A wet, dragging sound scraped against the linoleum flooring outside. Shhh-clack. Shhh-clack. It was the sound of small, bare feet stepping through a pool of something thick. Then came the humming—a sweet, childlike tune that made the hair on Asuka’s neck stand up.
"And her ," Rumiko choked out, pointing toward the frosted glass of the classroom door.
"We have the left arm," Takahiro whispered, his hands trembling as he gripped a blood-stained bundle. "That’s four pieces. We still need the torso and the head." A wet, dragging sound scraped against the linoleum
But the humming was right behind her ear. A small, cold hand rested on her shoulder. Asuka turned, looking into eyes that were nothing but hollow pits of red.
The grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight, but the sound didn't echo—it thudded, as if the air itself had turned to lead. It was the sound of small, bare feet
Asuka tripped, sliding across the floor. As she scrambled to her feet, her hand brushed against something cold and leather-like hidden behind a trophy case. She pulled it back. It was a torso, stitched with jagged black thread. "I found it!" she screamed.
Asuka stood in the center of the biology lab, her breath hitching in her throat. Beside her, three other students stood in a jagged line, their faces pale under the flickering fluorescent lights. They weren't supposed to be here. Not in the school, and certainly not in this nightmare. "We have the left arm," Takahiro whispered, his
Asuka bolted upright in her bed, gasping for air. Her sheets were soaked with sweat. She checked her phone: