In a surge of reckless determination, I dashed forward, my eyes locked onto the ghost. "Hey! Ugly Ghost!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos like a thrown blade.
He didn't flinch.
His back was turned, his attention still zeroed in on charging up another energy blast.
"Gack! He's completely ignoring me!" I hissed under my breath, annoyance flaring hot in my chest.
My eyes darted across the wrecked room—then stopped. A metal rod glinted in the corner like a discarded key to chaos.
'Oh! Oh!' My gaze lit up. In one motion, I lunged, fingers curling around the cold metal. It hummed with potential—maybe useless, maybe everything.
At that exact moment, a blast screamed toward me.
"Llyne! Look out!" Ronald's voice cracked like thunder, laced with a panic that spiked the air.
Reflexes took over. My body twisted, weight shifted—then I swung.
The rod met the energy head-on.
BOOM—!
Shockwaves rippled through the room like a localized earthquake. But instead of disintegrating, the blast twisted in midair—redirected by the rod's angle and my desperation. It tore out of the house in a sonic scream, vanishing with a distant whompf.
"Nice swing!" Ronald's voice rang out, dazed but impressed.
"It's not over just yet!" I called back, adrenaline coursing like fire in my veins. With momentum on my side, I closed the distance between me and the ghost, gripping the rod like a bat.
His form hovered in the air, flickering slightly.
"This is for ignoring me~" I muttered.
The rod struck his gut with a sickening echo. Like a home run. Except the ball screamed.
The ghost's mouth opened in a raw howl. His translucent body contorted as if the pain were real.
"Ignore me one more time, and I'll make it a goner!" I threatened, then danced around.
"I think it's already a goner... and… do ghosts feel pain?" Ronald asked, one hand awkwardly cupping his crotch like the ghost's suffering was contagious.
The ghost hissed, eyes brimming with ghostly malice. I smirked, waving the diary like bait before him.
"Let's make a deal. I'll give you the diary. In return, you let us go."
The ghost's form flickered again, then slowly straightened, attempting to regain its dignity. "You had your chance."
"But you see—" I struck a deliberately cute pose "—we were young and foolish back then."
"That was just a few minutes ago," Ronald muttered flatly.
I shot him a glare. "Whose side are you on?! Support me, don't ruin the narrative."
The ghost's patience was clearly fraying. "Fine. Let's get this over with."
He floated closer, hand outstretched, ready to take back the diary.
I jerked the book back. "So, do we have a deal? Just remember—whoever breaks it is the real fool."
"Just give it to me already!"
Got him.
With a smirk, I handed over the diary.
The moment the ghost clutched it, I grabbed Ronald's wrist and bolted toward the door like a sprinter at the final lap.
Each step thudded with rising tension. The moment our fingers grazed the door handle, I flung it open. We surged through the threshold—slam!
The door shut behind us like a final punctuation mark.
"That should buy us some time," I panted, the silence oddly heavy.
Ronald blinked. "What does? Ghosts can pass through anything."
"…Oui?" I stared at him.
A cold realization clawed at my spine.
"Ooo... I forgot," I muttered with a dry laugh. "I hope it's earthbound."
The laughter died fast.
We looked around. The scenery was… familiar. Too familiar.
"Ooh! We're back in the house," Ronald said, eyes sweeping the dim interior.
"Right. I wonder why…" My voice trailed off as my gaze shifted to where the door had just been.
Except—
"The door! It's missing!"
Ronald's panic snapped like a whip. "You're right! Where did it go?!"
I reached out and pressed my palm to the wall. Smooth. Solid.
No hinges. No handle. No exit.
"Oui… it's really gone," I muttered.
Ronald whimpered. "Huhuhu… This place is really scary."
"More than the ghost?"
He nodded, hand quivering like a leaf. "Ghost is normal. Haunted house isn't."
A snort escaped me. "Now I'm curious what kind of stuff you do find normal."
Then—shuffle shuffle.
A sound.
Subtle. Growing louder.
"Do you hear that?" I asked, pulse ticking up.
"Sounds like footsteps," Ronald confirmed, looking oddly proud of himself.
"…How can you be happy about that?" I deadpanned.
"Why not? Happiness is good." He puffed out his chest.
I raised a brow. "Say that again when you see what's coming."
And just like fate couldn't resist the punchline—
From the shadows… they emerged.
Zombies.
A horde. Dead eyes locked onto us. Limbs dragging, twitching. The scent of rot filled the air like a smothering fog.
And then—they ran.
Grotesque. Fast. Wrong.
"Waaah~ Llyne! What do we do?!"
"What else can we do? Run!"
We bolted.
The sound of their pursuit was deafening—wet slaps of feet, guttural growls echoing behind us.
We sprinted like mad through the twisting corridors, lungs burning, adrenaline numbing our senses.
Finally—after what felt like an eternity—we slowed.
Heaving. Alive.
"My heart is about to explode." I laughed breathlessly.
"I hate running…" Ronald gasped.
I glanced around. "Looks like the King cobra wasn't with them this time, huh?"
"Neither the zombie lady," Ronald added.
Relief washed over us like a fragile breeze.
And then—a shadow fell.
Darkness swallowed Ronald's figure.
I looked up.
My mouth moved before my brain could even register what I was seeing.
"Oui. My big mouth."
The King cobra.
Again.
Its hood flared like a deadly crown. Its eyes were locked on us with cold hunger.
Time froze.
Then—it struck.
We dove, barely escaping death's fangs by a breath.
We didn't wait for round two.
We ran.
The snake's strikes tore through the air behind us, smashing through walls and splintering wood.
"I forgot my master just taught me a move recently!" Ronald shouted, still running.
"What?! Really? I'm counting on you, then!"
"Please, do!"
He skidded to a halt.
Turned to face the cobra head-on.
A calm washed over him.
And in that moment—I felt it.
The shift.
The prelude to something dangerous.