Takashi was considering whether to head back down when he suddenly heard a creaking sound.
Instinctively, he turned toward the source of the noise.
In his field of vision, a vividly red door—whether pushed by the wind or by someone inside—began to slowly open before his eyes, inch by inch.
The paint on the door seemed not yet dry; bright red liquid kept dripping down its surface, but eerily, not a single sound could be heard.
Peering through the slowly widening gap, the room inside was shrouded in cold darkness.
A corner of the curtain was lifted, and pale moonlight streamed in from outside, casting a ghostly glow on the floor.
Squinting his eyes, Takashi could make out the faint shape of someone lying on the bed. Even from the stairs, he could clearly hear the person's heavy breathing.
Just one look at the scene in front of him was enough to chill him to the bone.
Retreat, retreat, retreat!
Even knowing full well these were just actors in costume, fear was still fear.
Takashi didn't care about looking silly anymore—if he stayed a second longer, he might genuinely pass out from fright.
Afraid to disturb the person in the room, and more terrified of them suddenly sitting up, Takashi kept his eyes locked on them as he slowly began stepping backward.
One step, two steps… huh?
On the third step down, Takashi suddenly felt something bump against his lower leg.
His entire body froze.
He was absolutely certain there was nothing there when he had first come up the stairs.
And that feeling just now—how should he describe it?
It didn't feel like an object. It felt like… a person.
Calm down, Takashi! They're all just actors. They're all just actors. He kept telling himself that over and over again.
Suddenly—
"La la la la la la la~"
A haunting female voice drifted through the room.
"La la la la la la la…"
The eerie melody echoing in his ears finally broke Takashi's composure, and he cursed out loud, "F*ck!"
They were playing the background music from Hell Girl—"Crimson Stain."
The chilling, sorrowful song amplified the horror in the room. Takashi's unease surged to new heights. His breathing grew heavier and faster.
Now he understood why this haunted house had nearly 100% positive reviews.
It was terrifying enough on its own—but now, with something unknown crouching behind his leg, Takashi was on the verge of a breakdown.
Heart pounding, teeth clenched, he stomped the ground and turned around to look.
And then he saw it—squatting by his feet was a little boy, paler than a corpse three days dead, with only his pitch-black eyes standing out.
The boy's face was expressionless, completely ashen, staring directly at Takashi.
The moment their eyes met, Takashi's mind went blank. He couldn't think at all.
"Giggle… giggle…"
A crawling sound came from the staircase above.
Takashi, trembling, looked toward the top of the stairs.
There, he saw a woman with her head twisted unnaturally to one side, as if her neck had been broken.
Her entire body was drenched in blood, and she was crawling downward through the shadows.
With the immersive setting and the haunting soundtrack of Crimson Stain heightening the terror, Takashi's psychological limits had been completely pushed.
And finally, with the little boy and the crawling woman dealing the finishing blow, they became the last straw that shattered him.
It's widely known that extreme fear can make people irritable and impulsive.
Takashi was no exception.
Without a second thought, Takashi swung his elbow straight at the little boy.
The boy, already anticipating his reaction—as if it had been rehearsed a hundred times—rolled on the spot and narrowly avoided the blow.
This was the result of being beaten up so many times: hard-earned experience.
And this time, that experience truly saved him.
As both the little boy and the crawling girl stared wide-eyed in disbelief, Takashi's elbow slammed into the staircase railing and snapped a wooden baluster clean in half.
Seeing this, the little boy and the crawling girl nearly popped their eyes out.
Like, bro—are you Black Mamba or something?
How strong can an elbow be?
Doesn't your arm hurt?
They didn't even dare to imagine what might've happened if that elbow had landed on them.
When they finally managed to drag their eyes back to Takashi, they saw his pupils dilated, breathing ragged and heavy, and both his hands and legs trembling.
"Is he one of those people Sensei mentioned...?"
The crawling girl suddenly recalled something her Aikido instructor once said: there are certain people whose hands and legs tremble when experiencing extreme fear, anger, or during physical conflict—never pick a fight with someone like that.
Because those people release far more adrenaline than normal.
Once they snap, their mind goes completely blank, and they act purely on instinct, with no restraint.
To put it simply:
Brain: Bro, calm down, don't do anything rash.
Adrenaline: I've casted the buff on you—go for it, my dude!
"You take upstairs, I'll go down."
The crawling girl and the little boy exchanged a glance, then split without hesitation—one ran up the stairs, the other down.
Takashi, now past the point of crawling himself, bolted upright and charged straight after the ghost girl without a word.
His brain was desperately trying to hold him back, while adrenaline surged uncontrollably. His heart pounded like a war drum, and with the final chains of reason snapping—
It was hunt time.
Just before Takashi caught her, the crawling girl dove into a nearby room and slammed the door shut with a bang!
"Whew… that scared me to death…"
She patted her chest repeatedly, trying to calm her pounding heart.
But before she could even catch her breath, the door began to shake violently.
She suddenly felt like… maybe this door wasn't all that sturdy.
Frantically, she pulled out her walkie-talkie. "Nanami, do you copy? I need backup!"
…
In the monitoring room, Nanami stared at Takashi, who was slamming the door over and over with his elbow like he didn't even feel pain. She swallowed hard.
Brutal.
She honestly hadn't expected the usually gentle and scholarly Takashi to become this terrifying once he snapped.
But come to think of it, most violent crimes were committed by people who looked normal and harmless.
Moral of the story: never mess with the quiet ones.
"Wait… I didn't talk back to the manager in front of him, did I?"
Nanami started racking her brain, trying to remember if she'd ever raised her voice at Takashi in the past.
"Nanami, do you copy? I need backup!"
Hearing the crawling girl's SOS, Nanami snapped back to reality and replied immediately: "Koyasu-senpai, hang in there—I've already called the staff to assist you!"
…
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
Downstairs, hearing the heavy thuds from above, Maki grabbed tightly onto Nagisa's hand, her voice trembling. "What on earth is going on up there?"
Nagisa was just as tense.
She had no clue either.
"Why hasn't Takashi come back down yet? Could something have happened to him?" Maki asked, full of worry.
"What are you saying? This is just a haunted house. There aren't any real ghosts," Nagisa tried to reassure her.
"How about we go check on him?" Tanuma Tsubasa suggested.
"Alright."
Having decided, the three of them headed toward the stairs.
Just as they reached the foot of the staircase, they saw a little boy—completely pale and looking like a ghost—rushing down toward them.
Thank god.
The boy looked at the three of them like they were long-lost family. He was so relieved, he nearly burst into tears.
He was saved.
"You—"
"AHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Before he could finish his sentence, Maki let out a heart-wrenching scream.
Without knowing where the strength came from, she grabbed Nagisa with one hand and Tanuma Tsubasa with the other and bolted like a sprinter.
"Stop! Please stop running!"
The little boy panicked.
Why are you running?!
He'd completely forgotten just how terrifying his makeup looked.
He gave chase again.
Maki, seeing him chasing after them, was on the verge of tears.
She screamed in despair, "Don't come any closer!!"
..
In the monitoring room, Nanami looked at the three being chased by the creepy little boy and suddenly felt—
Now this… this is how a haunted house is meant to be.
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