The farther we walked, the quieter the world became.
Streetlights faded behind us one by one, flickering out like dying stars. With every step of my foot on the gravel, it felt like I was grinding my teeth up against each other. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Twenty-five people all walking in a loose and fraying line. No one dared to even say they were really scared of all of this.
But I could feel it.
The gravel bit into my shoes, each uneven stone a jolt up the spine. The cicadas hadn't even stopped ever since we left the main road and now they sounded too loud, too rhythmic, to add to the dire atmosphere of the situation. Something was surely waiting for us ahead.
I looked towards my classmates for a sense of relief, hoping to see if their faces were also filled with the slightest hint of dread.
"This is stupid," Macy muttered, barely audible over the crunch of gravel. She shoved her glasses up with a twitchy flick. Her voice was raw, like it had been rubbed down to the nerves. "Total prank."
Someone behind her scoffed.
"Yeah?" Blake's voice rang out. From the tone alone he was haughty and cocky. What a douchebag.
I didn't bother turning around. I could already picture his smirk. Hands stuffed in his jacket, probably flexing his jaw like that'd make him fearless.
"Maybe I do," Macy replied, voice flatter than the road. Her voice hinting as if her own hands weren't even shaking.
Someone laughed. Then followed by the rest of the other classmates. Their laughter was not genuine laughter. It was hollow and dry.
I checked my phone again for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Still no bars. Not even one.
Hailey was beside me now slightly walking ahead of me. Her warmth and her sweater brushing against my uniform provided me with a slight relief, at least.
"No signal, huh?" she asked. Her voice was calm, but it felt off. Too casual, like someone forcing normal in a room full of broken glass.
She shook her phone, half-hearted. "Figures. First rule of horror movie logic, right? No signal. No escape."
I didn't answer. My throat was tight. Not fear exactly, but something close like my body had already decided I should be panicking, and my brain just hadn't caught up yet.
"You think if we die," Hailey said, her voice quieter now, "it'll be quick?"
I gave her a glance. Her face was unreadable. That scared me more than anything.
"I don't know," I muttered. "Depends on who or what is doing the killing." She pulled her sleeves over her hands. I noticed her fingers were trembling before she shoved them in her pockets. We didn't stop walking.
The trees were getting thicker. Shadows overlapping like layers of ink. It felt like stepping into a throat, the woods ready to swallow us whole. "Stick together," Macy said, a little louder this time. "No one wanders off. Got it?"
No one objected. No one wanted to.
"You heard her," Hailey murmured, not looking at me. "We stick close. Right, partner?"
I nodded. I think. My chest was tight. Talking felt like a risk.
The mansion sat at the edge of town like it had been dropped there and forgotten. Overgrown path. Cracked stone steps. Windows so dirty they looked painted over.
We stood at the gate.
No one said anything for a while.
Then the gate creaked open on its own. Not fast. Not slow. Just wide enough for us to go through. Nobody touched it.
"Okay," someone behind me muttered. "That's not weird at all."
Hailey stepped forward first. Of course she did.
I followed. Then Macy. Then the rest.
Twenty-five of us walked through the gate like we were lining up for something we didn't want to see.
Outside, the place looked dead.
Inside, it didn't.
The second we stepped in, everything changed.
The lights were already on.
The air was warm.
And the floors were spotless.
We weren't in a haunted house.
We were in someone's living room.
Wood floors. Clean rugs. Paintings on the walls; serious old portraits with eyes that followed too well. A staircase straight ahead. A hallway stretching off to the right. It smelled like wax and something faintly sweet.
No dust. No cobwebs. No signs of decay.
"This place is… clean?" Jordan said, blinking.
"Feels like it was prepped," Hailey added.
Macy looked around slowly. "Someone's been keeping it ready."
"For us?" I asked. It just came out.
Nobody answered.
We spread out a little. Not far. Just enough to breathe.
Every room looked like it belonged in a rich person's catalog: clean furniture, lit lamps, polished floors. But no personal stuff. No shoes. No clutter. Nothing that made it feel like someone actually lived here.
This whole place looked too surreal, even for me. Who would have thought a real serial killer had lived here for a decade or so. Strangely enough this place definitely was arranged for all of us to be here. I breathed a heavy sigh as I slumped over the wall trying to think of the current situation.
Hailey followed suit, seemingly also lost in thought. Then she pulled out the letter. "One trial." She read aloud. "One reward. Survivors will be compensated."
Before I had to interject Hailey, Jordan stepped in and spoke up. He raised his hand. "And what if we don't play?" Someone dies. I knew that bitter truth. "Someone dies." Hailey said with a straight face.
I didn't look at him when I answered again. "One life per absentee. That's what it said."He looked down. "Right."
No one moved for a minute. Somewhere in the house, a light buzzed.
"We don't even know what the trial is yet," Macy said. "Maybe we're already in it." That made my stomach twist. Because she might be right.
Maybe the trial wasn't something we'd see.
Maybe it was just… being here.
We grouped up again.
Some of us were whispering. Some just stood there, trying not to look nervous. Hailey paced a little. Blake leaned against a wall, arms crossed like he was trying to act cool, but I could see his leg bouncing.
Me? I was trying to keep my breathing even.I was trying to assess all of it. The only thing to do now is to gather clues about this place and hopefully make it out alive. And so with a puff, I exclaimed,
"Alright. We'll split out crew. Find anything suspicious and then in an hour or so, we'll gather again in this lobby again. Got it?" Just as I said those words I felt a gut-wrenching pain on my stomach.
"This was never about ghost stories," I said. "This is about whoever sent those letters. They wanted us here. And now we're stuck."
Hailey looked at me. She had the face of a friendly nod of approval as she looked at me, as if to say "Nice one, Remy!"
Everybody in the lobby agreed, and eventually small groups of clubmates formed. Hailey looked excited for once because naturally I was in her group.
"If anyone of you find something worth checking out, don't be afraid to holler alright?" Hailey intervened.
Hailey gave one last glance at the letter before folding it up and tucking it into her sweater sleeve like she didn't trust even her bag with it. She turned toward the stairs with that spark in her eye again. "C'mon. Upstairs probably has something weird waiting."
I gave the room one more scan before following. The others were already splitting off—some to the hallway, others toward a side door that led deeper in. A few stood frozen for a beat longer than they should have, probably hoping this was all just a very elaborate prank.
Spoiler: we weren't ready.