> DARK CONTENT AHEAD: This chapter is darker than previous chapters .
It contains intense horror, blood, and Psychological violence. Step carefully… for not everyone who enters this night comes out the same.
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The morning light filtered weakly through the drawn curtains, painting the walls in pale gold that did nothing to warm the emptiness inside Cathy's room.
Her bed was still unmade, the sheets tangled, the scent of lavender perfume faint and stale in the air. The world outside was already moving, but Cathy sat motionless on the edge of her bed, a figure of silence wrapped in the soft hum of her own thoughts.
On the dresser beside her, a photograph of Lily smiled back — bright eyes, mischievous grin, life caught mid-moment.
The same smile Cathy now avoided. Her fingers brushed the frame, and for a heartbeat, she felt her chest tighten, like the air was too thick to breathe.
It had been three days since Lily's death.
Three days of condolences, whispers, and pitying glances.
Three days of pretending she was fine.
She rose abruptly, the motion sharp enough to send the photo clattering onto the floor. The sound made her flinch. Her breath came out uneven — too loud in the silence — and she muttered, "I can't stay here."
The walls felt smaller than ever, the corners closing in. She grabbed her keys from the desk, brushed her hair back into a messy ponytail, and slipped into a black jacket.
Her favorite red lollipop — the one she always carried — sat untouched on the dresser. She hesitated, then left it there. Not today.
†--- PRISTINE HIGH --- †
Outside, the car door groaned as she pulled it open. The morning air was cool, but the world felt distant, almost blurred. She started the engine and drove through the winding streets that led to school.
The radio hummed low, an old pop song about heartbreak, but she barely heard it.
Traffic lights flickered past — red, green, yellow — meaningless colors in a day that refused to begin.
As the school gates came into view, a few students waved.
"Cathy!"
"Sexy C's here!"
"She's back!"
Normally, she would have smiled, twirled her lollipop, maybe thrown a teasing wink. Today, her eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. Their voices faded into the distance as she parked and stepped out.
---★~ ★
The courtyard buzzed with life — students clustered in groups, laughter echoing against the walls, guitars strumming faintly from the music block. Yet somehow, everything felt slowed, muffled, as if the world were happening behind glass.
Cathy adjusted her jacket and walked past them. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement, each sound sharp and hollow. She didn't meet anyone's eyes.
From across the yard, Cindy spotted her first — bold and fierce as ever, though her expression faltered when she saw Cathy's face.
Celine was beside her, quiet, carrying her books pressed to her chest.
They both hurried to meet her halfway.
"Cathy!" Cindy's voice broke the air, but softened as she drew close. "Hey… you're actually here."
Celine gave a small smile, tentative. "We were worried. You shouldn't have come if you weren't ready."
"I couldn't stay at home," Cathy murmured, her voice low but steady. "It felt like I was… choking."
The words hung between them. Cindy nodded slowly, slipping an arm around her friend's shoulder. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about it."
"I don't want to," Cathy said quickly. "Not yet."
There was an awkward silence — not uncomfortable, just fragile. They walked together toward the music room, where their laughter once filled the walls. Today, it felt like walking into a memory that no longer belonged to them.
Inside, the instruments sat untouched. Lily's microphone still stood near the corner, a pair of headphones resting carelessly beside it.
Cathy's gaze lingered there for a moment, her throat tightening before she looked away.
"She was a good girl," Celine whispered. "I still can't believe she's gone, any word from the police yet?"
"Nope," Cathy answered clenching her fists "Whoever did it is really good at covering their tracks"
"Lily was like sunshine " Cindy chipped in "Annoying sometimes, but… you know." She trailed off, unsure what else to say.
Cathy forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"She'd hate seeing us mope like this."
"Then let's not," Cindy said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. "Let's try to keep it normal. For her."
Cathy nodded. "Yeah. Normal."
But inside, nothing felt normal at all.
---★
Half an hour later, Cathy excused herself.
"I'll be right back. Just need a to use the restroom."
She didn't wait for them to reply.
Her steps echoed down the corridor — quick, determined.
The hallway lights flickered once, then steadied, casting her reflection in every window she passed. For some reason, it made her uneasy.
The lavatory was empty when she entered. The faint drip of a leaking tap punctuated the silence.
She went straight to the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water over her face. Her reflection stared back — pale, tired, but controlled. She inhaled deeply, forcing calm into her shaking hands.
"You're fine," she whispered to herself. "You're fine."
Then, slam — the door behind her swung shut with a violent bang.
She froze.
Her head lifted slowly. The metallic click of the lock echoed, final and deliberate. The air changed — colder, heavier, charged with something unseen. Her pulse quickened.
"Hello?" she called, voice trembling. "Who's there?"
No answer. Just the slow, steady dripping of the tap.
She turned, scanning the room — stalls, mirrors, tiled walls. Nothing.
And then… the faint scrape of something dragging across the walls.
From the far corner, shadows began to shift.
The air turned still — no hum, no drip. Then came the faint clicking of heels across the tiles… but Cathy was alone. Or so she thought.
At first, she thought it was her eyes playing tricks, until a girl stepped forward — wearing the same uniform as Cathy, face obscured beneath a curtain of dark hair, half of her face covered in blood.
