Damian's blood ran cold. The voice came from close to them. Very close. Maybe just a few meters away.
He could feel Cedric flinch beside him. James drew a sharp breath.
"Who is that?" Damian said, trying to make his voice sound steady but failing. "Who are you?"
There was no answer. Only the chilling silence.
Then the sound of footsteps. Slow. Measured. Hard shoes on the marble. *Tap. Tap. Tap.* Getting closer.
"Don't move," Damian whispered to his two friends. "Don't make a sound."
But it was too late. Cedric had lost control. He moved suddenly, releasing Damian's hand and hugging both of them at once. His arms wrapped around Damian's and James' necks, pulling them into a desperate embrace. His entire body was shaking violently; Damian could feel wet tears on his neck.
"Cedric—" James began to whisper.
"Shh," Damian cut him off. He hugged Cedric back, one hand on his trembling back, the other hand still holding James. The three of them stood like that in the darkness, holding onto each other, breathing in unsynchronized rhythms.
The footsteps stopped.
Damian couldn't see anything. But he could feel it. Someone was standing right in front of them. So close that he could feel a change in the air current.
His breath hitched. He didn't dare to move. Didn't dare to blink.
Then he felt something. Something cold touched his cheek. Like a finger, long, thin, cold as ice, tracing his jawline gently. The touch was so delicate, almost like a caress, yet something was profoundly wrong with it.
Every cell in his body screamed to run. But he was frozen, unable to move, like a mouse under a snake's gaze.
The woman's voice whispered again, so close that Damian could feel her breath, cold, devoid of warmth, in his ear.
"Interesting. You three are very quiet."
Then the touch was gone.
The footsteps began to move away. *Tap. Tap. Tap.* Getting softer. Getting further.
And then, light.
The chandelier in the center of the room flared on suddenly, so bright that Damian had to close his eyes, turning his head away. The light burned his retina after the total darkness. He blinked rapidly, eyes tearing, trying to adjust.
Slowly, the world began to come into focus again.
And what he saw chilled his blood.
The room was still the same, paneled walls, marble floor, the table with skulls in the center. But now something was different.
Students. Everywhere. Lying on the floor.
Damian counted quickly, his eyes darting from one body to the next. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. More than half of those who entered.
They lay in strange positions, some supine, some prone, some curled up. Motionless. Eyes closed. Like discarded dolls.
Cedric was still clinging tightly to Damian and James, but now he was peeking over Damian's shoulder. When he saw the bodies on the floor, his fear intensified, pushing Damian to stand in front of him, using Damian as a shield.
"Damie," his voice trembled. "They, they are—"
Damian observed more closely, his eyes moving from one face to another. Then he realized something. His eyes narrowed.
"The ones who fainted," he whispered softly, "are mostly girls."
James, who had released his embrace and was standing next to Damian, nodded slowly. "You're right. And some of the more emotional guys from earlier."
"They were the ones screaming earlier," Damian continued, his voice louder now, like he was solving a puzzle. "The most panicked. The loudest."
"You are correct."
The woman's voice, the same voice from the darkness, echoed in the room. But this time it wasn't a whisper. It was clear, loud, coming from everywhere and nowhere.
All the conscious eyes searched for the source of the voice. But nothing was visible.
And then the wind blew.
No windows were open. No doors were moving. But the wind came, cold, unnatural, carrying the scent of metal and something decaying. The wind swirled in the room, causing the flames in the lamps to flicker.
From the large chandelier in the center of the room, something began to drip.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Deep red. Thick.
Blood.
"What is that?" Veronica whispered, her voice shaking. She stood not far from them, her face pale as a corpse.
The dripping blood accelerated. Getting heavier. Like a fully opened tap. Blood flowed from the crystal of the chandelier, from the iron chains, from places where liquid should not be coming from.
Then it was no longer dripping. It was raining.
A rain of blood.
Blood fell from the ceiling, from the chandelier, pouring down like a waterfall onto the marble floor below. The splashing sound was so loud, filling the room with a dreadful rhythm. The sharp metallic smell permeated the air, causing several students to gag.
"Back up!" Adrian shouted. "Move away from the center of the room!"
But it was too late for some of them. The blood touched the beautiful marble floor and something happened.
The floor began to change.
The glistening black-and-white marble started to fade, its colors running like wet paint. The smooth surface became rough, mossy. Dark green and brown spread like a disease, covering the beauty of the marble. Moss grew in seconds, thick and slippery, making the floor treacherous to walk on.
"What's happening?" Lisa shrieked, her foot slipping on the new moss. Adrian caught her before she fell.
The well-maintained wooden paneled walls began to transform. The glossy dark brown paint peeled off on its own, falling in large flakes. Beneath it, rotten wood was revealed, black with mold, pitted, brittle. Some parts of the walls even collapsed, showing the old red bricks behind them, which were also crumbling.
The lights on the walls flickered, some going out. The remaining light became dimmer, colder, giving the room the atmosphere of an old crypt.
And then Damian saw it.
In the corners of the room, things appeared. Objects that weren't there before were now revealed, like an illusion being lifted.
Dolls.
Dozens of dolls. Maybe more. Sitting on old, dilapidated chairs, leaning against the walls, some even hanging from the ceiling by strings. Porcelain dolls with empty glass eyes, wearing tattered, ripped dresses. Some had no hands. Some had no eyes, only empty sockets in their faces. Some smiled too widely, small teeth revealed in a creepy expression.
And among the dolls, bones.
Human bones. Skulls, rib cages, leg bones. Some were still intact in skeletal formation, sitting on chairs like long-dead guests. Some were just a messy pile of bones, dusty, forgotten.
"Oh God," James whispered. "Oh God, oh God, oh God."
Cedric pushed Damian harder, his whole body trembling uncontrollably behind Damian's back. Damian could feel his tears soaking his jacket.
The rain of blood began to subside, turning to drips again, then stopping altogether. But the floor was now covered in pools of blood mixed with moss, making the surface slick and putrid-smelling.
And then, music.
A soft, melancholic piano tune began to flow into the room. *Für Elise*. A beautiful, classic song, perfectly played. But here, in this room of horror, the song sounded like a death knell.
The woman's voice returned, now clearly coming from the direction of the table with the skulls. But no one was there.
"Welcome to my house."
The music continued to play, echoing in the room that had transformed into a nightmare.
"For those who were noisy," the voice continued with an almost pleasant tone, "I will silence them. Don't worry, they are not dead."
The piano played a more dramatic section of *Für Elise*.
"They are merely sleeping. A very deep sleep. And whether they wake up or not."
The music stopped abruptly.
"That depends on those of you who remain."
Silence. Only the sound of terrified breathing from the twelve students who were still standing.
Damian looked around the transformed room, from medieval elegance to a decaying haunted house. His eyes moved from the blank-staring dolls, to the scattered bones, to their unconscious friends on the mossy floor.
And then he saw her.
In the shadows near door number 3, something moved. A figure in a red dress. He caught a glimpse of a pale face, red eyes, a smile that was too wide.
Then the figure disappeared into the darkness behind the door.
But her voice still echoed, inviting and threatening at once.
"Now choose your door. The game is not over. It hasn't even begun."