The stench of smoke still lingered in the air from the funeral pyres, and Emo couldn’t shake the oppressive weight that settled on her chest. So many had died—her homeroom teacher, the Dean, orphanage head Takahashi, Cabell Tatsuko, and Mikatsu Rena. Five lives snuffed out. Five deaths that had been foretold. The student council had known that this blood debt would be paid in full, but the question that clawed at their souls was whether this was truly something to be thankful for.

No more deaths. Was this really a respite? Emo thought about it every day, haunted by the faces of the dead and the torment of their final moments. Midterms were fast approaching, yet her mind was consumed by a far darker test—one she wasn’t sure any of them could survive.

Climbing the stairs to the 9-B council room, Emo felt her pulse quicken. Her fingers grazed the posters that lined the entrance, showcasing the band’s accomplishments, a testament to their once-vibrant club. It was a bright, hopeful display, a fresh idea amidst the usual mundane council activities. But now, all of it seemed meaningless. Empty.

The deaths had cast a shadow so large that the joy they had once felt seemed like a distant dream. Emo had known about the incidents plaguing the school, the dark history whispered through the halls, yet she’d been naive enough to hope this year would be different. It had been quiet for two months after all. Two months of peace since the semester had started. Surely, if something was going to happen, it would have started right away like the previous years.

But she was wrong.

So very wrong.

She slid the wooden door open and stepped inside the familiar room. Everything was as it had been for months—neatly arranged, the way they liked it. Yet it felt suffocating now, like the walls were pressing in on her. The air itself was thick, making it hard to breathe.

She moved to the window and grabbed the sill, staring blankly outside. The sky was a dull gray, matching the weight in her chest. The wind ruffled the curtain, sweeping her hair across her face. She didn’t mind. She just needed something to break the heavy silence. That’s when her gaze landed on Alvia, walking on the ground below.

"Alvia...?" she muttered, her voice barely a whisper.

Something was wrong. Emo narrowed her eyes, focusing on her friend. Alvia’s movements became erratic, her body stumbling before collapsing onto the ground. Emo’s heart skipped a beat as she watched in growing horror. Alvia’s limbs began to twist and jerk unnaturally, her eyes rolling back as if possessed. Her mouth foamed, the white froth dripping down her chin, staining her uniform. From her vantage point on the first floor, Emo could see everything clearly—too clearly.

Her breath caught in her throat as Alvia’s body contorted violently, her head snapping back. She clawed at her own neck, letting out an unearthly screech that made Emo’s blood run cold. The sound pierced the air, reverberating off the walls of the courtyard, sending a shiver down Emo’s spine.

Then Alvia’s eyes locked onto Emo. Even from where she stood, Emo could see the terror, the pleading desperation in those eyes.

"Help me..." Alvia mouthed the words over and over, her voice barely audible but filled with unimaginable pain.

Emo’s body moved before her mind could process. She had to help her friend. She had to do something. Impulse drove her to jump off the window, her hand gripping the frame as she prepared to leap out. But just as she swung one leg over the ledge, the window slammed shut with a deafening bang, nearly crushing her fingers as she instinctively pulled her leg in.

The room plunged into darkness.

A gust of wind howled through the room, fierce and cold, swirling around Emo. The curtain flapped violently, and the force of the wind sent her hair whipping in all directions. Panic gripped her. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself as the gale intensified, shaking the walls of the room.

She felt a cold pressure on her shoulder.

Her heart stopped.

Trembling, she glanced sideways out of the corner of her eye. Her pulse hammered in her throat as she caught sight of a figure standing behind her, a girl with long, black hair matted over her face. The strands were tangled, filthy, and hid her features, but Emo could feel the malevolent presence radiating from her.

Emo was paralyzed with fear. She couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. Her entire body was frozen, locked in place as if the weight of the girl’s hand was draining the life from her.

Then, the girl spoke, her voice a low, sinister hiss, the words crawling through Emo’s ears like poison.

"It’s your fault... It’s all your fault. You called me here... and now, I will take what’s mine."

The voice was cold, inhuman. Emo’s breath hitched in her throat, her knees threatening to buckle. Her mind screamed at her to run, but her body refused to respond.

Suddenly, the girl screeched. It was the sound of raw, unfiltered pain and anger—a sound that made Emo’s skin crawl. Then the girl appeared in front of Emo, her hair flew back, revealing her face.

Emo gasped in horror.

The girl’s face was disfigured, twisted beyond recognition. Scars ran jaggedly across her pale skin, her lips grotesquely carved open, revealing rows of broken, blood-stained teeth. Her eyes were wide, bloodshot, and vacant, pools of madness and rage.

The screech grew louder, more deafening. Emo stumbled backward, her back slamming against the window. She could feel the glass cutting into her skin, but the pain was distant. Her mind was consumed by terror.

She turned, frantically pounding on the window, desperate to escape. Her fists slammed against the glass, but it wouldn’t budge.

The lights flickered erratically, casting the room into chaotic flashes of light and shadow. Water began to pool at her feet, rising rapidly until the floor was submerged. At the corners of the room, flames erupted, licking at the walls, but the center remained a pool of water, the two elements coexisting in some unnatural horror.

The window shattered.

Glass shards rained down, slicing into her skin, her hands bleeding profusely. Emo screamed, the sound finally escaping her throat. And then, as quickly as it had started, everything stopped.

The fire was gone. The water vanished. The broken glass was replaced with an intact pane. The window was open. And the girl—the monstrous figure—had disappeared.

Emo collapsed to the floor, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her heart was still pounding, her chest tight with fear.

A knock echoed from the door.

"Emo! Emo-san! Emo!" Jetto’s voice called out from the other side.

But Emo couldn’t move. She couldn’t even bring herself to respond. Her mind was still trapped in the nightmare that had unfolded before her eyes.

"It’s not over... It’s not over..." she whispered, her voice shaking as the knock continued.