The moment Cecilion opened the door, an eerie stillness settled over them. Cold shivers ran through their veins as they came face to face with something they all knew—something that shouldn't be here.
Their classroom.
The desks, the whiteboard, even the faint scent of chalk dust—it was all the same. Too much the same.
"W-What the hell..." Mateo whispered, his eyes wide, his voice barely above a breath.
No one answered.
Cecilion stepped in cautiously, his damp shoes making a soft, wet sound against the tiled floor. His sharp eyes scanned every inch of the room, his body tense, ready to react.
The others held their breath as he took a slow step forward, testing the air. When nothing seemed to jump at him, he turned back to face them, gaze landing on Zixuan.
"Are we going in?" His voice was calm, controlled.
But no one answered.
They were frozen in place, unable to comprehend what they were seeing.
Zixuan swallowed, her throat dry as she hesitantly stepped forward. She let her gaze sweep across the room, lingering on the chairs, the posters on the walls, even the tiny crack in the floor near her usual seat. It was all too familiar.
Yet… something felt wrong.
The air was heavy, suffocating. The silence stretched unnaturally, pressing down on them like a weight.
"I-I don't know," Zixuan finally said, her voice unsteady. "I-I feel like there's something more terrifying waiting for us there."
A small whimper came from beside her. Paige, who had been eerily quiet, clutched onto Zixuan's arm, her hands ice-cold from the rain. She was trembling—not just from the cold, but from something deeper.
"B-But at least the school is familiar to us," Paige spoke, her voice shaking. "We know where we go in case—"
"In case what?" Daniela cut in, her tone sharp with unease.
Silence.
"We don't know where we are," Harith muttered. "We don't even know how we got here. But unless we figure that out, there's no way we can escape."
His words sent a new wave of unease through the group.
Escape.
They hadn't even considered that yet.
Something wasn't letting them leave.
The rain outside had been relentless, and yet now that they were here, it was silent. Too silent.
Zixuan turned to Harith, noticing the way his eyes flickered with something—an attempt at reasoning, maybe? Desperation?
"I mean, c'mon, guys!" he continued, forcing a nervous laugh. "We've been playing this kind of game since first-year college. You know. Escape rooms!" He tried to sound lighthearted, but the shakiness in his voice betrayed him.
Zixuan narrowed her eyes.
This wasn't a game.
Harith, however, pushed forward, his gaze sweeping across their group. "Xuan, you're good at directions and strategies. If anyone can figure a way out, it's you. Daniela—you've got a hell of an aim. If we need to fight, you're our best bet."
He turned to Paige, hesitating for a moment before sighing. "And Paige… Well, I don't think this is your thing, but!" He raised a hand before she could protest. "You're observant. You always notice things the rest of us don't. That could be useful."
Finally, he looked at Mateo. "And you… You should have the brute strength among us. So why the hell couldn't you open that door earlier?"
Mateo scoffed, crossing his arms. "Excuse me? That thing wasn't locked, but it wasn't moving. It's like it didn't want to be opened. That's not on me, man."
"Doors don't have a will of their own," Harith shot back.
Mateo narrowed his eyes. "Then explain this."
He gestured at their surroundings.
Their classroom.
A place they had left hours ago.
A place that shouldn't be here.
A heavy silence settled over them once more.
Zixuan's fingers curled into fists as a single thought began to take root in her mind.
Of course, this wasn't their classroom.
Everyone knew that.
Yet, as Paige had pointed out, it was the only place that felt remotely familiar. It was an exact replica down to the last detail—the placement of the desks, the posters on the walls, even the faded marker scribbles on the whiteboard.
And that was what unsettled Zixuan the most.
It was too perfect.
Almost as if something had created it just for them.
She swallowed the lump in her throat as Harith spoke up, his voice low but urgent.
"So, should we get in or should we find another open room?" He turned to Cecilion, his gaze searching for a decision.
Paige clutched onto Zixuan's arm a little tighter, her fingers ice-cold. No one wanted to be the first to say it, but they all knew staying out in the hallway wasn't an option. Not with that thing lurking nearby.
"Paige was right," Cecilion finally said, his voice steady. "At least this place will be familiar to us. So, what do you guys think?"
