the floor. Pain bloomed as they hit the ground. The room tilted. The world broke.
The figure was moving. Fast. Too fast.
It glided like a glitch, its face cracking apart, revealing a gaping, jagged maw. Metal shrieked. Its mouth opened wider, an abyss filled with grinding teeth.
"You're already part of it," it hissed. "The ritual was never broken. Only… paused."
The floor split. Shadows surged up like black water, clutching their ankles with skeletal fingers. The doll turned its gaze on Matt, and for a moment, he saw its eyes—not buttons, but pits of void. Endless. Hungry.
Its smile widened—wide enough to tear the fabric of the room.
And then—
"Help me…" came a voice from the dark. It was Anna's. But warped, distant. Like calling through static.
Jess screamed. "Matt! Matt, don't let go!"
But the darkness was faster.
It devoured them.
And everything went still.
---
When they opened their eyes, they were outside.
The house loomed behind them—silent, undisturbed. As if nothing had happened. As if it had never moved, never spoken.
But everything was wrong.
The air was too still. The sky too quiet. The weight of something unfinished pressed down on them like a shadow that wouldn't lift.
Max stumbled upright, eyes wide, heart still racing.
"We didn't finish it," he said, voice hollow. "It's not over."
Matt didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
He felt it in the pit of his stomach—in the mark beneath his skin, in the ringing in his ears.
The game wasn't done.
It had only begun.
And far away, in the hush of wind between the trees, something whispered:
"You'll never escape."