The Truth of the School
Location: Teachers' Lounge
Time: 04:45 AM
The four survivors ran.
Desperate.
Rafael and Lucas didn't look back. Every stumble, every collision with loose desks, broken chairs, and fallen cabinets only slowed them for a second before they forced themselves forward again, following Hope's screams.
Hope kept shouting for Marcos.
But the answer was always the same.
Silence.
And the certainty that he wasn't coming back.
Even if she wanted to believe otherwise… she knew better.
Coming out of this alive… or even sane… had never really been an option.
Not after this.
Not after the game had already claimed one of them.
— RAFA!!!
She tripped over something soft.
Still on the ground, she turned—
Hair falling over her face with the sudden movement.
— HAAAAAAAAA
This time, the scream was pure terror.
It vibrated through the walls, echoing as her eyes locked onto it—
A human arm.
Fresh.
Severed.
Hope passed out almost instantly.
When she came to, Lucas and Rafael were pulling her to her feet. No one asked about Marcos.
Not out of cowardice.
But because they were afraid of the answer.
In the hallway, Lucas breathed heavily, grabbing an iron bar. A shadow moved inside the detention room.
— Hey guys… lucky me…
Carmesim.
Lucas swung on instinct.
She barely dodged.
Hope trembled, relief crashing into fear at how close Lucas had come to knocking her out.
— Jesus Christ…
Hope muttered, pressing her back against the peeling wall.
— Amen…
Lucas dropped the iron bar and pulled Carmesim into a tight embrace.
He'd never admit it.
But the faint scent of lavender behind her ear grounded him.
— Don't disappear again… please…
His voice came out low. Shaking.
— I won't… just don't leave me again until we get out of here.
She murmured, returning the embrace.
— We need to find a way out! — Rafael shouted.
— We've tried everything! — Hope cried. — Thank God you're here…
— It's not time to celebrate yet…
Carmesim turned—
Almost asked.
Bit it back.
She couldn't make it heavier than it already was.
Explaining this to the police… to Marcos' family…
That five of them had gone "ghost hunting"…
And only four came back alive…
Worse—
No body.
No closure.
Just absence.
— If… I hadn't—
— No. — Lucas cut her off. — It's not your fault. Whatever that thing is… it would've taken you too.
Lucas stopped in front of a wall covered in cobwebs.
— Look at this.
An old newspaper clipping.
†"Tragedy at São Bastilo das Almas School — Principal goes mad, kills students before hanging himself"†
The photo showed the same man from the portrait.
Surrounded by bodies.
— He killed seven students… then himself. — Lucas read quietly. — This guy was sick… completely insane…
— Sev— — Hope didn't finish.
A voice whispered behind them:
— Two souls remain to complete the seal…
They turned.
The principal's portrait—
Was new.
Untouched.
No dust.
No decay.
No time.
But that wasn't what made their stomachs twist.
It was the blood.
Fresh.
Drawn across the wall—
Forming a noose.
And the man in the painting…
Smiling.
At them.