First Meeting in Room 11-B

(Miles’s POV)

I was running for my life.

Literally.

The second I stepped into the old building, the silence hit me like a slap. The lights flickered, the air felt thick, and every creak of the floor made my imagination run faster than my legs.

By the time I reached the third floor, I was gasping like a fish out of water.

“Why—do—horror—stairs—have—so many—steps?!” I wheezed, clutching the railing for dear life.

The hallway stretched ahead of me like something straight out of a ghost movie — long, dim, and covered in dust. The air smelled like old paper and regret.

“Okay, Miles,” I muttered between breaths, slapping my cheeks lightly. “You’re a tough . Ghosts fear you.”

My voice echoed down the corridor. I instantly regretted it.

Then, I spotted it — at the very end of the hall, a door with a crooked number plate:

> Room 11-B.

“Finally!” I groaned, dragging myself forward. “If I die of asthma before class even starts, I swear—”

I reached the door, pushed it open, and—

“AAAAAHHH!”

There was a figure by the window. Pale. Still. Not moving.

I screamed so loud I think I woke the entire building.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL—GHOST?!”

“WHAT THE HELL?!” the figure screamed back at me, spinning around.

We both yelled at the same time, voices overlapping like an off-key duet:

> “SHT!”

“HOLY FCK!”

We both froze.

The “ghost” wasn’t floating.

She wasn’t see-through either.

Just a human girl — messy hair, crumpled uniform, eyes wide with the same fear I was feeling.

There was a beat of silence — then, somehow, we both started laughing.

The kind of half-hysterical laugh that only comes from mutual trauma.

“Holy crap,” I said, clutching my chest. “You almost made me pee myself.”

Jude:“Same,” she huffed, brushing her hair out of her face. “I thought you were some possessed janitor or something.”

I snorted. “A possessed janitor? Wow, thanks. That’s flattering.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “What are you doing here anyway?”

I grinned, still catching my breath. “ apparently. I’m Miles — section 11-B.”

She blinked, lowering her guard a little. “Jude. 11-B too.”

I tilted my head, smirking. “Oh? So we’re classmates. Great. You can scream with me when the ghosts come ”

She gave me a deadpan look. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I prefer the term fun,” I said, winking.

Before she could reply, something heavy thudded in the hallway — like a chair being dragged.

We both jumped.

Our eyes darted to the door. It was still half-open.

Then — creeeaak.

The doorknob twisted slowly.

Without thinking, Jude stepped closer to me. I glanced down at her, whispering, “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” she muttered.

The door creaked open wider.

Both of us braced ourselves… only for a crumpled piece of paper to flutter inside, carried by the wind.

It landed between our feet.

Jude crouched first, picking it up carefully.

The handwriting was messy, rushed — and the words made my skin crawl.

> "Mga Bobo"

Our laughter died instantly.

We stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“…You saw that too, right?” I whispered.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“Cool,” I said faintly. “Because if another paper appear again, I’m jumping out the window.”

Jude:" Don't worry bro I'll help to jump in the window

"Ill jump with you"

(Author’s POV )

A sleek white car rolled to a stop in front of the gate. The driver quickly stepped out and opened the back door.

Out came Kim Akihara — tall, poised, and effortlessly pretty, the kind of girl who looked like she belonged on magazine covers rather than a noisy schoolyard. Her black hair shimmered faintly under the morning light, her uniform perfectly pressed, and her shoes shone as if she’d polished them twice.

She adjusted her bag strap and inhaled deeply. “Another year,” she murmured to herself.

She glanced around. Everyone looked cheerful, but whenever someone looked at her and then whispered to their friends, she could hear snippets:

> “She’s in that section?”

“11-B? Bro, that’s the creepy one.”

“I heard it’s in the old building—like, way behind the gym!”

Kim frowned slightly but ignored them. Gossip never scared her. She just wanted to know where she was supposed to go.

She made her way toward the bulletin board, weaving through the crowd of students shouting out their names.

The crowd around the bulletin board buzzed with energy — laughter, complaints, and a few frustrated groans as students found out which section they’d been placed in.

Kim Akihara stood silently among them, her posture straight, her uniform immaculate. She had that calm presence that drew eyes without her even trying. Her Black hair fell neatly over her shoulders, and her sharp eyes scanned the posted list one more time.

> Akihara, Kim — 11-B

Room: Old Building, Third Floor.

Her brows furrowed slightly. “Old building?” she murmured.

She’d been in this school for years, but she’d never once set foot in that part of campus. People joked about it being haunted, or used for detention, but she always assumed it was just a rumor.

She exhaled, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Great. First day, and I’m already in a horror movie setting.”

With that, she turned on her heel and began walking away — quiet, graceful, and unbothered by the noise behind her.

But she didn’t notice that someone else had just stopped a few steps away, staring at the same list with an expression of disbelief.

Nacey Ryu was not the type to blend in anywhere.

her loose necktie, and the lazy smirk she always wore made her stand out instantly. She tapped her finger against the glass, staring at her name on the list.

