Tom and Allisa crouched under the old broken table in the dusty classroom. Their hands pressed over their mouths, holding back the sound of their breathing. The room was dark, only the faint glow of the cracked window letting the light. Dust floated in the air like tiny ghosts.
For a long moment, it seemed quiet. Too quiet.
Allisa's heart pounded so loudly she feared the spirits would hear it. Tom's eyes darted around the room, trying to convince himself the curse spirits had gone.
Then it came.
A sound.
Soft. Fragile.
The sound of a girl crying.
It was faint at first, like someone far away, but it grew clearer. The voice was broken, choked with pain. It clawed its way into their ears.
Tom's blood ran cold. He leaned closer to Allisa, whispering so low it was almost breath.
"Don't move… don't… move."
But the voice kept coming.
"Flesh…" the girl sobbed. "Juicy… blooood… I will butcher them…"
The words were not like normal speech. They cracked, dragged, and hissed as if several voices spoke at once.
Allisa's hand gripped Tom's arm. Her nails dug into his skin. Tears welled in her eyes, but she dared not let them fall.
Suddenly—without warning—the table creaked. Something heavy sat on it. The wood bent under the weight.
Tom's eyes shot up.
A girl in a white dress sat above them. Her legs dangled off the edge, pale and thin. Her hair was long, black, and dripping as though soaked in water. Slowly, her head bent forward, lowering toward the space under the table.
Tom froze.
Allisa bit her lip until it bled.
The girl's face leaned closer, closer, until it hung right in front of theirs. Her skin was pale like ash. Her eyes were cloudy white, no pupils at all. Her smile stretched too wide, cutting her face unnaturally.
Tom couldn't stop it. He screamed. Allisa screamed with him.
The girl opened her mouth—darkness inside, no tongue, no teeth. Only void.
The table flipped, throwing Tom and Allisa backward.
Scene shift – Steve
Far away, in the cursed chamber, Steve faced the Mimic.
It towered above him, its shape always shifting. Its body was a mass of shadows and faces, crying children, screaming parents, mouths that begged for help but melted away.
"Afraid…" the Mimic hissed. "Afraid? You can't escape…"
The walls of the chamber pulsed like living flesh. The floor dripped black slime that clung to Steve's shoes. From the ceiling hung shapes like bodies, swaying, bleeding, moaning.
Steve gritted his teeth. His hands shook, but he tried to steady himself.
"You're not real…" he muttered.
But the scenes grew worse. A child's face appeared on the wall, blood leaking from its eyes. A man's voice whispered his name. "Steve… Steve…"
The Mimic stepped closer. Its smile widened, sharp teeth forming inside the shadow of its mouth.
Steve's chest tightened. His heartbeat thundered. Fear scratched at his mind, digging deep. His knees weakened.
For a moment, he almost gave in.
Scene shift – Liam and others
Meanwhile, Liam, Airan, Maya, and the rescued students stumbled through the endless hallway. Every time they reached the exit door, they ended up back in the same place.
A girl cried out. "Why can't we leave?! I want to go home!"
Another student banged his fists against the wall until his knuckles bled. Maya tried to comfort them, though her own voice shook.
"Don't worry. Don't… don't panic. We'll get out."
But her hands trembled.
Airan cursed under his breath, slamming the door again. "This place is a trap! We're going in circles! We'll die here!"
Liam stood still, silent. His face was calm, but his eyes glowed with determination.
He clenched his fists and whispered, almost like a prayer.
"Steve… I believe in you. You can fix this."
Back to Steve
The words echoed in Steve's mind. Liam's voice.
Then other voices followed—Maya's laugh, Tom's jokes, Allisa's soft words of comfort, his family's warm memories.
Steve closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stood taller.
"No… I won't fall here. Not to you."
He bent down, grabbing two pieces of broken wood. His hands scraped against the rough edges, but he rubbed them together with all his strength.
The air smelled of gas, heavy and thick, like oil. Sparks flew.
Then—flames.
A small fire caught, spreading across the oily floor. The fire roared, eating the darkness.
The Mimic screamed, its voice breaking like glass.
"NOOOO…"
It lunged forward, mouth wide, jagged teeth snapping. Its shadow arms stretched to grab him.
But when it touched the flames, the fire burned hotter. The creature staggered, shrinking back.
The fire spread fast, racing across the ground toward the far wall. Steve's eyes locked onto it—the root of the curse. A twisted, glowing black mark etched into the floor like veins.
The flames struck it.
The ground shook violently. A horrible scream filled the chamber, not from a throat but from the very air.
The Mimic writhed, its body cracking apart. Shadow faces screamed before fading into smoke.
Steve shielded his eyes from the light.
Then—silence.
When he opened his eyes, the Mimic was gone.
Steve collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. Sweat poured down his face, but he forced himself to stay focused.
It wasn't over.
Because from the shadows, dozens of cursed spirits appeared.
Men, women, children—each with twisted faces, empty eyes, mouths stretched wide in sick smiles. They surrounded him slowly, step by step.
Steve rose again, his fists clenched.
"Figures… it's never that easy."