Chapter 15: Whispers in the Dark: “Some secrets are guarded by the living… but others are protected by the dead.”

The air inside the principal's office was heavy with the scent of aged paper and stale perfume. The thick blinds filtered the late afternoon sun, casting eerie shadows along the walls. The atmosphere felt oppressive, as if something unseen loomed just beyond their perception.

Principal Sombat Anantrakul sat stiffly behind his polished mahogany desk, his fingers adjusting the golden brooch pinned to his crisp shirt. He regarded the students standing before him with an expression of quiet authority, though there was something else beneath it—something wary.

"What do you want, again? " He asked coolly.

Tan took a deep breath, stepping forward. "We found records, Principal. About Kanya… about Kanokwan… about Naree Chaiyakan...about you."

His fingers twitched against the desk, but he showed no sign of alarm. "Students should not meddle in things they do not understand, I warned you, " he said, his voice even, though a trace of something else—a warning—lingered beneath his words.

"We just want the truth, the real truth" Meen pressed. "Why were their records hidden? What really happened to them? "

A long silence stretched between them. Principal Sombat Anantrakul exhaled slowly, leaning forward with a weary expression.

"Some stories," he murmured, "are better left untold."

Pim clenched her fists. "You mean covered up."

For the first time, something flickered across the principal's face—not anger, not authority… but fear.

Before he could respond—

The air shifted.

A cold, unnatural gust of wind swept through the room, even though the windows were shut.

And then—

A scream echoed from outside.

---

The group rushed out of the office, the principal following behind, his usually composed face now pale.

Students had gathered near the stairwell, the same same place as Supanida Chansir's accident, their faces frozen in shock and terror.

At the center of the chaos, a girl—Ben, Benjawan Songpaisan, a quiet sophomore—was thrashing against the air, as if something unseen had grabbed her.

Her body jerked violently, her arms twisting at unnatural angles, her feet hovering inches above the ground.

Her mouth stretched open in a silent scream, eyes rolled back into her head.

And then, dark bruises began to bloom on her arms and legs—finger-shaped bruises.

Meen gasped. "Something's holding her! "

Tan took a step forward, but before he could react—

Ben was flung backwards.

Her body slammed into the wall, hard enough to crack the plaster. The impact sent a sickening jolt through the hallway.

She collapsed to the floor, motionless.

For a second, the world stood still.

Then—

Every light in the hallway exploded.

Shattered glass rained down. The fluorescent bulbs flickered wildly, sending bursts of erratic light across the scene.

The students screamed, pushing back, scrambling to get away.

And then, in the midst of the chaos, a whisper slithered through the air.

A voice. Soft, distant, but unmistakable, like that of the previous night.

"Leave it alone."

And then—silence.

---

The hallway was in shambles. Teachers rushed to Ben's side, trying to wake her. Some students sobbed, others whispered frantically among themselves.

Principal Sombat Anantrakul stood still, his eyes dark, unreadable. Then, slowly, he turned to the five.

"This is what happens," he said softly, "when you don't listen."

Praew swallowed hard. "You knew this would happen, didn't you? "

The principal met her gaze. "I warned you."

Meen's stomach twisted. The principal wasn't threatening them. He was pleading with them.

Ploy looked at the unconscious Ben, then back at the principal.

"We're not stopping."

The principal closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. Then he murmured something under her breath—a prayer.

Finally, he turned and walked away, leaving them standing in the wreckage.

But before he disappeared around the corner, he said one last thing:

"If you don't stop now… you won't make it to graduation."

---

Determined to uncover more, the group continued their search. This time, they focused on the old storeroom , which was directly opposite of the stairwell, where they had first discovered the eerie porcelain doll.

"I don't get it," Meen said as they pried open an old cabinet. "Why would a doll be locked away like this? "

Then, Pim noticed something beneath the layers of dust and discarded furniture—a faint outline of musical notes carved into the wooden floorboards.

"Wait…" she murmured, running her fingers over the markings. "This used to be a music room."

Tan's eyes widened. "That means… the doll wasn't just some random item stored here. It belonged here."

Praew shuddered. "Then why was it hidden? "

Ploy replied seeming confused," Maybe the principal knows the answer to that _"

Before anyone could answer, a soft melody filled the air.

It was coming from nowhere.

And yet, the sound was unmistakable—a piano playing in the distance.

---

That night, the eerie melody returned.

The students had gathered near the abandoned hallway, following the ghostly sound.

The notes were sorrowful, haunting, echoing through the empty corridors.

Then—a faint glow appeared.

On the floor, just outside the old storeroom, lay a yellowed music sheet.

Meen picked it up carefully. "This… this looks ancient."

Pim read the faded title. "A Song for You."

Her blood ran cold.

"This song… was written by Kanokwan, for her class of spirits and her prey."

---

Determined to communicate with the spirit, Naree Chaiyakan, Meen insisted on performing a ritual.

"This might be our only chance to get real answers," he reasoned, setting up a circle of salt and candles in the old music room.

The others exchanged hesitant glances but eventually agreed.

Ploy placed the music sheet in the center. Then, he closed his eyes and whispered an incantation, calling out to Naree Chaiyakan's spirit.

At first, nothing happened.

Then—the temperature dropped.

The candle flames flickered violently.

And then—

The piano played by itself.

A single, slow note.

Then another.

And another.

Until suddenly—

BANG!

The piano lid slammed shut, sending a shockwave through the room.

The windows shattered. The door slammed shut on its own.

A deafening scream erupted from nowhere—a wail of pure anguish and fury.

Then, a voice, venomous and filled with sorrow:

"You don't understand. You never will."

The candles snuffed out at once, plunging them into total darkness.

---

Terrified but more determined than ever, the group searched deeper.

In the school's archives , hidden behind stacks of forgotten paperwork, they found it—another old diary.

The name written inside made Pim's breath catch.

Kanokwan.

The entries spoke of love and betrayal.

Kanokwan had loved a boy—a boy who loved someone else.

That someone else was Kanya.

A girl Kanokwan had trusted. A girl she thought was her best friend.

But the final entries took a darker turn.

" Kanya stole everything from me. "

"She took what was mine."

" She must pay for what she did."

The last line was smudged, almost unreadable, as if written with a shaking hand.

" Even if I have to take her to the grave with me."

---

"The warning had been given. The next time, they might not be so lucky."