Chapter 125: Creeper's Finale-2.

After 15 minutes…

The van rumbled to a stop, its tires kicking up dust as it rolled to a halt.

Inside, Laine and Chase sat along with the rest of the crew, including Klaus, who had quietly blended in.

At the wheel was Stu, one of the game booth owners. The same man who had handled the Creeper's shuriken earlier.

"Alright, folks! We're here!" Stu announced, tapping the steering wheel with enthusiasm.

Sigh~

'Finally…'

With a huff of relief, Laine was the first to step out of the van.

Annoyance was etched all over her face.

She had spent the last 15 minutes gritting her teeth while Carrie shamelessly flirted with Chase—right in front of her.

And Chase?

That idiot didn't even realize it.

If she had stayed in that van a second longer, she would have slapped Carrie into next week.

Noticing Laine's swift exit, Chase hurriedly followed her out, while the rest of the crew climbed out one by one.

Before them stood a towering, rusted iron gate.

Beyond it?

A cemetery.

A thick, ghostly fog curled around the weathered tombstones, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.

The sight alone sent a chill down their spines.

"This… is… AWESOME!"

Carrie's eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the eerie surroundings.

"Yeah… it looks cool."

Chase chimed in, grinning as he helped Carrie steady herself after she almost slipped.

"____"

Laine watched the exchange, her eye twitching in pure irritation.

She didn't even want to be here.

The only reason she had agreed to this stupid trip was for Chase.

But now?

Instead of paying attention to her, that idiot boyfriend of hers was too busy entertaining that bitch Carrie.

She clenched her fists.

This night was not off to a good start.

Meanwhile…

Klaus remained quiet, his sharp eyes scanning the fog-covered graveyard.

And then—His expression darkened.

"I smell blood."

The others couldn't see through the mist—but he could.

Hidden among the gravestones and trees, several figures stood motionless.

Dressed in black robes, faces concealed, they lurked at different vantage points, blending seamlessly into the fog.

They were watching.

And waiting.

Klaus's gaze flicked from one figure to another, his mind racing.

Who were they?

And more importantly—What were they planning?

Cough~

A sudden cough broke the silence.

Stu, standing near the van, cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

"Welcome to Barnabett Family Cemetery,"

he announced, his voice taking on a dramatic tone.

"The final resting place of souls from the 1700s."

He let the words sink in before continuing.

"The natives once believed this was sacred land… a place of great spiritual power. But over time, its history became darker. They say it is very… very haunted."

As he spoke, Chase and Carrie listened eagerly, their excitement undeterred.

But the others?

They were barely paying attention.

Everyone else was too preoccupied—with their own thoughts, suspicions, and fears.

And Klaus?

His attention wasn't on the ghost stories.

His eyes remained locked on the hidden figures lurking in the mist.

Because he knew.

Something was very wrong.

Stu finished his monotonous speech, his expression unfazed—just another part of his job.

"I wonder if I'd be buried here."

Chuckle~

Rubbing her hands together, Carrie whispered playfully to Chase.

Chase chuckled in response.

"Be careful what you wish for."

With a mischievous grin, he whispered back.

"____"

But Laine?

Her mood darkened further.

Her boyfriend and this bitch Carrie were building up chemistry right before her eyes.

While Klaus was keeping a close eye on the shadowy figures lurking in the fog, a voice pulled him back to reality.

"Hey, man, let's start recording."

The host, standing beside him, held a mic in one hand, ready to begin.

Klaus turned, silent for a few seconds, then clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Without a word, he powered on the camera—

"____"

Only… It didn't turn on.

"Where's the escape room, man?"

The host turned to Stu, looking visibly confused.

Why were they standing in a cemetery, getting a history lesson, instead of heading to the escape house?

"Well, it's here… You need to walk through the graveyard to reach Barnabett House."

Stu's deadpan response was far from reassuring.

"Okay, man… Are you ready?"

The host nodded, then turned back to Klaus—who was still fidgeting with the camera.

"____"

"No… Camera's not working."

