Chapter 4 – The Place That Shouldn’t Exist

The staircase stretched downward into a suffocating darkness.

Each step felt endless, the air thickening the deeper I went. I tried to count them, to hold onto some sense of reality—ten, twenty, thirty… but at some point, I lost track. The sound of my own footsteps felt distant, like I was walking through a dream.

Or maybe… a nightmare.

The school shouldn't have a basement. I had been here for years, walked these halls a thousand times. This staircase wasn't supposed to exist.

And yet, I kept going.

Because something was waiting for me.

---

The Door

At the bottom of the stairs stood a single, rusted door.

The metal was corroded, streaked with something dark. A small window sat at the top, too fogged to see through. My fingers trembled as I reached out, pressing against the surface.

It was warm.

Like something was breathing behind it.

For the first time, fear wrapped around my throat, tight and suffocating. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to turn back.

But then—

A whisper.

"You're late."

My breath caught in my throat. The voice was behind me.

I turned.

Nothing.

Just the stairs, stretching back into a darkness that seemed much, much deeper than before.

I turned back to the door.

It was open.

---

The Room of Forgotten Things

The air inside was wrong.

Not cold, not warm—just empty. As if something had drained all life from it.

I stepped forward. My shoes made no sound against the concrete floor.

The room was small, lined with shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, each one stuffed with objects that shouldn't be here.

A single white sneaker, stained with something dark.

A half-burned notebook, the edges curling inward like rotten flesh.

A cracked phone, its screen frozen on a text message.

A school ID, the name scratched out.

And then—

I saw it.

On the very last shelf, tucked between a broken umbrella and a rusted key—a framed photo.

My heart stopped.

I recognized the people in it.

Our class.

We were standing in front of the school, smiling awkwardly in our uniforms. The date in the bottom corner marked it as this year's opening ceremony.

But something was wrong.

Someone had been blurred out.

Their face, their body—completely erased.

I didn't need to ask who it was.

It was Matsuda.

The boy who had spoken Rika's name.

The boy who had vanished.

I stepped back, my pulse pounding in my ears. This wasn't possible.

Someone had erased him. Not just from the classroom. From everything.

A slow, creeping horror curled around my ribs.

I turned the photo over.

There was something written on the back, scrawled in messy, desperate handwriting.

A single sentence.

"Don't say their names."

A chill raced down my spine.

Then, from the darkness behind me—

A soft breath.

"You found it."

I froze.

That voice.

I turned.

Rika stood in the doorway, her eyes glinting in the dim light.

She wasn't smiling anymore.

"Now you have to play the game," she whispered.

And the door slammed shut.

---

The Game

The lights flickered.

The air grew heavier, pressing against my chest. My vision blurred, the edges of the room warping like a melting photograph.

I stumbled backward. "What—what do you mean, game?"

Rika took a step closer.

"You shouldn't have come here," she said softly. "But since you did… you have to follow the rules."

Her head tilted slightly, her dark hair shifting over her shoulder.

"Rule number one," she whispered. "Once you enter, you can't leave until the game is over."

The weight in my chest tightened.

"Rule number two." Her voice was almost gentle. "Don't say their names."

A horrible realization crept over me.

This wasn't the first time someone had found this place.

And they had all been erased.

I took a shaky step back. "Rika… what is this place?"

She didn't answer.

Instead, she turned her head slightly—as if listening to something I couldn't hear.

And then she whispered, "They're coming."

The shelves rattled.

The air grew thick with the sound of distant, distorted voices.

And from the darkness—something began to crawl.

I ran.

---

The Thing That Follows

The walls stretched, warping and twisting as I sprinted for the door. The floor felt too soft beneath my feet, like I was running across flesh.

Behind me, the whispers grew louder.

I didn't dare look back.

I grabbed the door handle and pulled. It wouldn't budge.

I yanked harder. The rusted metal groaned, twisted—then snapped. The door wasn't locked anymore.

It was sealed.

My pulse pounded against my skull. The whispers turned into screams.

Then—a hand grabbed my wrist.

Cold. Too many fingers. The grip too tight, too strong.

I screamed, jerking away. My vision blurred. Dark shapes moved in the corners of the room.

They weren't human.

They had never been human.

I turned back to Rika, desperation choking my voice. "How do I stop this?"

She stared at me for a long moment. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—

"Forget."

The world cracked.

And everything went black.

---

Waking Up

I woke up in my bed.

The barricade was still in place. My room was untouched.

For a moment, I thought it had all been a dream.

But then I turned over—and saw the photo on my desk.

The class picture.

Matsuda was gone.

And this time…

So was I.