Emilia was fast asleep when a loud banging jolted her awake. The dormitory door rattled as if someone were trying to break in. Her roommates stirred groggily, faces scrunched in annoyance, yet no one seemed willing to risk their fragile sleep to answer the door. With a reluctant sigh, Emilia swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her knee knocked the bunk next to hers as she dropped from the top bunk. She cursed, and the one near the switch turned on the lights.
The room was quite big, with about thirty bunk beds arranged along the sides of the wall—fifteen on one side and fifteen on the other. She covered her eyes as the sudden light hit her. She padded to the door and opened it.
Cynthia burst into the room, breathless and drenched in sweat, looking like a track runner who wasn't aware the race was over. She slammed the door behind her.
"Cynthia, what on earth is wrong with you? It's the middle of the night! What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost," Emilia exclaimed.
"There was a man! I saw the man in black picking pads!" Cynthia stammered, visibly shaken.
"A man picking pads? What are you talking about?" Emilia asked, her brow furrowing as she looked back at the others nervously.
"What's there to understand? I saw PAPA NINJA!" Cynthia insisted, her eyes wide with fear.
"Okay, okay, take a deep breath. Just explain what happened," Emilia urged, trying to calm her friend.
Cynthia inhaled deeply, gathering her thoughts. "I woke up needing to pee, so I rushed downstairs. While I was in the bathroom, I saw a man in full black—from head to toe—PAPA NINJA—picking pads. I never doubted the stories, but I never expected to meet him in person. I was scared, so I ran—but he chased me back here! Just like the stories said!"
Emilia stepped outside to investigate. It took about five minutes before she returned.
"Cynthia, there's no one out here. He's gone. You can go back to your room now," she said, but Cynthia shook her head defiantly.
"Didn't you hear me? I'm sleeping here! I don't care if I have to sleep on the floor!" she declared.
Cynthia's dormitory was on the third floor of the building, while Emilia's was on the second. The bathhouse was on the ground floor—meaning Cynthia would have to climb the dark staircases to get back upstairs, and that was something she was definitely not doing. So, she settled on the floor for the night, determined to stay close to Emilia.
By the next day, the story spread like wildfire in the dry season.
Kelvin, a transfer student, sat in class trying to focus on Mrs. Harriet's lecture about polynomials, but the lively chatter behind him was impossible to ignore. Intrigued, he leaned in, drawn to the captivating story unfolding among the girls.
Emilia was recounting the night's events to Jessica, who was sitting beside her.
"You can't possibly believe Cynthia... do you?" Jessica asked.
"I know we haven't seen or heard from them since they took Clera, but something is shifting in the air—I can feel it," Emilia replied.
The conversation felt unreal, but Kelvin couldn't help himself.
"So, are you saying it's real? And someone is going to die?" Kelvin interjected, much to Mrs. Harriet's dismay.
"HELLO!!!" Mrs. Harriet shouted in frustration, preparing to reprimand the class—when the bell rang, to their relief.
"This school is weird—way weirder than I expected. I want to hear more," Kelvin remarked.
"Then you should talk to Cynthia—hear it straight from the horse's mouth," Emilia suggested.
Jessica shot Emilia a what-are-you-doing glance.
"Okay," Kelvin replied, heading straight to Cynthia, who was seated in the first seat by the entrance.
"Remember to do your homework!!!" Mrs. Harriet shouted to the class that was already half empty.
"Cynthia, can I talk to you?" Kelvin asked as he approached her.
"About what?" she replied, her disinterest apparent.
"About what you saw," he pressed, ignoring her lack of enthusiasm.
"It doesn't matter. It was the middle of the night, and I had just woken up—it could have been my imagination," she said, and suspicion flashed in Kelvin's eyes.
"No, I believe your story," he insisted, sincerity evident in his expression.
"It isn't a story—it's real," she blurted, then covered her mouth.
"Okay, can you tell me exactly what you saw?" Kelvin asked.
"I've got to go," Cynthia said and grabbed her bag to leave.
"Wait!" Kelvin pleaded.
"I don't know. I've been having weird dreams ever since I got here."
"What kind of dreams?"
"Dreams about the past, present, and future."
"So... what, you're a seer or something?" Kelvin said sarcastically, killing Cynthia's spirit.
"Look, I'm sorry, but I can't help you," she said and left.
"What!!! There was a man in the girls' dormitory? How did he get in? That place is like a fortress!" Victor exclaimed after Kelvin told him what he'd heard.
"He was no man. He was something more," Kelvin said.
"I had my own experience. One night, while some boys and I were walking after prep—night studies—we noticed an extra shadow that didn't belong to any of us. Without a word, we took off running," he recounted, fear creeping into his voice.
"An extra shadow? Are you sure it wasn't just the light?" Kelvin asked.
"There's only one streetlight on the way to the boys' dormitory, and you know that. The shadow moved after we all froze in fear—before we ran," Victor replied.
"Why haven't I seen anything?" Kelvin wondered aloud.
"Well..." Victor hesitated, weighing his words.
"Well... what?" everyone urged him to continue.
"I was thinking we could go on some kind of witch hunt," Victor suggested, feeling a bit reckless.
"I'm in," Kelvin declared.
"Okay, we'll sneak out tonight around midnight to see what we can find," Victor proposed.
"Okay," Kelvin agreed.
That night, Victor found himself in an unfamiliar place, engulfed in darkness. He heard a voice calling to him. As the figure drew closer, he gasped, "Dad?" Disbelief washed over him as he recognized the face of his father, who had been missing for two years.
"Victor, come home," his father said, blood trickling from his nose and leaves sprouting from his body. Fear gripped Victor, and he jolted awake, drenched in sweat.
He remembered the plan with Kelvin and checked his watch. "Shit, I'm late," he muttered, and hurried out of bed, heart racing.