Klaus said flatly, shaking his head.

"You gotta be kidding me… Right?!"

The host's face twisted in frustration.

"All my preparation is gonna be wasted 'cause of your stupid camera?! Damn it! I should've never agreed to do this with some amateur newbie as my cameraman!"

His voice rose with anger, drawing the attention of a few crew members.

Growl~

A low, rumbling growl escaped Klaus's lips.

His cold, piercing gaze locked onto the host.

The host, irritated beyond belief, sneered.

"What the hell are you staring at, huh?!"

He scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Don't think I'll pity you just 'cause you're standing there looking all moody. Get lost. I don't wanna see your stupid face."

Growl~

Klaus's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable.

Then—

"You're a pole dancer… Go and give your performance at every grave."

The words were whispered low and deadly, just loud enough for the host to hear.

And then—

His mind twisted.

His reality shifted.

The host now truly believed—without a shadow of doubt—that he was a professional pole dancer.

With unwavering confidence, he turned to face the graveyard… And began his performance.

Suddenly, the light in the host's eyes dimmed, and he began strutting through the graveyard, his hips swaying seductively.

"____"

"____"

"____"

Everyone present froze.

Silence.

Men exchanged puzzled glances, their faces twisted in confusion.

Why… was he moving like that?

Snort~

Klaus only snorted, utterly unimpressed, before turning his attention back to the hidden figures lurking in the fog.

Meanwhile, Laine had had enough.

Her patience was gone.

Seeing her boyfriend continue chatting with that bitch Carrie, she turned on her heel and stormed through the graveyard entrance.

"Laine, wait… I'm coming! Laine!"

Chase quickly scrambled after her, calling out as he tried to catch up.

But as Chase focused on consoling his jealous girlfriend, neither of them realized…

They weren't the only ones watching.

High above, on a small slope near the graveyard, a pair of cold, predatory eyes gleamed under the full moonlight. The Creeper.

His gaze locked onto the couple below, eyes honed in on Laine—more specifically… Her belly.

Then, his eyes shifted to the other humans wandering through the cemetery.

Future meals.

"____"

But when his gaze landed on Klaus—

He froze.

Memories flooded back.

This man was with the monster who had hunted him down, again and again.

Grumble~

A low, irritated snarl escaped the Creeper's lips.

Then, without hesitation— He leapt from the slope.

Sigh~

Klaus exhaled, barely acknowledging the Creeper's presence.

He had already marked the locations of the cult members hiding in the fog.

While the crew continued blindly following Stu, stepping deeper into the graveyard, Klaus moved.

Swish~

In a blur, Klaus vanished from where he stood.

"What the fuck is he doing?"

A cult member, hidden behind a gravestone, grumbled under his breath.

His disguise was perfect— But at that moment, something else caught his attention.

The host... The very man they had planted to lead the crew into their trap was now pole dancing in front of his hiding spot.

"...What the hell?"

Squelch~

A sharp pain bloomed in his chest.

Eyes wide, he looked down— A hand had pierced through him.

Holding his still-beating heart.

His vision blurred.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

Before his lifeless body could even hit the ground, Klaus had already moved to the next target.

Three cult members stood together, whispering— They never saw him coming.

Snap! Snap!

Snap!

Three broken necks.

Three bodies collapsed into the dirt.

Not a single scream.

Only the soft thud of corpses hitting the ground.

Meanwhile— A black cars pulled up to the cemetery gates.

Jojo and his group had arrived.

Sigh~

Jacob stepped out, inhaling deeply— His face darkened.

"I can already smell blood."

Jojo's expression remained stoic.

"Let's go, guys. James, Leah, Rosalie—you three stay here and keep an eye on Trish and the others."

The three nodded, knowing their role was crucial.

If the Creeper realized the survivors were left unguarded, it would slaughter them without hesitation.

Jojo turned, his eyes glowing in the moonlight.

"Elijah, Freya, Jacob—let's move."

With that— They stepped into the graveyard.

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(Author's POV)

(A/N): 

Thanks for reading the chapter!

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