Ralph stopped after more than twenty minutes of running. He was well-known for his stamina, but he never thought he could run this much. He leaned on the wall to rest a little, pants escaped his now-exhausted lungs. To be honest, he didn't even expect himself to be this frightened, even if it was just a game. But, after all, they were playing it at midnight, and the house was dark, so he had valid reasons to be scared. Ralph also didn't think Jack's house would be this huge. It was already a gigantic mansion, and the complicated halls with their turns and corners made it seem even bigger.

He always knew the Merridews were rich, but they couldn't be this rich.

Thoughts aside, Ralph dug inside his shirt pocket to find his phone. It couldn't have been that Roger was possessed. He liked all kinds of creepy stuff, so it was only natural that he would pretend so that he could scare people. It was Halloween, so Ralph let him have his way. Maybe the scream he had heard just now was only Roger trying to frighten everybody.

It was fortunate for Ralph that Jack's house had complete wifi coverage, or else he would die of boredom. He turned the phone on, seeing that he already had a screen full of notifications from his Instagram and Facebook. There were also a few messages from the girls he was hitting on for fun. As it turned out, Tinder wasn't a bad way to entertain himself. Ralph typed in his passcode and went to the Instagram app. He ignored all the comments saying that he was good-looking on some of his selfies, only replying to the interesting ones that were usually Jack's. The ginger always knew how to turn his jealousy into humor, and Ralph couldn't help that he looked better than Jack. He chuckled at some of the comments of the creepy girls who "shipped" him and Jack together, thinking of how ridiculous it would be if it happened in real life, which it wouldn't. They were both straight guys, and they knew it. He scrolled down the screen with his thumb , and his eyes glanced pass the time on top of the screen.

It said 0:00.

But it couldn't be saying that, since they started playing the game at exactly midnight. Ralph thought that maybe he was just too scared and had started hallucinating, then rubbed his eyes. He looked at the screen again.

It stayed the same.

There was something wrong with the game.

Adrenaline pumped into his blood as Ralph ran as fast as he could to the first floor. The stairs were unusually steep, and they made him almost trip over for a few times. His feet stepped into some liquid, but he had no time to consider what it was, and he didn't think he wanted to know, either. He started breathing out from his mouth the more he ran, and when he had reached the bottom floor, his lungs were burning with needs for air. He doubled over and started panting. Sweat rolled down from his forehead, but it seemed like the heating system in the Merridew's mansion had been turned off a long time ago.

Ralph approached the back door just to check on it, even though his legs were shaking tremendously. He was pretty sure he didn't believe in the "disembody then leave it at the door" part of the story at first, but as he saw it, he couldn't even convince himself it was only his brain anymore. They were right there, as vivid as ever, in the cold moonlight. The tangy, iron scent made its way to his nostrils, entangling itself with his smell receptors, making some of his recent dinner crawl back up his esophagus. Red trails followed individual body parts to where they piled up in front of the back door, blocking the exit. Limbs were on top of each other, dripping blood down to the floor. Glop. Glop. Glop.

There was a head on top of them all.

At least Ralph knew where Simon went now.

He slowly stepped back, trying to ignore the fact that he had just stepped on some of the red liquid that used to be in his friend's body. His heart started beating faster, and so did his lungs that were trying to take in air. And the scent grew stronger as he inhaled it more. Some of his dinner was sloshing around in his mouth now, and Ralph had to swallow them back down, but he couldn't. His sweaty palms quivered as he ran to the front door, where everyone decided to meet up if this happened. He fumbled with the flashlight as he tried to shine its weak light to his path. The door was just a few feet away. Ralph felt a tinge of hope and sprinted to it. And, as he bumped to the wooden surface, his hand frantically reached for the knob, twisting and turning it even though sweat was pouring more out from his palms. There was nothing chasing him, but he knew there was something watching, scrutinizing his every move.

The door was locked.

Ralph slowly shook his head. It couldn't be– No, no, no, no. They had all agreed to leave the door open, in case of emergency, so why was it locked? The only reasonable explanation was the one he chose not to think of, but there were no other options, now, but to believe it. The Midnight Man was real.

As he backed away, Ralph's feet kicked into something soft. His heel dug into the squishy material, and there was also a liquid of some sort. He didn't want to know what it was, but had no other choice, as he had already turned around. His flickering flashlight was shone on it, and, immediately, Ralph threw up his dinner. He bent over as the content of his stomach poured out from his mouth, and the brown, still opening eyes of his friend stared at him sickeningly, provoking him to throw up more. His vomit spread on the floor, reaching to and oozing on Maurice's dark brown hair. The blonde shut his eyes, trying not to look at his friend in the eye and straighted his body, wiping the remains of his dinner on his sleeve. The flashlight in his hand was flickering, and soon, it would be out of battery.

The smell of a rotten corpse filled his lungs.

