Chapter 31

Sara knelt by the pond, absent-mindedly gazing at the dark surface of the water, swathed in curled nenuphar leaves.

She was so close to leaning forward and forgetting all the worries that had left her body devastated. She longed to finally find peace and freedom from the nightmare that this place had become. Moreover, she wished to forget her painful love, the death of a peer, and the looming thought that soon she would be forced to witness the morgue claiming her friends.

The teenager couldn't take it all; she was too weak to cope with such immense pain. In an act of desperation, she decided to give up.

She closed her eyes and listened to the silence, her body swaying dangerously over the water.

That moment could have ended disastrously for her if not for the voice echoing in her head.

"This is not an escape from problems," it said. She lifted her eyelids and plunged her puzzled eyes into the apparition standing on the other side of the pond. "Your soul will be trapped here for all eternity, and you will never find peace."

She lowered her face, overwhelmed by the realization that this was not her grandmother. The phantom, taking her grandmother's form, had sent her somewhere far away, intending to mess with the girl's mind.

"Don't you want our death? Don't you desire my destruction?"

"It's not about your death, but I need to borrow your body," the phantom declared, gliding over the muddy ground. "I need your help to exact my revenge."

"On Alan?" Sara interjected hastily, worried that he was in danger. Although their relationship had been complicated for a long time, she still cared about him and intended to protect him.

They shared too much for her to give up on him so easily. Despite how much he had changed, she told herself it was the General's influence, and she was determined to fight for him. Even if their relationship had suffered and no longer resembled what it once was—or perhaps no longer existed—she wouldn't let him or anyone else get hurt.

In that brief moment, her unexpected fighting spirit awakened.

"If this boy continues to live, it will lead to many tragedies," the phantom said, its eyes terrifying, causing Sara to tremble. "Listen to me before it's too late…"

"Why should I?"

"Because I know what the future holds for you."

An uncomfortable shudder ran through her body, but she didn't reveal how frightened she was.

"I want to know why you wanted Alan dead from the very beginning."

The phantom circled the girl, its silence lasting too long.

"I have a reason."

"I also have a reason to protect him."

She closed her eyes, feeling a penetrating chill.

"By protecting him, you will squander your chance to escape."

The phantom's eyes seemed darker and more sinister when it mentioned the General's grandson.

"If you protect this boy, then you will all die."

Before the girl's eyes, a terrifying vision unfolded—she saw the dead bodies of her friends. She took a deep breath and pressed her hand to her chest as the scene made her heart ache.

"Free yourself from him while you still can. He loves you obsessively, and this will lead to a great tragedy. You can stop it as long as it's possible."

"Why are you trying to warn me?" Anxiety flickered across her face.

"I will prevent everything, but I need your body," the phantom declared, hovering above the ground. It faced the girl and extended a snow-white hand toward her. "Just let me do it."

Sara was shocked. Panic filled her eyes as she looked around the dark area, but no one was nearby.

She needed help.

How could she become the vessel for a spirit that wanted Alan dead? Her grandmother had warned her about this phantom, informing her it would try every trick to get its way, so Sara must not let it.

She shook her head, signaling her refusal.

The phantom touched her neck and squeezed it with frighteningly cold fingers. Then Sara suddenly woke up in her bed. Breathing heavily, she looked around the room, her gaze stopping on her friend, who was tossing and crying restlessly in his sleep.

She got out of bed and crouched beside the boy, her hand touching his fevered skin. He gasped and then opened his eyes, staring shakily at Sara.

Suddenly, he jumped up and threw off the blanket, running to the other end of the room. Sara's attention focused on his trembling hands.

"Oliver?" she asked uncertainly as he covered his ears. He looked around anxiously, jumping as if hearing some shrill noise.

"What's wrong with him?" Sara asked her sleepy roommate.

"I have no idea, but I'm starting to worry. It's not like Oliver to behave this way…"

She widened her eyes as he began muttering hurriedly under his breath. She tried to catch individual words and eventually pieced together a sentence.

"They are monsters… They are coming. We have to hide. They will kill us."

"Oliver, what are you talking about? What monsters?"

The boy was unresponsive, seeming disconnected from reality as if still trapped in a nightmare.

Then she recalled a conversation with Eric, who had told her that Oliver had witnessed something cruel as a child, and those recurring memories could hit him doubly hard.

And that was when it started.

"Laura, I know you can't stand Eric, but right now, you have to go after him. Something's wrong with Oliver, and I think he can help. Please."

She didn't need to ask again. She saw with her own eyes that Oliver was unraveling. The boy needed help, and since Sara said Eric was necessary, she decided to find him.

Sara approached Oliver, noticing his frantic eyes. Cowering in a corner, he peered around the room, unable to see reality; instead, he created his own images that drove him to this state.

"Oliver…" But the boy didn't react.

