Two days after Mr. Smith's death, Kelly couldn't stop thinking about it. The incident replayed in her mind as she questioned whether her dreams were connected to the sudden demise of Mr. Smith. The more she thought about it, the less convinced she was that her visions were just a symptom of her mental state. Kelly began to suspect that these dreams were linked to her life, perhaps even to the accident she experienced as a child. Doubts about her grandmother crept in, though she tried to push them away. Suddenly, she remembered the dream involving Jane, and her heart raced with anxiety. The idea that Jane could face a fate worse than Mr. Smith terrified her. She looked over at Jane, peacefully asleep, and stood up abruptly in fear. *"No... that won't happen to her,"* Kelly resolved inwardly.
Pacing back and forth in her room, she searched for a solution. Memories of the bronze boy who painted the clock in her dream surfaced—his face familiar, though she couldn't place why. *"That boy... he might know something,"* Kelly thought. *"It may sound strange, and maybe it's just a coincidence that he painted that clock, but I have no choice. These dreams aren't normal, and neither is everything happening around me. I need to ask him directly."* Determined, she whispered, *"Where can I find him? Right—the art room!"*
Kelly grabbed her coat and stepped into the corridor. The cold touch of the night air sent shivers down her spine, brushing against her skin like icy fingers. As she made her way through the dimly lit school, the silence was punctuated only by the soft creaks of the wooden floor beneath her feet. Each step seemed louder in the oppressive stillness, making her heartbeat quicken. Shadows stretched and flickered under the weak glow of the emergency lights, giving the hallways an eerie, almost sentient quality.
Suddenly, she collided with someone.
*"Ouch,"* she gasped.
*"Where are you going at this hour?"* a familiar voice said.
*"Who... who are you?"* Kelly asked, her curiosity piqued.
*"It's your friend, Janus."*
*"Janus? You're still awake?"* Kelly replied, surprised.
*"What about you? What are you doing wandering around at this hour?"* Janus asked.
*"Umm... I need to get something from the art room,"* Kelly said, trying to sound casual.
*"In such a hurry? Is it really that important?"* Janus questioned.
*"Yes, it is,"* Kelly affirmed.
*"Alright, let me come with you. I need to pick up something from the art room too,"* Janus said.
*"But..."* Kelly hesitated.
*"Come on, let's go. We shouldn't be out at night. The teachers will be angry,"* Janus said, grinning. With no other choice, Kelly followed him.
They reached the art room after a tense walk.
*"I'll go this way to find my stuff,"* Kelly said, pointing in the opposite direction.
*"Okay, be careful,"* Janus said with a smile.
*"I will,"* Kelly replied, and they parted.
Kelly moved quickly, searching for the bronze boy but couldn't find him. Then, she stopped dead in her tracks—the painted clock from her dream loomed before her. Unlike before, this version of the clock was drenched in blood. A chill ran down her back as faint wails and whispers filled the air. The cries seemed to seep from the walls, disembodied voices pleading for help. Kelly's chest tightened as the painful sound echoed in her ears.
Her head throbbed with sharp pain.
*"Ahhhh!"* Kelly screamed as she clutched her head. In the hallway, she saw a tall, unnaturally thin man whose head nearly touched the ceiling. He moved toward her slowly, each step synchronized with the ominous *"Dong"* of the clock. With every step, the sound grew louder, filling the air like a suffocating blanket. Paralyzed by fear, Kelly's legs refused to move.
*"Kelly? Kelly? Where are you?"* Janus's voice called out, breaking her trance. The tall figure and the blood-stained clock vanished in an instant. The cries were gone, leaving only silence.
*"Oh, there you are! I heard a scream. Was that you? Are you okay?"* Janus asked, concern in his voice.
*"Oh, no, I'm fine. I just... saw a cockroach,"* Kelly lied.
*"I didn't think you'd be afraid of a cockroach,"* Janus joked, and Kelly managed a weak smile.
*"Let's go before the teachers come. Did you find what you were looking for?"* Janus asked.
*"Yes, I did. Let's go back,"* Kelly replied, glancing one last time at the hallway where the tall man had appeared.
After Janus accompanied Kelly to her dorm, she turned and offered him a grateful smile. "This is my dorm. Thank you, Janus."
"You're welcome. Have a good night's sleep," Janus said, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of something unreadable. He smiled, and Kelly mirrored it, albeit weakly.
"Yeah, you too," Kelly replied before stepping into the dim room. The shadows seemed to shift as she closed the door behind her, the faint creak echoing in the silence. Her eyes settled on Jane, who was still soundly asleep in her bed. A wave of relief washed over Kelly, and she exhaled a long, shaky sigh. She sat down, her body heavy with exhaustion, but her mind raced. The vision of the tall, faceless man from the art room hallway haunted her thoughts, an image that refused to fade.
*What is that thing? A monster? Is it connected to my dreams? And why is this happening to me?* Kelly's head throbbed with each question, the pain deepening as if the answers lay buried beneath an iron weight. Frustration bubbled up, hot and sharp. Whatever this was, it wasn't just her mind playing tricks; it was real. She felt it deep within her. The urge to find the bronze boy who had painted the clock clawed at her insides—he had to know something.
Determined, Kelly whispered to herself, "I need to go back to the art room tomorrow. I have to find him." She stared out the window, the moon casting a cold glow that barely reached the corners of her room. Sleep felt like a risk, a doorway to horrors she was no longer prepared to face. She remained seated, eyes wide and unfocused, as if bracing for an unseen danger.
Meanwhile, in the empty school hallway, Janus walked with a steady, rhythmic pace, his soft humming breaking the heavy silence. *Hmmm…hmm…hmmm.* The sound echoed off the walls, mingling with the faint creaks of the building settling in the night air. The shadows around him seemed to thicken, and the chill of the night seeped into the corridor like a silent specter.
Janus halted at the art room's entrance, the darkness pooling around his feet. The tall, gray-skinned man appeared, stepping out from the inky void. His faceless head tilted, mouth agape and dripping crimson, as he let out a low, gurgling scream. Janus's lips curled into a smile, and his left eye shifted—splitting into two glowing red pupils.
The scream twisted into a strangled roar as black chains, inscribed with glowing symbols, slithered up from the floor and coiled around the tall man's limbs and neck. The metallic clinking echoed sharply, cutting through the silence like a knife. The man struggled, limbs jerking as he fought the binding chains. Janus kept humming, his steps slow and deliberate.
A massive black door materialized behind the tall man, its surface carved with intricate, ancient symbols. The hinges creaked as it opened, revealing an abyss so dark it seemed to absorb all light. The chains tightened, dragging the tall man inch by inch toward the yawning darkness. His resistance grew frantic, the chains straining with each violent tug.
"Why, why…no! Help me!" The tall man's voice cracked, a mixture of rage and terror.
Janus leaned in, his grin spreading wider. "A peasant is always a peasant. Don't act mighty just because you can walk this world," he whispered, eyes gleaming.
The tall man let out a final, desperate scream as the chains pulled him through the door. The air crackled, and the heavy thud of locks snapped into place as the door sealed itself. Moments later, Janus snapped his fingers, and the door shattered into a cloud of black butterflies. The delicate, winged creatures scattered, slipping through the cracks of the window and disappearing into the cold night.
Janus's soft humming resumed as he strolled out of the art room, leaving behind an unnatural silence. The school lay shrouded in stillness, and no one heard the echoes of terror that had clawed at its walls.