12. The Vanishing Items

The air in Blackwood Academy felt different.

Something unseen lurked in the shadows, creeping between the dormitory halls, pressing against the backs of the guilty. It was not loud or violent. Not yet.

It was subtle. Slow.

A whisper of dread curling around their minds.

And it began with something small.

Damian woke up feeling heavier than usual, as if something pressed against his chest. He had barely slept. The whispers, the writing on the walls—they haunted him.

Still, he pushed the thoughts aside and went about his morning routine, forcing himself to act normal.

He reached for his watch on the nightstand—

It wasn't there.

His fingers touched nothing but the empty wooden surface.

Damian frowned. He always kept it there.

His heartbeat quickened.

His mind immediately tried to reason with itself. Maybe it fell off. Maybe I put it somewhere else.

But deep down, something cold twisted in his stomach.

That watch wasn't just any watch.

It was the same one he had used to time Ethan's beating.

A trophy of his control. A silent mockery of the weak.

And now, it was gone.

He tore through his belongings, frustration bubbling into anger.

"Mason! Ryan!" Damian snapped. "Did one of you take my damn watch?"

Ryan barely looked up from his bed, eyes dull with exhaustion. He hadn't been sleeping well either.

Mason scoffed. "Why the hell would I take your stupid watch?"

But then—

Mason froze.

His hand shot to his pockets, then to the desk, then beneath the bed.

"What the—?"

He stood up so fast his chair screeched against the floor.

"My phone," he muttered. "Where the hell is my phone?"

For the first time in a long time—Damian felt unease settle in his bones.

Because things were disappearing.

One by one.

And they had no idea how.

That evening, the tension was thick. The missing items had put everyone on edge.

Mason tore through his belongings, cursing under his breath. "Someone took it. Someone's messing with me."

Damian didn't answer. He was still thinking about his missing watch.

But it wasn't just their things.

Shoes were moved.

Books fell from shelves when no one was looking.

Little things—small, almost insignificant details—but they were adding up.

Something wasn't right.

And then—

That night, the noises began.

Damian sat up in bed, his body stiff. He hadn't been sleeping well, the words on the wall still flashing in his mind.

But this time—he heard it.

Soft footsteps.

Outside their dorm.

Slow. Deliberate.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Damian's breath caught.

Mason shifted in his bed. "Do you hear that?"

Ryan didn't answer. He was curled up, blanket pulled over his head.

Step.

Step.

Step.

It stopped right outside their door.

Damian swallowed hard.

The doorknob twitched.

A sharp inhale escaped Ryan's lips.

And then—

Silence.

Long. Heavy. Suffocating.

They waited.

One second.

Two seconds.

Five.

Nothing.

Damian exhaled, shoulders tense. He forced out a laugh, though it was hollow.

"See? Probably just—"

Then.

BANG.

A loud knock against the door.

The boys jumped.

Damian's blood turned to ice.

Mason clutched his blanket. "No way. No way. No way."

Damian's throat went dry. They weren't imagining it.

Another knock.

And another.

Then silence.

Damian clenched his fists. He was not weak. He would not cower.

With shaky fingers, he reached for the doorknob—

And yanked the door open.

Nothing.

The hallway was empty.

But something was there.

Because on the floor, lying right at his feet—

Was his missing watch.

A fresh chill crawled up his spine.

His hands trembled as he picked it up.

And then he noticed—

The watch was still ticking.

But now—

The time was exactly the same as the moment Ethan had taken his last breath.

Damian's pulse pounded. He could still hear the faint echoes of Ethan's screams in his mind, that night in the abandoned dormitory.

His fingers curled around the watch.

It wasn't possible.

It couldn't be possible.

Could it?

The next morning, Mason was pale.

His hands shook as he entered the room, phone clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Ryan was still in bed, silent, eyes hollow.

Damian sat up. "What's your problem?"

Mason didn't speak.

He simply held out his phone.

Damian frowned and grabbed it.

The screen was cracked. That wasn't the worst part.

The worst part—

Was the video playing on loop.

It was the night they had beaten Ethan.

Damian's stomach twisted.

The grainy footage showed them laughing. Kicking. Beating. The sound of flesh hitting flesh. Ethan's cries—weak, broken, desperate.

Then—the final blow.

Ethan's body falling limp.

Silence.

Damian felt sick.

Mason's voice trembled. "I didn't record this. I swear to god, I didn't record this."

His lips trembled. "But someone did."

Damian clenched his jaw.

His grip on the phone tightened.

Then—

The screen flickered.

The video glitched.

And suddenly—

The last frame changed.

Instead of Ethan lying lifeless on the floor—

The screen showed something else.

A message.

Written in blood-red letters.

Just like the walls.

"YOU THINK THIS IS OVER?"

Mason dropped the phone like it burned him.

Damian's breath hitched.

Ryan started sobbing quietly into his pillow.

The air around them felt heavier.

Because they all knew.

Something was coming for them.

And it wasn't going to stop.

Ethan stood outside their window, watching.

He didn't need to be inside the room to feel their fear.

He could taste it.

The way Damian's fingers trembled as he gripped the phone.

The way Mason's shoulders shook as he tried to make sense of the impossible.

The way Ryan—so weak, so fragile—was already breaking.

Good.

Ethan's lips curled into a slow, cruel smile.

They thought they were untouchable.

They thought they would never pay.

But now—

They would lose everything.

And this—

Was only the beginning.