"Mom, Dad," he said tearfully, shedding tears. "Don't go away from me. Don't leave me alone. I'm so scared," he whispered, curling his knees to his chest. "I'm afraid of these people. They want to hurt me."

Sara looked thoughtfully at his pale face, wanting him to regain consciousness but afraid to act.

She preferred to wait for Eric.

She lifted her head as Eric rushed into the room, leaving Laura behind. He crouched beside Oliver and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Oli," he said softly, and the boy stopped crying. He stared ahead, relief washing over his face.

"Brother?"

"Yes, I'm here with you."

Sara's eyes widened in amazement.

Had Oliver just called him brother in his dream?

"Brother, get me out of here. They will kill us," he said trembling, taking Eric's hand.

"I won't let anything happen to you. I'll protect you, young one."

Laura blinked, equally shocked. She thought nothing could surprise her anymore in this building, yet the appearance of the psychologist's right hand lifted another layer of mystery.

Eric was Oliver's older brother.

"We can't wake him now. It could be dangerous," Eric said, turning to Sara, who crouched beside them.

"So what's the plan? He's suffering in this dream."

"This isn't an ordinary dream. Oliver is beginning to remember everything—his entire past. But when he wakes, he'll forget the nightmare. It will return gradually until he finally recalls what happened as a child."

"Do we have to wait until he wakes?"

Eric nodded.

"He calmed because he heard my voice. In the dream, he recognizes it as mine, but when he wakes, he'll forget again. You can't tell him anything, do you understand?" He fixed his gaze on Laura, who nodded.

"I don't meddle in family affairs, but now I know why you're both freaked out. You probably inherited it."

"Laura," her friend admonished, so the girl held up her hands, signaling silence.

"I can't now, but I'll get you later, baby," Eric said with an irrepressible glint in his eyes.

Laura wrinkled her nose and mindlessly hit Oliver with a pillow. She covered her face as the boy screamed hysterically, as if being skinned alive. Eric reflexively embraced his brother, trying to ease his pain. Oliver stopped thrashing, and Sara noticed his body stiffen.

He was breathing heavily.

The boy began to wake. With dazed eyes, he looked around, finally noticing someone embracing him.

Only after a while did it dawn on him.

He pushed Eric away, looking at him with clear disgust. He seemed severely confused when he realized he remembered nothing since going to bed.

He put his hand to his forehead and felt sweat. Inside, he was wet and shaky.

"Why am I here? What happened?"

Sara looked at Eric, searching for an answer.

"I came because the girls couldn't handle you. Apparently, you were possessed by one of the ghosts your friend sees," Eric lied, winking at Sara.

"What?" Oliver croaked, swallowing hard.

"Never mind, Oliver. It's okay now."

"I'm not sleeping in the same room with you anymore if you're possessed," he said shakily, rising.

He walked unsteadily to the door, hesitating before grabbing the handle, recalling his earlier dream. He sensed something bad was starting but kept it to himself.

He left the room. Eric closed his eyes and massaged his forehead.

"He guessed something bad is happening, so he came home to be alone."

"How do you know?"

"I just know. Who better to know him than his big brother?"

Eric headed for the exit but didn't leave, looking back at Laura sitting on the bed, eyes wide and clutching a pillow.

He looked like a frightened child.

It was no secret that this was the only young man this brave girl feared.

"What was I talking about earlier? Ah, yes. I warned you I'd get you," he said, pointing at her predatory.

"Can't you see your brother needs help?" she shouted. "Go take care of him instead of sneaking up on me like a leopard."

Sara shook her head at their childish behavior, but Laura needed one since she lost Simon. Matthew hadn't made her laugh. There was no chemistry, and Laura's infatuation had been temporary and misguided.

They had nothing in common. And Eric could say that confidently by observing his colleague. At first, he cared about Laura, but now? When he saw she'd recovered, he lost interest.

Matthew had changed beyond recognition and no longer resembled the wonderful boy who had helped Sara in the early days.

He had succumbed to change, just like Alan.

The worst part was that they'd become friends, casting Oliver aside. He no longer had a buddy he could count on. Matthew had eventually replaced him with Alan.

"Let me go, you perverted scoundrel!" Laura screamed, clinging to Eric's arm. He patted her on the butt, telling her to calm down, which only agitated her more. "If you don't put me down soon, I warn you that you'll regret it bitterly."

Eric ignored her and, leaving the room, turned to Sara.

"I'm going to administer her punishment," he said, stretching his lips into a wide smile. "Your roommate will be back soon."

Laura yelled after him, unconcerned it was the middle of the night and that the building could be particularly dangerous then. She was furious and determined to prove it, disregarding the possibility that the General was hiding behind the wall.

Sara squatted on the bed, carefully scanning the room. Though alone, she sensed a presence; she was convinced someone accompanied her.

A woman emerged from a dark corner. This time, she revealed herself in her true form, no longer pretending to be Sara's grandmother.

