The room was heavy with an oppressive, chilling silence, each player tense and sick with dread as they glanced nervously between the writhing symbols on the floor and the ghastly figure commanding them. Isabella's lips moved soundlessly, her hands clasped tightly as she muttered her prayers. Yet her eyes were wide, fixed on the apparition that floated eerily before them—a woman draped in a rotting white dress, her pale flesh wriggling with maggots and worms. Her face was a nightmarish blend of decay and malice, eyes hollow and black, watching them with a chilling intensity that made everyone's skin crawl.
"Players, assemble together now," her voice slithered, hollow and malevolent, filling the room with an icy dread. The onlookers scrambled into a huddled mass in the center of the living room, breaths shallow as they obediently stepped onto the drawn symbols on the floor, each representing one of them in dark, ancient scrawlings that looked alive in the dim light.
Alex's eyes caught the crude markings on the floor—a web of twisted symbols and circles that seemed to pulse with an unholy energy, each line etched in what looked disturbingly like dried blood. His heart pounded as he took his place, feeling as though the floor itself was pulling him down.
Oliver glanced around, spotting Isabella muttering to herself, her face ghostly pale. He stepped closer, whispering with urgency, "Isabella, whatever happens, don't reveal anything. Don't let them know."
But their hushed exchange didn't go unnoticed. Jessie, watching from across the circle, smirked, the corners of her lips twitching with morbid amusement. Her eyes glinted in the dim, flickering light. To her, this sinister game was exhilarating; her classmates' dark secrets hung over their heads like a guillotine, while she herself had nothing to hide.
Suddenly, the static from the old television in the corner flared to life, the screen flashing erratically. The flickering light cast eerie shadows across the players' terrified faces, and a low, guttural voice filled the room—a voice that sounded as if it had clawed its way up from the depths of hell. Each word was laced with agony, anger, and something darker, a chill that sliced straight through them.
"Let us begin… our first player…"
The voice lingered, dripping with malice, as the players held their breath. Then, with a grinding screech, a dusty old bottle materialized in the center of the occult circle, spinning wildly as if driven by some malevolent force. Alex felt his pulse race; he clenched his fists, praying that the bottle wouldn't land on him, dreading the thought of his own secrets being exposed to these eager vultures.
The bottle's frantic spin slowed, every player's gaze fixed on its dizzying whirl, until finally, it stopped. Pointing, uncaring, at Nathan's feet. All eyes snapped to him, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow.
The disembodied voice slithered back from the screen, "Truth or dare, Nathan?"
Nathan cast a desperate look at Alex, who nodded in support, urging him to pick. Not daring to choose truth, fearing what it would reveal, Nathan's voice came out in a trembling whisper. "Dare."
The voice cackled, a deep, sadistic rumble that sent a chill down every spine. "Very well… your dare is… to make out with Oliver. Right here."
A horrified silence fell over the room, the grotesque order settling over them like a heavy shroud. Both Nathan and Oliver's faces twisted in disgust, their expressions mirroring the shock and revulsion they felt. Oliver's face darkened, his jaw clenched, and he shook his head vehemently. "No way. I am not doing that. No way in hell."
Alex's heart hammered as he watched the panic spread across Nathan's face. He took a deep breath, turning to Oliver with desperate eyes. "Please, Oliver… Nathan will die if he doesn't do it. I'm begging you."
But Oliver's face hardened, his eyes narrowing in contempt. "So what? Just because you're… you're into guys doesn't mean I have to be. Forget it."
His cruel words hung in the air like a poison cloud, leaving Nathan looking crushed and Alex stricken with dread. Then, before anyone could react, the screen flickered again, and the sinister voice crackled through with a venomous edge.
"If the player is willing, but their partner refuses, there are… consequences."
The temperature in the room plummeted, a sickening wave of cold rolling over them. Suddenly, a black, thick substance oozed from Oliver's nose, dripping sluggishly down his face, filling the air with a rancid stench. His hand flew to his nose as the vile liquid began to flow faster, staining his skin, and his eyes went wide with terror.
"No… no! What's happening?!" he gasped, stumbling backward, his hands trembling as he wiped at the substance, only for it to keep coming, dripping down his chin in black, oily rivulets. Chloe let out a horrified scream, her hand over her mouth as the smell intensified, the black liquid pooling on the floor at Oliver's feet.
Jessie's eyes locked onto the clock hanging crookedly on the wall, the hands ticking faster than normal, each tick growing louder and louder, echoing like a countdown. "Look!" she hissed, her voice taut with fear. "We have five minutes!"
The voice on the television sneered, "Five minutes… or Oliver pays the price."
Oliver's face drained of all color. He glanced at Nathan, who looked back at him, his expression a mix of relief and sorrow. Alex's frantic gaze shifted to Oliver, willing him to make the choice, to swallow his pride before it was too late.
"Oliver, please," Alex urged, his voice trembling with fear. "You still have time. Please… don't let it end like this."
But as the seconds ticked away, black maggots began writhing out of Oliver's nostrils, slithering down his face, their squirming bodies piling onto the floor with a sickening splatter. The room filled with the sound of their wriggling, the air heavy with decay, making everyone gag. The grotesque sight pushed Oliver to the brink.
With one last shuddering breath, his pride crumbling beneath the weight of fear, Oliver's voice broke. "Fine. I'll… I'll do it. I'll make out with Nathan."
As soon as the words left his lips, an unnatural silence fell over the room, as if the very house itself had been holding its breath. The black ooze stopped flowing, the maggots ceased their sickening crawl, and an icy wind swept through the room, shaking the walls, causing the lights to flicker as if the house were alive and breathing.
The voice on the television cackled in triumph, echoing in an ominous sound that made Oliver tremble like a leaf.
Then the sickening sound continue,
" Begin then."