Silence.
Everyone hesitated, weighing their options.
Then—
A sound.
A faint, sickening dragging noise echoed from the hallway behind them. It wasn't fast. It wasn't hurried. It was slow, deliberate, and utterly terrifying.
It was still there.
And it was coming closer.
Mateo tensed, his breath hitching. "Nah, we in," he muttered, raising a hand as if surrendering to the inevitable. Without waiting for another word, he carefully stepped inside ahead of Cecilion.
One by one, the others followed.
Zixuan cast one last glance toward the hallway, her stomach twisting at the thought of whatever was lurking beyond the shadows.
She didn't want to go in.
But she had no choice.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.
And the door swung shut behind them.
"I'd never get used to that!" Daniela groaned, wrapping her arms around herself as if that would ward off the chill creeping into her bones.
The classroom looked exactly like theirs, down to the tiniest details— the faint scent of old books mixed with the lingering aroma of instant coffee, even the desk arrangement. Yet, something was off. An uncanny wrongness lingered in the air, like a song slightly out of tune, barely perceptible yet undeniably unsettling.
Daniela turned to Zixuan and Cecilion, brows furrowed. "So, where do we start now? I supposed everyone's aware this is not our school."
Cecilion pressed his lips into a thin line. He had no immediate answer, no logical explanation for what was happening. But if there was one thing he had learned from all their years of gaming, it was that every mystery had a pattern.
"The first thing we need to do is piece together everything that led us here," he said, his voice calm despite the tension thrumming beneath it. "We need to figure out if this is happening to us or if we somehow triggered it ourselves."
The others exchanged uneasy glances.
"Triggered it?" Paige asked, clutching the damp sleeves of her uniform.
Cecilion gave a slow nod. "Think about it. We've played a lot of dumb games before—Ouija, urban legend dares, even those ridiculous midnight rituals we laughed about afterward. What if one of them wasn't just a game? What if we did something without realizing it?"
No one spoke.
He could see it in their faces—the slow realization creeping in, the way their minds raced to recall every strange, insignificant detail they might have brushed aside in the past month.
"Write everything down," he instructed. "Any weird occurrences, nightmares, strange messages—anything unusual that happened to you in the last four weeks."
They hesitated, but one by one, they pulled out whatever scraps of dry paper they could find, borrowing old ballpoint pens from forgotten desk drawers. Their wet clothes clung to them uncomfortably, their skin sticky from the storm outside, but no one complained.
The only sound was the quiet scratching of pens against paper.
Except for Harith.
He sat there, staring at his blank sheet, brows knitting together.
Nothing.
No ominous dreams, no eerie whispers in the dark, no cryptic messages. It was as if his life had been completely normal—until now.
Feeling a pang of unease, he glanced at Mateo, opening his mouth to speak—
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Swift footsteps coming toward them.
The hairs on the back of Zixuan's neck stood on end. Her heart pounded.
The others froze in place, their breaths shallow, as if even the smallest sound might invite disaster.
Cecilion's muscles tensed. The footsteps were deliberate. Not hesitant. Not lost. Someone—or something—was approaching with purpose.
Harith's fingers curled into a fist, his body shifting into a defensive stance. He glanced at Mateo, who instinctively grabbed a wooden chair leg that had come loose earlier when he accidentally pushed it over.
Cecilion didn't hesitate. He picked up a broken broomstick, gripping it firmly, his mind already calculating escape routes.
Paige, Daniela, and Zixuan pressed against the wall, hands trembling.
Then—
BANG!
The door slammed open.
Six figures stumbled inside.
Three men. Three women.
They were drenched, disoriented—but alive.
The sight of them sent a fresh wave of shock through the group, but Cecilion—his eyes widened with something sharper than fear.
Recognition.
"Casper?" His voice came out hoarse.
The man—Casper—blinked rapidly, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
"C-Cecilion?" he stammered. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
For a split second, no one spoke. The tension in the air was suffocating.
Then, Mateo's eyes darted between Cecilion and the newcomers, his voice laced with suspicion.
"You know him?"
Cecilion nodded. "Yes, he's my older brother."