LARA'S POV:
Okay. Let's get this straight.
We are trapped in a haunted school where:
Chairs float.
Walls move.
Shadows stalk us like unpaid interns.
The creepy kid smiles like he just solved world hunger.
And somehow, I am the only sane one here. Or at least the only one trying to laugh before screaming.
I crouched behind a desk, which, for the record, is not sturdy. It wobbled like my last attempt at cooking spaghetti. Felix is beside me, looking like a wet raccoon who just realized the world hates him. Kai is over there, calm as a cucumber, staring at the hallway like he's waiting for a bus. Sarah—Sarah is being all leader-y, trying to make decisions while I'm just… mentally composing my eulogy.
And then there's Mira. Super calm. Standing there like she's about to unlock a secret level in the game of death.
I peeked over the desk. Shadows twitching. The tall faceless thing is creeping closer. I think it's smiling at me. Or maybe that's just my imagination. Or maybe it's judgmental. Either way, rude.
Felix whispers, "It knows me."
Oh yeah, I didn't know they came with cheat codes for personal trauma! Fantastic.
I decided to break the tension.
"Hey monster!" I yelled. "Yeah, you! I hope you like bad jokes because that's all I've got!"
The creature froze. Or maybe it didn't. Hard to tell with faceless things.
"I said… Why did the ghost go to therapy?" I continued, sweating bullets.
"…Because it couldn't handle its past!"
Nothing. Absolute silence.
Felix groaned. "You're going to get us killed with your jokes!"
"Exactly!" I whispered. "I'm sacrificing myself for comedic purposes! You're welcome!"
Kai rolled his eyes. "Please, Lara, we need to focus."
"Focus?!" I whispered back. "Focus?! I'm trying to survive AND entertain a faceless nightmare! That's like juggling chainsaws while blindfolded!"
Suddenly—the shadows wavered.
"…Wait," I whispered. "Did I just… make it hesitate?"
Felix blinked. "You didn't! You literally screamed a pun in its face."
"Yes! Humor is the ultimate weapon!" I hissed proudly.
Then the walls shifted again. The ticking grew louder.
I grabbed the nearest chair like a heroic spaghetti hero.
"Alright, guys! Plan B: If this thing eats us, I want my obituary to say: 'She died making terrible jokes, and we all laughed anyway.'"
Sarah groaned. "Lara—can you not—"
Too late. I was already charging the room like a caffeinated squirrel.