Arin Malhotra arrived at Blackridge Academy the way most doomed people do—
quietly, unknowingly, and carrying hope he didn't deserve.
The iron gates opened on their own.
Not slowly.
Not gently.
But with a violent screech that echoed through the fog-covered courtyard like metal being torn apart.
Arin stopped mid-step.
He glanced around.
No guard.
No students.
No wind.
Just the feeling that something old had just woken up to look at him.
He swallowed hard and walked through. Every crunch of gravel beneath his shoes sounded too loud, like the ground itself was listening. The fog pressed against his skin, cold and heavy, as if trying to push him back out.
The main building towered in front of him—tall, grey, and windowed like a skull with empty eye sockets. None of the lights inside were on, even though the school day had already started.
His throat tightened.
It's just a school, he told himself.
But even thinking that felt like lying.
Arin pushed open the front doors.
They didn't budge at first, as if resisting him.
Then—
SLAM.
The doors yanked themselves inward with such force that he stumbled forward, barely catching himself.
The hallway was dark.
Not pitch black, but dim in a way that felt unnatural—like the shadows weren't caused by lack of light, but by something taking the light away.
Arin stepped in.
The doors behind him shut immediately.
He didn't turn around.
He didn't want to see if they had shut by themselves.
His footsteps echoed far too loudly. The air smelled faintly of bleach… and something else beneath it. Something metallic. Something wrong.
Halfway down the hallway, he noticed a plaque nailed crookedly onto the wall:
SCHOOL RULES
1. Do not use the mirrors after 7:13 PM.
2. Do not answer the door if someone knocks three times.
3. Do not speak to the girl on the third floor.
4. Never turn around if someone calls your name in an empty hallway.
Arin stared.
A joke?
A prank for new students?
He leaned closer.
The rules weren't printed. They were carved into the wood. Deep. Violent. Like someone had dragged sharpened metal through it again and again.
His stomach twisted.
And then—
From the far end of the hallway, something whispered:
"…Arin…"
His blood froze inside him.
He hadn't told anyone his name yet.
He glanced around.
No one.
The hallway was empty.
Silent.
Breathing.
Another whisper, closer this time:
"Arin… do you remember me?"
His fingers trembled.
He remembered Rule 4.
He remembered it very clearly.
Never turn around if someone calls your name in an empty hallway.
Arin didn't move.
He didn't breathe.
The voice came again—right behind his ear this time:
"Turn around."
A cold shiver crawled down his spine.
He couldn't stop himself.
Fear overpowered reason.
Slowly…
slowly…
he turned.
The hallway behind him was empty.
Completely.
No footsteps.
No student.
No shadow.
Just darkness stretching endlessly.
But something had changed.
The school felt awake now.
Aware.
Interested.
Arin took a shaky breath.
He had been inside Blackridge Academy for less than five minutes—
and he had already broken the first rule.