I think I finally understand it—just a little. A pattern, maybe. A rule of this twisted world.
I can't leave the school.
Every time I've tried, I blink... and I'm right back here. Like some cruel reset button is being pushed over and over again. The moment I step beyond the gates, just seconds after, the world flips, and I'm dragged back into this nightmare. It's not instant, but it's always quick. Like this place refuses to let me go.
And it's not just that. Things disappear.
Not everything, though. That's the strange part. Only some of the items vanish. And it's not random either. I've started noticing a pattern: the things I'm not holding... they're the ones that disappear. The items I leave behind, or stuff into my bag without touching again, they're just gone after a loop. Erased like chalk on a board.
That's why, when I had to kill that monster earlier, I ended up using a piece of broken glass. The memory still makes my stomach twist. I remember how frantic I was, how desperate. At the time, I didn't even think, I just grabbed what was in front of me and used it.
Only now do I realize something terrifying. I had a knife in my pocket that whole time.
I remember putting it there before I even stepped foot in this cursed building. It was just a pocket knife, but it could've saved me. Should've saved me. And now it's gone. Vanished without a trace. I pulled every pocket inside out, retraced my steps... nothing.
That means one thing: I wasn't holding it. I had forgotten about it. It didn't matter to me in that moment. And this place knew.
But the crowbar, that's still here. The flashlight, too. Because I've been clinging to them like lifelines. Because I haven't let go.
So that's it, then. That's one of the rules. Whatever you're holding stays with you. Everything else? Fair game for the loop to erase.
It's a small comfort. A cruel rule in a world already stacked against me. But it's something.
Something I can use.
I grip the crowbar tighter, feeling its cold weight in my hand. It's not much. But it's mine. And as long as I don't let go, this place can't take it from me.
I cautiously walked through the dimly lit hallway on the second floor, each step echoing like a threat in the silence. The flickering light above buzzed weakly, casting shadows that danced just beyond my reach. Then I froze.
A figure—no, a girl—appeared just beyond the edge of the school grounds, drifting toward the woods. She moved with eerie grace, her white bride dress trailing behind her like fog creeping over a grave. The moonlight clung to her silhouette, making her seem less like a person and more like a ghost stitched together from nightmares. My breath caught mid-chest. My heart thrashed violently, as if trying to escape my ribs. I stood frozen, a scream lodged in my throat, unsure if I was truly seeing her or trapped in another hallucination born from fear.
And then it hit me. That letter. The one I thought was just rambling nonsense. "Don't follow her into the woods." Back then, I assumed it referred to Hachishakusama.
But this... this was something else.
My stomach twisted with dread. There's another monster. I always suspected she wasn't the only one in this hellscape. But suspecting is one thing. Seeing it, witnessing it with your own eyes, is entirely another. My legs trembled, and I backed against the wall, trying to steady my breath, knowing deep down that I had just glimpsed another chapter of this nightmare.
I dashed toward the washrooms downstairs, my heart pounding like a wild drum. As I passed the art room, the very place where I had killed Hachishakusama—a strange sound sliced through the silence. Po... po... po... It wasn't footsteps, nor a heartbeat. It was slow, deliberate... a hollow, mouth-made murmur. Just like the whispered legends said, that eerie sound that sends shivers down your spine. The air thickened, cold and heavy with dread, wrapping around me like a suffocating fog.
"Why now? She never made a sound like this before. That slow, eerie murmur drifted through the silence like a ghost's whisper, twisting my stomach into knots. Unease crept up my spine like cold fingers, and every chilling note made my skin crawl."
I hesitated, then pushed the classroom door open, every muscle trembling. But what I saw stopped me dead—the body was gone. Nothing but emptiness and shadows where horror had once lived. Then, my eyes locked on the wall. Written in what looked like dark, dripping blood were three chilling letters: PO. PO. PO. The message seemed to pulse with a sinister life of its own, and a cold wave of fear crashed over me, squeezing tight around my chest.