"Shh.." Someone was shushing behind his back. Ralph's shoulder shook as he stiffened, feeling cold hands on his neck and nails trailing down his spine. "Can't you see they're sleeping. Screaming won't do any good." Sharp edges dug down his skin as Ralph's breaths accelerated. His body was still stiff, and he couldn't even run if he wanted to. "Besides, no one can hear you anyway."

Like a sudden burst of energy, Ralph darted away and started heading towards the hall to his left. His flashlight's battery was out, so he threw it away, and, instead, used his phone's flashlight. The hall was dark and cold, but there was a light switch at the end, and maybe switching the lights on would help him somewhat. His breath was ragged as he opened his phone again and searched through his contact to find Jack. He needed to call him.

[The subscriber you have called is not available. Please try again later.]

Ralph ended the call as he leaned on the wall at the end of the hall. Why? Why the fuck wasn't Jack available? He turned to his left and saw the light switch. His hand quickly reached up to it and pressed on it, but the lights didn't turn on.

The lights. Didn't. Turn. On.

As if in a frenzy, Ralph repeatedly pressed on the light switch. There were no signs of the lights turning on, which was what he needed. The blonde searched through his contacts again, trying to find anyone he could call for help. He pressed in Piggy's number and held the phone to his ear, teeth biting at his lips as he waited.

[The subscriber you have called is not available. Please try again–]

His palms were drenched in sweat as he scrolled down for another number. Sam?

[The subscriber you have called is not available. Please–]

Eric?

[The subscriber you have–]

Robert?

[The subscriber you–]

Mom?

[The subs–]

Dad?

[The–]

911?

"911, what's your emergency?" A woman on the other side answered the call. Ralph let out a sigh of relief as he leaned onto the wall again, uneven breaths filled the phone's speaker. "Hel–"

She was cut off. Ralph's eyes widened in shock as he took the phone away from his ear. It had been overheated from the flashlight it was using. He looked in disbelief at the signal sign, seeing the letters No signal. It couldn't be. Jack's house wasn't even that far from the city. And the signal was strong the last minute. So why–

A face appeared in front of his eyes.

Ralph gasped at the scent of the disintegrating flesh. Spots of red flesh stained the ghostly pale face, and white larva were digging their way out of the host. They wriggled out and crawled on the ragged skin, some of them falling out of the host and roamed aimlessly on the floor. The eyes were black, pitch black, opaquely black, like an endless void that sucked every miserable soul inside and fed on them. Ralph's eyes were diverted to behind the body's – that wasn't Roger anymore– back.

"Oh this?" The pallid hand raised up, seeming to have no trouble with a heavy-looking object. Ralph fliched as the cold and sharp edge touched his arm. The chain made a clanking sound as it collided with the metal of the blade. It was a chainsaw.

The blonde felt his chest heaving and falling with every heavy breath. Roger was much shorter than him, but that wasn't Roger. Roger didn't decapitate people and his skin didn't decompose and there weren't maggots crawling out of him. The two corners of the mouth stretched out to form a grin that was so wide it showed a complete set of nauseatingly white teeth and eyes.

Eyes. Staring.

Ralph broke free to run away again. He didn't want to turn back, even though he knew The Midnight Man didn't need to chase to get him. In his ears reverberated the sounds of the chainsaw being turned on. Vrmm.

Vrmm.

Vrmm.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He knew he needed to find Jack, but he didn't know where. He only knew that the redhead had headed for the west wing of the house, so he went there, the sound of the chainsaw still following him. One minute it was close, the other it sounded faded and far away. Ralph ran up the stairs. This mansion couldn't be this large, and maybe if he yelled, Jack would hear him and come to help. So he yelled Jack as loud as possible, ignoring the entity that could be anywhere in this place, and ignoring the fact that the person he was looking for might not even be alive anymore. His lungs were on fire, but he wanted to live. His voice went hoarse from screaming, and he wished that damn asshole would just appear right away like some Deus ex Machina, or at least had a smaller house. And right when he was about to give up screaming, he shone his flashlight into the mop of curly red hair at the end of the hall. All Ralph needed to do now was reach to Jack.

But that was his last thought, before the chainsaw jammed itself in his stomach. The sound of the engine and his internal organs sloshing around the body mixed together, creating a sick and twisted ballad under the cold moonlight. Red splashed all over the moon's silver surface, staining it with its rusty stench. The chainsaw's blade was dragged down, separating Ralph's abdomen in half. The limp body fell down, guts and intestines spilled out like the filling of a pie. The chainsaw stabbed into the body again, and dragged itself up, dividing the upper body into uneven halves before stopping at the neck. The head was special, so it needed to stay in one piece. The blade stabbed down one last time, disembodying the head.

The Midnight Man pulled Ralph's phone away from his hand. He opened the camera and took a photo of his handy work. Using Ralph's Instagram account, he posted the photo.