NINTEEN: A GHOST?

Night had settled over the school like a suffocating blanket, the once-lively hallways now swallowed in silence. In his office, Raymond moved about methodically, stacking papers, aligning files, trying to impose order on a day that had felt anything but orderly.

He should have felt relief, Charles was alive, the questions from authorities would finally stop but instead, unease gnawed at him like a relentless whisper. Something was wrong.

He gathered the last of the chaos on his desk, Charles' academic records scattered among half-signed reports. One by one, he slipped them back into their folders, the rhythmic sound of paper sliding against paper barely audible in the heavy stillness of the room.

Finally, everything was in place. Perfect. He exhaled slowly and reached for his briefcase.

That's when he heard it.

A voice, soft, airy, almost tender but cold enough to freeze the marrow in his bones.

"Raymond."

He froze mid-motion, heart thudding hard against his ribs. The sound seemed to slither into the room from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice cracking despite himself.

Nothing. Only silence pressing in like an unwelcome guest. He swallowed hard, rubbed his face, and forced a nervous laugh. Stress. That's all it was.

Turning back to his desk, he reached for his pen, only to see a pale, ghostly figure on his chair, legs crossed, hands folded neatly on her lap like she belonged there. Her face… blurred, indistinct, like smoke trying to take human form.

Raymond stumbled back so fast he hit the edge of the bookshelf, his breath punching out in a sharp gasp. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, looked again but nothing.

His pulse thundered.

"Get a grip," he muttered, stuffing papers into his case without even checking if they were in order.

Finally, he swung the strap over his shoulder and strode to the door. His fingers brushed the light switch then froze when he noticed the window.

A figure. Still. Silent. Watching.

He flicked the lights back on. The window was empty. Wide open, the curtains swaying gently as if laughing at him.

Jaw tight, Raymond crossed the room slowly, every instinct screaming not to, but his legs obeyed anyway. He shut the window with a sharp click and spun back toward the door, not daring to linger another second.

He opened the door before turning off the lights. One last glance around the office. Empty. Perfectly empty.

Except… there she was again. Standing by the window. Unmoving. A pale silhouette against the night sky.

Raymond slammed the door shut without a second thought.

The hallway was worse. A tunnel of shadows stretching endlessly in both directions. His footsteps echoed in the hollow silence, every click of his shoes a gunshot in the dark.

He walked faster but the voice followed him, curling around the edges of his mind, pulling at his sanity.

"Raymond…"

He clenched his teeth and kept moving.

"Raymond!"

This time it was sharp. Fierce. Almost angry. He whipped around and froze.

At the far end of the hallway stood a figure. Feminine. Still. Draped in something dark that shimmered like wet silk under the dying lights.

And then the lights started going out. One by one. The darkness chased toward him like a predator.

Raymond didn't wait to see more. He ran. The sound of his shoes pounding against the polished floor was the only proof he was still alive. He tore through the exit doors, lungs burning, the night air biting his skin as he stumbled into the parking lot.

Hands trembling, he fumbled for his keys, dropping them once, twice, before finally jamming the right one into the lock. He dove inside, slammed the door, and twisted the ignition.

The engine roared to life. He didn't look back. He didn't want to see what might be standing there.

He drove off into the night, heart hammering, but the sound of that voice lingered in his ears like a curse.

"Raymond…"

...

The next day, the school felt strangely lighter like a thin fog had finally lifted. Maybe everyone was just desperate for something normal again. Either way, laughter and chatter filled the halls, a welcome change from the tension that had been choking the air these past few weeks.

I strolled down the hallway with my bag slung across my back, weaving through the crowd of students who seemed to be in much better spirits than usual. A few of them were clustered in little circles, talking animatedly about certain random stuff, others were sharing memes on their phones, giggling like the world wasn't falling apart.

As I rounded the corner toward the locker room, I spotted Pink, Eska, and Summer ahead, walking in perfect sync like they owned the hallway. I quickened my pace to catch up.

