The voice was still counting.
"Eight… nine…"
Serena's breath came in shallow bursts as Ryder pulled her up, his grip firm but careful. Her palm throbbed, blood dripping onto the floorboards in thick, dark drops. Each one sounded louder than the last in the suffocating silence.
"Shit," she whispered again, clutching her hand against her chest. The sting was sharp, but the fear was sharper.
"Don't move," Ryder said, crouching low. He tore a strip from his hoodie sleeve and wrapped it around her hand, his fingers brushing her skin. Warm. Steady. Too steady for the chaos around them. "You're okay. Just keep quiet."
Serena nodded, trying not to sob
"Twenty… Ready or not…"
The sound of laughter rolled through the house like thunder, bouncing off the walls. Tango winced, backing into a corner. His foot hit the broken lamp again, shards crunching under his sneakers. The noise was deafening.
"Damn it, Tango!" Pierce hissed, grabbing him by the collar. "You're gonna get us killed!"
Too late. The laughter stopped. Silence fell like a blade.
Then, from the far end of the hallway, a soft creak. A door opening. Slowly. Deliberately.
Talia's voice was barely a breath. "It's looking for us."
Serena's blood dripped onto the wood again, one drop, two, three. Ryder's eyes darted to it, then to her. His jaw tightened. "We need to move. Now."
"Where?" Aria whispered, panic clawing at her voice.
Ryder scanned the dark, then pointed toward the staircase. "Upstairs. Closets. Bedrooms. Just quiet."
They started to move, slow and silent, but the house groaned like it was alive. Every step felt like a scream. Behind them, the voice sang again, sweet and sharp:
"Here I come…"
The staircase loomed ahead like a throat swallowing light. The group hesitated at the bottom, breaths shallow, hearts pounding in sync with the voice echoing through the house:
"Here I come…"
No one spoke at first. The silence was heavy, broken only by the creak of old wood beneath their feet and the distant hum of wind clawing at the nailed shutters.
Tango was still trembling, his hands clutching the banister like it was the only solid thing left in the world. "I-I can't do this," he stammered, voice cracking. "This isn't a game. It's real. Tim's gone. He's gone."
Pierce spun on him, anger masking fear. "You think we don't know that? You think we're not freaking out too?" His voice rose, sharp and brittle. "We need to keep it together or we're all dead."
"Dead?" Aria's laugh was hollow, jagged. "You think saying that helps? We're trapped in a house that's playing games with us. Tim screamed and vanished. And now—" Her voice broke. She pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes glistening in the dim light. "Now it's counting."
Talia stood rigid, arms crossed tight against her chest like armor. Her jaw was set, but her eyes darted to every shadow. "We should never have touched that board," she whispered. "This is on us. On Tim and Serena .Her gaze flicked to Serena, who was leaning against a wall, blood seeping through the makeshift bandage.
Serena opened her mouth, but Ryder cut in, voice low and firm. "Blame later. Survive now."
The words hung in the air, heavy and cold.
"Survive?" Tango whispered. "How? It's hunting us."
The voice answered for him, lilting and sweet:
"Ready or not…"
The sound of footsteps drifted down the hallway—slow, deliberate, playful. The group froze. Every breath felt like a scream.
Pierce swallowed hard, forcing calm into his tone. "We split up. Hide. Closets, under beds—whatever. Just stay quiet."
"No," Aria hissed. "Splitting up is how people die."
"Staying together is how it finds us faster," Talia shot back. Her voice trembled despite the steel in her words.
The argument fractured into whispers, panic bleeding through every syllable. Fear wasn't just in the house it was in them now, crawling under their skin, turning friends into strangers.
Above them, a door slammed shut with a sound like a gunshot. Then laughter high, sharp, echoing down the stairs.
The game had begun.