A gleam of silver caught the light — a dagger's edge, faint but unmistakable.
Cathy's breath hitched. "No… it can't be—"
The figure tilted its head. "Miss me?"
The voice was smooth, melodic, yet wrong — layered with something otherworldly. Cathy's chest constricted as realization crashed into her.
"Alma," she whispered. "You're supposed to be—"
"Dead?" Alma's smile curved, cold and knowing. "You all keep saying that."
Cathy backed away, gripping the sink for balance. "What do you want from me?"
"Oh, Catherine," Alma said softly, stepping closer. "You already know. I've come to finish what began the night you laughed while your sister screamed."
Cathy's eyes widened. "You—what did you do to Lily?"
Alma's smile deepened, her tone dripping with mockery. "Oh, she begged for you. Did you know that? Even as she died, she called your name. It was almost sweet."
"Shut up!" Cathy lunged forward, rage breaking through fear. "You monster!"
With a simple flick of her hand, Alma sent her flying backward. The air itself turned solid, invisible and merciless, slamming Cathy into the tiled wall.
The impact knocked the breath from her lungs; she slid to the floor, dazed, vision flickering.
"Still fighting," Alma mused. "Just like her."
Cathy tried to push herself up, blood roaring in her ears. "You think killing us will make it right?"
"I don't think," Alma whispered, squatting before her. "I know."
★ ~ FLASHBACK ~★
Alma's cousins, Lily and Catherine made her life miserable. The two girls, aged sixteen and eighteen, were sharp-tongued and ruthless.
They towered over Alma, both in stature and confidence, as they cornered her in the back garden.
"Hey, little orphan," Lily began, twirling a strand of her perfectly styled hair. "Done with all the chores yet? Or are you slacking off again?"
"I... I cleaned the floors and washed the laundry," Alma said hesitantly, her gaze fixed on the ground.
"Washed the laundry? You mean you ruined my blouse!" Cathy interjected, stepping forward. She held up a white shirt that had a faint pink tinge.
"I didn't mean to..." Alma stammered.
"Of course, you didn't," Lily said with mock sweetness. "Because you're too stupid to follow basic instructions."
"Maybe we should teach her a lesson," Cathy suggested, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
Before Alma could react, Lily grabbed a bucket of water meant for the garden plants and dumped it over her head. The cold water soaked her thin dress, sending shivers through her frail body.
"Oops!" Lily said with a laugh. "Guess you're all wet now. Better go inside before you catch a cold."
"Wait, she should clean up the mess first," Cathy added, pointing at the puddle on the ground.
"With what?" Lily asked, feigning confusion.
"Her dress, of course," Cathy said with a smirk.
The two girls laughed as Alma crouched down, her wet dress clinging to her skin, and began wiping the ground with the hem of her skirt.
"Pathetic," Lily muttered. "No wonder no one wants you."
Their words stung more than the cold water. Alma felt tears well up in her eyes but blinked them away. Crying in front of them would only make things worse.
Few minutes later, the cousins finally grew bored of their torment.
"Next time, try not to ruin our stuff, okay?" Cathy said, tossing the ruined blouse at Alma.
Alma didn't respond. She simply nodded, her hands still wringing out her soaked dress.
As they walked away, their mocking laughter echoing through the house, Alma stayed behind, staring at the ground. The loneliness she felt seemed as vast and cold as the drawing night sky above.
★ ~ BACK TO PRESENT ~ ★
Alma's fingers brushed Cathy's cheek — cold as frost. "You all built your heaven on my ruin. Now, I'm just… balancing the scales."
In a swift motion, her hand reached out and gripped Cathy's head, before Cathy could react , she banged her head on the nearby toilet seat , slamming it repeatedly ignoring Cathy's struggles and muffled scream , before she released her hold on her.
Cathy could feel a crack in her skull, blood bled from her head dripping on her uniform,
The world tilted. The scent of iron filled her nose. Every heartbeat sounded like thunder in her skull.
"Please," Cathy managed, voice breaking. "Don't—don't do this…"
For a moment , Alma's expression faltered — a flash of sorrow, almost human.
Then her face hardened again.
"It's far too late for mercy."
The air cracked.
Alma raised her dagger and stabbed, Cathy screamed — not from what she saw, but from what she felt. Alma stabbed both her eyes before slitting her throat , ending her life amidst her squirting blood .
Then, suddenly there was — silence.
When the flickering stopped, only one figure remained standing. Alma.
Her breathing was slow, controlled. The dagger, now covered in blood, gleamed faintly under the cold fluorescent lights.
She looked down at the floor where Cathy lay unmoving against the wall, and for a brief moment, her lips parted — as if to whisper a prayer — but no words came.
Instead, she crouched, slipping her hand into Cathy's jacket pocket.
A phone — glowing faintly with an unread message. Alma stared at the screen, her eyes narrowing before a smirk ghosted across her lips.
"Perfect," she murmured. "One more thread to pull."
She turned toward the mirror. Her reflection smiled back — sharper, darker than before.
And as she walked away, the door creaked open on its own, the sound echoing down the empty hall.
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