"Hey, guys!" I called, jogging the last few steps.

They all turned at once, their faces breaking into smiles.

"Terra! How are you?" Pink asked, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder like she was in some shampoo commercial.

"Good," I said, falling into step with them. "Noticed anything different today?"

"Yeah," Pink said, scanning the hall as if to confirm. "It's… brighter than usual. Like the whole place had a makeover." She smirked. "Which is perfect because I've got plans, fun plans. This weekend, we go all out: shopping, clubbing, game night, anything to shake off all this drama for a while."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Sounds tempting."

"Tempting? Girl, it's a survival strategy," Pink replied dramatically.

But before I could answer, Summer spoke up, her voice a little hesitant. "Um… isn't there supposed to be a curfew at night? You know… with the vampire stuff?" She gave a weak smile, like she was only half-joking.

All three of us froze and turned to stare at her. "A curfew?" we echoed in unison.

Summer shrugged. "Yeah… I mean, isn't that a thing? Like, the school hasn't said anything, but my mom keeps freaking out about it."

"They never imposed a curfew," Eska said with a roll of her eyes.

Summer exhaled like she'd been holding her breath the whole time. "Yeah, I just don't think my parents would want me wandering late at night, not with everything that's been going on."

"Fine," Pink said, tilting her head as she thought. "Then how about this: girls' outing and a sleepover at Summer's place. No clubs, no late-night wandering, no getting eaten alive. Deal?"

We all exchanged looks, and for the first time in days, the heaviness inside my chest eased just a little.

"Deal," I said with a grin.

...

During recess, Rejoice went over to the clinic. She opened the door and saw Raymond trying to organize his office.

"Hey, Mr. Ray."

He turned and smiled at her.

"Hello, Joy. What can I do for you?"

She sat down on a small stool in one corner.

"Nothing much. Just came to check how you're doing after the whole 'Charles showing up alive' thing."

"Well, it's working to my advantage, anyway. I won't be blamed for his death anymore, but something about this whole thing seems off, and I can't help but worry. Why do I sense danger?"

"Come on, Mr. Ray, should you be bothered by that stuff? The important thing is that you're clean. None of that other stuff matters."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," he smiled, then sat down at his desk. "So why are you here, anyway?"

"Just came to check up on you." She stood and headed toward the door.

"Has this become a usual thing?"

"Ha ha, very funny. See you later," she said and left.

...

During recess, Rejoice made her way down the quiet hallway to the clinic. The chatter of the cafeteria faded behind her, replaced by the sterile stillness of the nurse's wing. She pushed open the clinic door gently, and the soft creak announced her presence.

Inside, Raymond was hunched over his desk, stacking files and straightening papers like a man desperate for order. He jumped slightly at the sound, then relaxed when he saw her.

"Hey, Mr. Ray," she said, leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded.

He turned, forcing a small smile. "Hello, Joy. What can I do for you?"

Rejoice walked in slowly, her heels tapping lightly against the tiled floor. She perched on a small stool tucked into the corner, watching him like she was studying a puzzle.

"Nothing much," she said casually, "Just came to check how you're doing after the whole 'Charles showing up alive' thing."

Raymond let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sigh. "Well, it's working to my advantage, anyway. I won't be blamed for his death anymore." He stopped mid-motion, his fingers tightening on a folder. His eyes darkened, distant. "But… something about this whole thing seems off. And I can't help but worry." He lowered his voice. "Why do I sense danger?"

Rejoice tilted her head, smirking like he was being dramatic. "Come on, Mr. Ray, should you really be bothered by that stuff? The important thing is that you're clean now. Free. None of the rest matters."

Raymond gave a slow nod, though the crease in his brow didn't fade. "Yeah… maybe you're right." He finally sat down at his desk, rubbing the back of his neck like the weight on it hadn't shifted at all. "So… why are you here, anyway?"

