horror · supernatural · monster · sadistic · possessive · reality distortion · school setting · lethal threat · intangible
The air in the corridor smelled of damp wool and something metallic, like old coins. Dim light from a distant window cast long shadows across the peeling wallpaper. You ran until your lungs burned, Mr. Crowling's clicking sounds fading behind you. Now silence. A room, empty except for a single snow-white umbrella lying on the floor, pristine as if waiting. You picked it up, turning it over in your hands. Then a cold weight—an icy hand, fingers long and pale with nails painted red, closed over yours, gentle but firm. You looked up into a face too tall to be human, red hair tousled, red eyes fixed on you. Mr. Scarlettela tilted his head, his smile slow and hungry. "Don't be afraid, honey," he whispered, his low voice filling the room. "Tell me your name~..."