Finally, at the bottom of the large stairs leading to the next floor.
「I almost fell again several times… I really need to be careful. Good thing I managed to catch myself.」
He stood unharmed before the door to floor 97 despite all his mishaps.
With each breath, a small cloud of mist left his nose and met the thin fog floating along the ground.
Something was wrong. He didn't know what, but it was there, lurking in the cold air.
Mike — "Weird door…"
This new door was a bit larger than the previous ones, but that wasn't the only difference — it was made of two panels. Each of them had a thick frame and, at their center, a transparent section that wasn't glass.
No matter how much he tried to look through it, he couldn't see what was on the other side.
The surface vibrated faintly under his fingers, like something rejecting his touch. It reflected a vague shadow… but it wasn't his. Just for an instant. Then nothing.
「It's different from the other doors. I don't remember ever seeing one like this. Yet I'm sure I should know…」
He eventually gripped the door and stepped inside.
After a few steps, he stopped, looking around.
This place was falsely silent. No echo answered his footsteps, as if sound itself refused to remain here.
Mike — "It's different…"
Windows lined each side of the hallway.
On one side, the moon could be seen, still as red as ever, and a clear black sky. On the other side, upon closer inspection, there weren't only windows but also doors, each placed with precise spacing. Between each door, three small windows sat in their center. And on the doors, unreadable plates — erased.
Pvvvvf
??? — "Please enter your classrooms!"
Mike jumped at the sudden announcement that rang out.
Mike — "Classrooms? So that's it? I'm supposed to go in?"
Voice? — "Yes, but I don't know if he—"
Mike — "Here… I don't think I have a choice… So this one!"
He approached one of the doors and grabbed the handle.
The moment he did, a shiver ran through him. Despite it, he pushed the door open and entered.
??? — "You a…re stil…l la…te, Mr « ___ »."
Before him hovered a half-floating feminine silhouette, her features blurred, as if erased by hand…
She spoke those few broken words in an acerbic tone.
She stood between a wooden desk and a large chalkboard.
Mike — "Late? Why?"
She pointed to the back wall. A clock was hung there. Its hands seemed like they wanted to move forward but always snapped back to the same position, as if frozen: all three pointed at 12.
Mike — "Why is it stuck?"
Voice? — "She looks like a teacher, and you're probably late for class…"
「A teacher? Late for? Class?」
The silhouette moved among the desks and, holding a small object in her hand, pointed to one of the desks at the back.
Teacher silhouette — "Go si…t at the ba…ck, with…out dis…tur…bing the oth…er stu…dents…"
After saying this in the same tone, she vanished.
Mike then looked toward the desks.
On each chair sat a student silhouette. They varied in size, each with their own characteristics. Some smiled or even laughed, while others cowered on their seats. Some had blurry faces, others had a hand-painted smiling mask, and several were turned toward him.
「These are students? Why are they laughing? For no reason? What are they afraid of? Or of who? Of me?」
He began walking, questioning everything, unable to understand what was happening around him.
As he passed between two desks, the silhouette on his right jolted backward.
Nerdy silhouette — "My mom… told me t…hat you…r mom died… in a sus…picious way… just like your dad! Do—do…n't co…me near me!"
She spoke in a choppy, slightly stuttering voice.
While the one on his left mocked him.
Girl silhouette — "Pfft Him? Kill someone? He can't even show up on time!"
Mike — "So it's this kind of memory…"
Voice? — "You can get out of here if it's too hard…"
Mike — "No… I have to keep going. I know that if I make it to the back, I'll be able to remember this memory… but more importantly, reach the next floor… It seems less painful than the previous ones."
He didn't know why, but for some time now he was convinced that moving forward would let him descend the floors. One by one, and that he'd eventually find the truth and an exit this way. So he continued toward the back of the room.
The more he walked, the louder and more broken the silhouettes' voices became.
Buff boy silhouette — "Tch If you didn't dr…ag aro…und such gro…ss stori…es, I would've ta…ken you in…to my crew!"
「His crew? Who would want someone like me?」
Boy silhouette — "MURDERER! KILLER!"
He ignored all of it, walking with a determination he had never shown before.
Rich boy silhouette — "I wou…ld have paid… you well… to take ca…re of my fami…ly."
Mike — "Paid? There's something wrong with him."
He lifted his eyes to his destination — the wall.
It was receding, just like the seat he had been assigned. The number of students increased accordingly.
The clock, too, moved backward, its hands spinning wildly, as if time itself were speeding up.
Tick Tock Ticktock Tock Tickticktick TOCK
His steps grew heavy, harder to take.
Voice? — "This isn't going to be easy…"
His vision blurred. The silhouettes' voices grew sharp, increasingly violent.
Every silhouette pointed a finger at him.
Group of silhouettes — "Assassin! Coward! Murderer! Madman! Weakling! Spineless! Killer! Cursed! Wimp! Coward! Killer! Lunatic! Assassin! Spineless! MAD! MAD! MAD!"
In a deafening uproar, insults and accusations flew in every direction.
「No, that's not me…」
Some whispered right beside his ear even though they were far away, others screamed as if they were burning. And some… simply laughed softly, never stopping their stare.
Ass…! Kill…! Ma…d…!
Child's voice — "I-it's n-not your fa…fault, right? Right, Mike? Mike?"
A small worried child, stone-like in form, spoke and then crumbled away like ash.
Mike — "No! Who are you?"
A dull pulsation echoed in his head, beating with his heart — but it wasn't his rhythm. It was another presence.
Suddenly, a screech rang out.
Mike turned toward it.
A red piece of chalk was floating. Letters, words, sentences formed on the board.
Each letter vibrated as if someone were screaming them directly into his mind.
[They treated you so badly… Yet all you did was reject me… Even though I… I COULD HAVE HELPED YOU!]
Voice? — "Oh no… He's already back…"
The Voice sounded exasperated by the presence that had appeared.
Mad…! Spi…nel…ss…!
Mike looked away and kept walking.
Cow…ard! Ki…ller…!
Mike — "WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP !"
A brutal, almost deafening silence fell upon the room. Even the air froze.
The mouths locked in place. Time suspended.
The silhouettes, frozen in their last grotesque expressions, didn't move anymore.
The wall returned to its original place.
The clock slowed down, its hands returning to their starting position: 12.
Mike collapsed forward, catching himself on the desk he had been trying to reach — now strangely close.
Mike — "Finally…"
He sat in the chair that had been waiting so patiently for him.
At that instant, a flood of memories surged through him.
Nauseous, head pounding, he shut his eyes.
「Faces. A room. A laugh. A hand on my shoulder. Blows. A scream. Blood? No, it's not mine… Something else… I don't remember…」
It was there. It was real.
He slowly reopened his eyes.
Something in them had changed. He looked duller… more tired… worn down. But not only that.
Mike — "So that was middle school…"