Rejoice stood, dusting off her skirt. "Told you. Just came to check up on you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Has this become a usual thing?"

She laughed under her breath, tossing him a look over her shoulder as she reached for the door. "Ha ha, very funny. See you later, Mr. Ray."

And just like that, she was gone, leaving the clinic silent once more except for the faint hum of the lights and the uneasy rhythm of Raymond's heartbeat in his ears.

...

Later that evening, Raymond stayed late in his office, the school silent except for the occasional creak of the old building settling into the night. He stacked his remaining papers, humming softly to keep himself company.

As he slid the last folder into the cabinet, a sound broke through the stillness, a faint whisper.

His head snapped up. It came from the far corner near the window, so soft and eerie it made his bones tighten.

Raymond swallowed hard, his throat dry. He scanned the room, eyes darting to the corners, the shadows dancing from the dim desk lamp. There was Nothing, no one.

The air suddenly felt heavier, charged, like the room itself was holding its breath. Fear rose inside him like icy water filling his veins. He hurried to gather the last of his things, eager to leave, but then...

SLAM!

The window shut on its own with a deafening crack, making him spin around so fast his chair toppled over. His heart thudded against his ribs.

Then came the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, echoing across the empty room.

He froze, listening, every nerve in his body screaming to run.

"Hello?" His voice trembled. "Anyone there?"

The footsteps stopped. Silence fell again, thicker than before. He almost sighed in relief until the curtains by the window rippled violently and fell into the shape of a woman standing there, her outline unmistakable against the moonlight.

Raymond's breath caught. His hand crept slowly to his back, fingers brushing against the handle of his wand.

"Who are you?!"

He didn't get the chance to draw it.

A cold hand gripped his wrist.

The chill burned like ice through his skin, and instinctively he jerked back, spinning to face whoever touched him.

What he saw nearly made his legs give out. His eyes widened in disbelief, the colour draining from his face.

"R–Resa?" he stammered, voice barely above a whisper.

The ghostly figure tilted her head, her face pale and hollow, her eyes glinting with something unnatural. Slowly, she raised a finger to her lips.

"Shhh…"

The sound wasn't just a hush, it was a rasping, distorted note that crawled through his ears and sank into his bones.

Raymond's pulse raced. He wanted to scream, but his throat locked.

Resa glided toward his desk, her movements smooth, wrong, as if gravity didn't apply to her. She placed her skeletal hands on the desk's edge and smiled wide, a smile that didn't reach her dead eyes.

Raymond backed away, chest heaving.

Then he saw another shape in the corner by the window, a second figure, tall and cloaked in shadow. Its face blurred, like smoke. It raised its hand, mimicking Resa's motion, a single finger to its lips.

"What… what do you want?" His voice cracked, trembling as he tried to sound brave.

Resa opened her mouth.

Her lips moved soundlessly at first, forming words he couldn't hear. Her hollow eyes shifted to the shadow by the window, then back to him. Her expression changed, anger mixed with sorrow, like a storm caught behind her face.

And then the shadow moved behind him. He didn't notice until he felt the temperature plummet, cold air swirling against the back of his neck like death's breath.

A pale hand reached out to hold him before the clinic door burst open.

"Mr. Ray, it's time! You ready?"

Raymond spun around so fast he almost fell, his heart hammering like a drum in his ears.

It was Rejoice, standing in the doorway with a lunch bag dangling from her hand, her brows raised at his expression.

The room was normal again, no figures, no whispers. Just the ticking of the wall clock and the faint smell of antiseptic.

Raymond blinked rapidly, trying to steady his breath.

"I… I must be losing my mind," he muttered under his breath.

Rejoice tilted her head, concern flickering in her eyes.

"You okay, Mr. Ray? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He forced a shaky laugh and nodded far too quickly.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm right behind you."

But as he followed her out, he didn't dare look back at the window.