"Did you realize it won't help you at all?" she asked boldly, ignoring Sara's stern look. "You take many forms, scaring me from the start, demanding Alan's death. I'm sick of it, do you understand?"

"You will find the peace you desire if you agree to my conditions. The General is not the threat—it's his grandson. He must die. And today."

Sara got off the bed and shook her head.

"Do you think I'll let you do that? This is about Alan!"

"You no longer feel the same for him as before. He hurt you, but you won't admit it to yourself. You don't want him to cease to exist so suddenly because he was your first love…"

"Are you trying to manipulate me with silly talk?" Sara was furious. "Do you think if you talk sense into me, I'll agree to be your vessel?"

"Human lives depend on it. Yours and your friends'. This boy must die."

"He will not die by my hand. I'll never let that happen," she stammered through clenched teeth.

She tried to leave, but the phantom slammed the door in front of her, preventing her escape. Outraged, Sara turned to face it, her heart pounding as she confronted the ghost.

"Since you won't cooperate, I will take over your body by force. Today is the final day. I can wait no longer—even if it causes you immense pain," it threatened, penetrating her body, and then a shrill scream tore from Sara's mouth.

*

Eric nodded right and left, teasing the girl as he continued to block her from leaving. He pressed her against the wall, laughing as she playfully wrinkled her nose and tried to poke him.

"Are you that horny for me?" Laura purred, eyeing his face. Eric puckered his lips as if asking for a kiss, but she pushed his face away.

"Where with that slimy mouth?"

Yet he was relentless. He grabbed her chin with his hand and forced her to kiss him. Laura's eyes widened, and a million thoughts rushed through her mind — most of them ways to kill the pervert. But she didn't act on any; her attention shifted to Sara, whose hair was strangely disheveled as she walked slowly toward the main corridor.

Laura pushed Eric away and pointed at her roommate.

"I'll talk to you later. Something's wrong with my haunted friend."

Eric turned to look at Sara, furrowing his brow as he noticed how odd her steps were. She moved as if paralyzed, her hair covering half her face.

"Don't you think she looks possessed? At this point, I'd say it's like Samara—if the TVs actually worked. She's got some kind of connection to ghosts, right?"

Laura slapped him on the forehead with an open palm, wordlessly chasing after Sara. Eric followed at her heels.

"Sara's walked in her sleep many times before. She even ended up in the underworld once without remembering how she got there."

"See, she's just going to the bathroom. Maybe she just needed to pee—that explains the weird walk?"

Laura ignored his silly remark.

Sara entered the bathroom. Laura was curious about what she was doing there but paused to join her when she heard Sara walking back out. She raised an eyebrow in surprise when she noticed a rubber plunger in Sara's hand. Eric couldn't stand it and burst out laughing, and no matter how many times Laura hit him, he only laughed louder.

"Is she going to strangle someone with that?"

"Pushback," Laura replied.

Sara's hair stood on end as she glanced over her shoulder, but by now it wasn't Sara anymore—it was something else controlling her body.

She ignored the teenagers following her. Her attention focused on the principal's office. She pressed the handle and went inside, slamming the door behind her.

It locked completely.

Laura pressed her ear to the door, trying to hear anything, but the only sound that reached her was a faint melody.

"Can you explain why she needs a rubber plunger?" Eric repeated the question, covering his mouth to suppress laughter.

"She probably intends to strangle the General with it," Laura replied, throwing him a contemptuous glance. "This isn't funny anymore. I don't understand what's happening to her or why she went into that room. I have a bad feeling this could end badly..."

*

Sitting at his desk, the boy lifted his face and pulled his legs off the countertop when he noticed an unexpected visitor in the office.

He studied the teenager, measuring her figure, and lingered on the strange object she carried—a rubber plunger. It was clear to him something was terribly wrong with his girlfriend.

"Sara?" he asked cautiously.

She puffed out her lips, her hair falling over half her face, making her look as if she had risen from a coffin. Her pale complexion and blue lips confirmed that something had taken control of her body.

The girl set the plunger down on the desk, and Alan looked at it with obvious distaste.

"Why did you bring that?"

"Because you're shit," she said with a mocking smile. That smile was definitely not Sara's. "Shit that needs to be eliminated."

"I'm curious which phantom speaks with such intelligence."

"The one who wants to protect her child from you," she said coldly, pulling a pair of scissors from beneath her blouse. "Do you remember that? Do you remember stabbing a man with these?"

Alan massaged his forehead, then crossed his arms, watching the girl with evident weariness in his eyes.

"I have a good memory."

"You'll do it again." Alan furrowed his brow. "You'll kill another man, but I won't let you. I will protect him."

He snorted softly, but concern flickered in his eyes as the phantom pressed the scissors to her neck.

"I know how much this girl means to you. So kill yourself, or I will kill her."