> Ryu, Nacey — 11-B

Room: Old Building, Third Floor.

“11-B? What the hell is that?” she muttered, half-laughing. “Did they seriously put me in the building everyone avoids? Wow, thanks, universe.”

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and turned around, just in time to see Kim walking away.

Kim was already walking far ahead, not once looking back.

Nacey walk too, smirking. “We’ll see who survives the haunted hallway first.”

The path toward the back of the campus was quiet — too quiet compared to the lively main grounds.

Kim walked steadily, her shoes clicking softly against the pavement. The trees rustled gently, shadows swaying across the ground. She could still hear faint laughter from the other buildings, but here, everything felt… different.

She passed by the side of the gymnasium, where the hall stretched long and slightly darker. The smell of old wood and chalk hung in the air.

And then, behind her, footsteps echoed.

Fast. Confident. Slightly heavy.

She didn’t turn around — not until someone called out.

“Wait!”

Kim stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

Nacey jogged up a few steps, panting lightly. “Hey, you—uh,”

Kim blinked, her tone cool but polite. “Yes. Why?”

Nacey shoved her hands into her pockets, catching her breath. “Just asking where you’re going.”

Kim tilted her head. “To my classroom. 11-B.”

That made Nacey pause — then laugh softly. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Nacey grinned. “Well, would you look at that? We’re classmates.”

Kim’s brows lifted slightly. “You’re also in 11-B?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nacey said, feigning a dramatic sigh. “I thought I was the only one cursed to study in a haunted building, but looks like fate gave me company.”

Kim’s lips twitched — the smallest hint of a smile. “That’s one way to describe it.”

They fell into step beside each other, neither really saying they’d walk together — but somehow, they did.

The gym’s hallway stretched behind them as they made their way toward the rear of the school. Their footsteps echoed, mixing with the distant hum of cicadas.

“So,” Nacey said casually after a few seconds, “you’re not new here, right?”

Kim shook her head. “No. Been here since junior high. You?”

“Same,” Nacey replied. “Just didn’t expect to be thrown into this mystery class thing.”

“Mystery class?”

“That’s what people call it,” Nacey said. “No one ever talks about 11-B. Some say it’s for the ‘special cases.’”

Kim raised an eyebrow. “Special as in... troublemakers?”

Nacey smirked. “Exactly my type of people.”

Kim rolled her eyes, but there was a faint warmth in her expression now.

They turned the corner, and for the first time, they both saw it — the old building standing quietly behind the gym.

The paint was peeling, vines curling up the cracked walls, windows dusty and dark.

“...So it’s real,” Kim said softly.

“Yup,” Nacey replied. “Our lovely new home.”

She nudged Kim lightly with her elbow. “Don’t worry, Princess. If ghosts pop up, I’ll protect you.”

Kim gave her a side glance. “How brave of you, considering you’ll probably scream first.”

Nacey grinned. “We’ll see.”

And together — one calm and collected, the other loud and reckless — they stepped toward the old building, unaware that two others were already inside, waiting to scream their heads off at the next person who dared open that creaking door.

They began walking toward the back of the campus together — not planned, just naturally falling into step.

At first, neither spoke. The path grew quieter the farther they went. The laughter and chatter from the main building faded, replaced by the hum of cicadas and the crunch of gravel under their shoes.

The old building slowly came into view — faded paint, vines creeping up the walls, and windows clouded with dust.

“...So this is it,” Nacey said, stopping to take it in. “Our classroom of doom.”

Kim adjusted her bag. “You really like exaggerating things, don’t you?”

“Only when they’re true,” Nacey replied with a grin.

They started walking up the stairs. Each step groaned, echoing through the empty halls. Kim held onto the railing, careful and composed, while Nacey walked ahead, humming a tune.

“You don’t seem nervous,” Kim observed.

“Scared? Nah,” Nacey said, glancing back at her. “I’ve seen worse. Besides, you’re here. You look like someone who carries holy water in her bag.”

Kim rolled her eyes, hiding a small laugh. “I don’t.”

They reached the third floor. The hallway stretched long and dim, the air colder than below. Dust danced in the shafts of light that streamed through broken windows.

Nacey whistled low. “Okay, maybe a little creepy.”

Kim stayed quiet, scanning the numbers on the doors until they stopped at one with a half-hanging plate that read:

Room 11-B.

“This is it,” Kim said softly.

“Guess we made it,” Nacey said, but her voice was quieter now.

They exchanged a glance — not fear exactly, but that nervous excitement that comes right before something unexpected happens.

Nacey reached for the handle. “Ready?”

Kim sighed. “Just open it.”

The door creaked — slowly, loudly — like something that hadn’t been moved in years.

Light spilled into the classroom, illuminating two familiar figures already standing inside.

(Miles) was rubbing her chest, still out of breath from running.

Another — Jude — stood near the window, looking equally shocked.