Chapter 3: Terms of Survival

A suffocating, dead silence filled the room—a weight so heavy it felt as though it would tear my eardrums after the echoes of my panicked scream finally dissolved into the void.

I stood completely frozen, my back pressed hard against the concrete surface of the teacher's podium. My hands clamped tightly around the heavy, leather booklet, pressing it against my chest like a final shield separating me from this spectral entity. Inside my head, a frantic, terrified hysteria was shouting: (What kind of nightmare is this?! Please, Da-in, don't shake right now... if you show a single sliver of vulnerability before this thing, you are finished in a second!)

Yet, on the outside, I forced every muscle in my face to harden into an unreadable mask of absolute indifference.

The phantom didn't move an inch. He remained casually seated atop the wooden desk, resting his pale chin on his hand. The fluid, dense mass of shadow beneath his shoes slowly sucked the light and warmth from the surrounding air, keeping the atmosphere unnaturally freezing. His lips were still curved into that slight, mocking, utterly sadistic smirk, as if he were simply observing a small mouse thrashing around in an inescapable trap.

Then, his voice cut directly through my skull. It didn't come from his throat; it resonated like a cold, static-heavy radio frequency whispering right into the depths of my conscious mind:

"Are you finished screaming? Your voice is irritating... and nobody in this abandoned building is going to hear it anyway. The school's malice has sealed your exits, and you are nothing but another sacrifice for tonight's darkness. So, will you keep crying and begging like the rest of the foolish living?"

I looked straight into the abyssal blackness of his lifeless eyes. I didn't blink, nor did I let my frame shrink back. I slowly lowered the bound booklet slightly from my chest, took a deep, steady breath, and answered him in a flat, regal, and extremely low tone that carried not a single trace of fear:

"If this school is a slaughterhouse, I don't plan on being the next sheep. Give me a name first. Who exactly am I dealing with here?"

His sadistic smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, his hollow eyes narrowing with a sharp, dark curiosity as he observed my abrupt, icy composure.

(What is wrong with this girl?) the phantom thought, his pitch-black gaze flashing with a cold hint of intrigue as he watched a human protect herself with silent defiance instead of breaking into tears. (She isn't trembling. She isn't begging. Mortals always fracture when they face death in this room. Did she lose her mind... or is the hatred buried inside her broken soul heavy enough to match the darkness of this place?)

The twisted smirk returned to his lips, and he tilted his head back slightly, answering in a smooth tone draped in malicious mockery:

"You can call me... Woo. That is all you need to know for now."

I stared at him with cold indifference, then slightly raised the booklet in my hands, gesturing toward it with a sharp glance.

"Very well, Woo. You've been trapped in this classroom for decades, moving through its shadows like a prisoner. And the booklet in my hands is the survival protocol of the administrative staff; which means the rules written here control the environment, and they control you as well. What do you say to a contract of mutual interest?"

His wicked grin widened, the thick shadows around his leather shoes seeming to twist across the desk with a quiet, tense anticipation.

"Oh? A mortal who remains analytical while surrounded by nightmares," his voice vibrated inside my head once more, his frost-cold presence leaning in closer to whisper: "I know the hidden paths and rules of these walls by heart. I know exactly which floor tiles will turn into rusted blades in a matter of minutes. Loan me your shadow and your body as a bloodlink so I can move through the academy's corridors under daylight, and I will ensure the walls of this classroom don't crush your bones tonight. Do we have a deal?"

I glanced back at the smooth, handle-less slab of wood that used to be the door, then turned my gaze back to him. The whispers of the students, the callousness of the supervisor, and the twisted face of the popular girl as she chained the corridor railing flashed through my mind.

There was no room left for fear. Human beings had already ruined my life once before; I wasn't going to let this school destroy what was left of me tonight.

I gripped the heavy booklet tightly, my thumb settling against the edge of the first page, ready to flip it. I looked at him with an icy, undeniable authority.

"We have a deal, Woo. I will execute the protocols, and you will be my hidden weapon from the shadows."

The dark tendrils beneath him recoiled slightly as he let out a low, echoing chuckle that sent a shiver through the dust on the ceiling.

"Then open the first page, accursed mortal... the clock is creeping toward nine-O-five, and the automated hell is about to wake up."

Fixing my gaze on the yellowed, singed paper, I flipped open the first page with absolute, clinical composure.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***