The First Whisper
Location: Main Corridor
Time: 12:30 AM
Flashlights cut through the dust-covered hallways. Peeling walls, broken desks, and moldy books completed the scene.
The footsteps of the five echoed louder than necessary, making the girls flinch at every slight movement of dry leaves across the floor.
Every creak of old wood became a ghost. Every sound, a haunting. Every shadow in the dark, a lurking monster.
A perfect setting for mental traps.
They were already flooded with adrenaline, overloaded with rumors and half-heard stories. Easy targets, ready to be betrayed by their own desperate need to see something… to witness anything.
When the mind is already primed, even the smallest anomaly can pull the final trigger.
— Look at this! — Rafael pointed at a painting on the wall. — The principal's portrait is still here. This guy looks messed up… who the hell would do what he did? Some kind of psycho?
— We should stop blaming neurological disorders for the actions of people who simply forgot how to be human… — Carmesim didn't step closer. Her eyes were fixed on the portrait, noticing something the others hadn't. Not the painting itself… but what lingered around it. — Mentally ill people can be aggressive, unstable, unpredictable… but what this man did… it was cold, calculated, premeditated… with an inhuman intensity.
Marcos stepped beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She didn't look at him, didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned into it.
He said nothing. Just stared at the portrait as a chill crawled up his spine, raising every hair on his body.
— Maybe not sick… just human. And irrational. — Hope looked at the image with unease.
The man in the painting had dark eyes and a severe expression.
Carmesim felt eyes on her back.
A sharp discomfort settled at the nape of her neck… almost like the touch of death brushing against her skin.
— You okay, Carmem? — Marcos noticed the fine hairs rising along her neck.
— Yeah… I am… it's just… strange.
She murmured, trying to steady her thoughts.
— He looks… alive. — Hope finished in a whisper.
Lucas narrowed his eyes, unnoticed, briefly glancing at the others' backs. He didn't speak. He didn't understand what was happening… but something bothered him deeply.
He couldn't tell if it was Carmesim… Marcos… or that portrait that seemed far too alive.
— I'd say it's just your imagination… — Marcos laughed, but stopped when the sound of dragging footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.
— Shit… someone tell me that was Rafael lagging behind…
His voice barely came out.
Everyone froze.
— Man, I'd love to, but I'm right next to you. — Rafael didn't even try to joke. He stood stiff against the wall, refusing to look toward the sound.
— Who's there?! — Lucas shouted.
Silence.
— Maybe a rat. — The lie hung in the air… and they were already starting to cling to it.
— Let's keep moving. — Hope suggested, her voice trembling, eyes darting toward Carmesim, who clearly wasn't in her best state.
— Carmim… are you okay?
Hope whispered as they moved down a side corridor. The air smelled like everything… and nothing.
A banquet of dense, suffocating energy.
Carmesim should have realized it then.
She was alone.
On her own.
And in real danger.
— Yeah… it's just…
— Just what?
— I can't feel my guide… it's like walking on glass without knowing if I'll bleed when I step harder.
— Has that ever happened before? — Hope kept scanning every direction, flinching at the smallest vibration.
— No… never… it's like being in enemy territory without a bulletproof vest…
— But you could be wrong, right?
— Yeah… I could…
She smiled, offering a confidence that wasn't hers.
— I hope so…
They reached the library when Carmesim suddenly stopped.
"Carmesim…"
— Did you hear that?
— Hear what?
— Someone whispered my name.
The four of them stared at her, pale.
— Come on, Carmem… it's probably your brain craving adrenaline. — Lucas forced a confident smile, leaning casually. — Nobody said anything.
— Yeah. No one did. — Marcos added.
Before Hope could respond, a distant scream echoed through the school.
It sounded like someone being torn open alive.
Desperate. Raw. The pain echoed through the halls, thick and suffocating.
It was alive.
Visceral.
Almost animal.
They ran.
Pure adrenaline and fear drove them forward. The same fear carried by prey that already knows what waits at the end of the hunt.
Like a herd of deer following instinct, screaming to run away…
And still, they ran deeper.
Further inside the nightmare that had only just begun to welcome them.
— This is not what I signed up for… this is way too real…
Hope shouted, her voice breaking as tears threatened to spill.
Carmesim, right behind her, tried to calm her with hollow reassurance.
— If something was happening, I'd know. You know that… I can see what others can't.
— Yeah, if anything was happening, our supernatural machine would know…
Lucas joked weakly, trying to lighten the tension.
— "Supernatural machine"? Seriously, Luca…
Marcos laughed, breathless as they rushed up the stairs.
— What? Someone has to be the lighthouse in this situation!
Lucas shot back, taking the steps two at a time.
— Did it have to be something that generic?
Rafael managed to protest, nearly out of breath.
— Generic? How many witches like Carmesim do we even know?
— Definitely… almost none… actually zero!
Rafael looked like he'd just run a marathon.
Lucas crouched near the wall, cold sweat forming, his eyes drifting back to the darkness swallowing the staircase behind Carmesim.
— Shit, jump, Carmesim! — He extended his hand.
— Carmem… come on, jump. — Marcos turned at the last second, grabbing Hope by the wrist and pulling her forward. She collided into Rafael, who fell back, catching her before she hit the ground.
— Damn it…
Lucas threw himself against the railing, his chest slamming hard as the air was forced out of his lungs. His eyes widened as he reached out—
And barely caught Marcos' shirt.
— Got… you!!!
he gasped.
Marcos was yanked back—
And when Lucas looked forward…
Carmesim's amber-brown eyes vanished into the darkness.
His face drained of color.
From that moment on…
It was just them.
— CARMESIM!!!
The scream tore through the night.
Hope sobbed uncontrollably.
Marcos stared at the staircase… now empty.
The old wood of the railing… the stained marble…
Scratches.
Deep.
Too sharp to belong to any animal.
Marks carved into the steps.
Proof that whatever had passed through there…
Was still here.
Crawling through the ruins.
Watching.
Feeding.
— She… she's coming back, right?
Hope trembled in Rafael's arms.
— She's the strongest out of all of us. Of course she will!
— We have to find her!
Lucas' voice struggled to steady after the impact.
— She'll be fine. — Marcos tried to anchor the group. — She knows how to handle herself.
— You actually believe that? Did you see what took her? That thing had no hands… no body… it was empty… it was darkness itself!
Rafael looked down at Hope, who couldn't stop sobbing.
— Hey… we're still here. Together. Carmesim will be okay. Not because she's stronger than us… but because she's seen things before… and lived to tell the story.
Lucas and Marcos stood there, breathing heavy. Their eyes bloodshot. Their fists clenched tight enough to break.
— Rafael's right. She can handle herself… even without us.
Lucas didn't respond. His eyes swept across the corridor.
Too quiet.
No branches moving.
No night birds.
What once was noise…
Had turned into something dangerously silent.
— I don't like this…
His lips pressed into a hard line.
— What? What don't you like, Lucas? — Hope asked, voice shaking.
— The silence.
— You noticed it too? — Rafael glanced at him.
— Impossible not to. This is way too quiet for a place falling apart. — Marcos added.
— Silence…? That's bad… isn't it? — Hope tried to swallow her fear, her hands trembling, her body fragile like something about to snap.
The silence didn't answer.
It just watched.