Grayling High School, Michigan.
The final bell rang, louder than usual—like even the building was relieved it was over.
Almost instantly, the halls erupted. Students poured out of classrooms, voices overlapping, laughter breaking out as the weight of exams finally lifted.
"Finally," Ana said, dragging her bag over her shoulder. "We're done with this shit."
A chorus of agreement followed as the group made their way down the stairs together.
"Now that exams are over," Frank said, stretching his arms, "we should actually do something fun."
"Like a party?" Max suggested.
Georgina shot him a look. "Ew. That's all we ever do. Think of something different for once."
Alex, who had been quiet until now, glanced at the others. "What about that thing we planned last Halloween?"
Michael immediately grinned. "Yeah. That. We couldn't do it last time because Jimmy pussied out."
"I didn't pussy out," Jimmy snapped. "I was sick."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Ana cut in. "So are we doing it or not?"
There was a brief pause before her eyes shifted toward one person.
"What about you, John?"
John had been walking slightly behind them, hands in his pockets, barely paying attention.
He looked up, his expression flat.
"You all still believe in ghosts and that bullshit?" he said. "I don't. And I'm not wasting my time on it."
Frank smirked. "What, you gonna back out too?"
Something in John's expression tightened.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he let out a short laugh.
"Fine," he said. "I'll come."
His gaze moved across each of them.
"And I'll prove that every single one of you is dumb as hell."
"Alright," Michael said, clapping his hands once. "In front of Crawford Library. Seven p.m."
He glanced at Jimmy with a smirk.
"Don't want anyone getting sick this time."
Jimmy rolled his eyes but didn't respond.
The sun dipped lower, bleeding orange across the sky.
6:55 p.m.
The street outside Crawford Library was quiet, the evening air settling in.
One by one, they gathered.
Max leaned against the railing. Georgina stood nearby, scrolling through her phone. Ana paced slightly, glancing down the road every few seconds.
"Where's John?" Frank asked, checking the time. "Don't tell me he chickened out."
Georgina looked up immediately. "John's not that kind of person."
"Yeah?" Frank shrugged. "Doesn't look like he's coming."
Ana suddenly stopped pacing.
"Look," she said, pointing down the street. "There."
A figure approached under the dim streetlights.
Hood up. Hands in pockets.
John.
He walked toward them like nothing mattered, his expression unreadable.
"Took you long enough," Frank said.
John shrugged. "Had better things to do."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"But I'm here."
They didn't waste much time after that.
The group moved together, their voices fading as they left the main road behind.
The sky darkened. Streetlights became fewer.
And eventually—
They saw it.
Burton's High School.
Or what was left of it.
The building stood in silence, its blackened walls scarred from the fire that had consumed it twelve years ago. Windows were shattered, empty frames staring out like hollow eyes.
Even from a distance, it felt… wrong.
This place had a reputation.
A spot for thrill seekers. For stupid dares. For stories people told just to scare each other.
No one really believed them.
…until they stood in front of it.
They didn't use the main gate.
Heavy chains wrapped around it, rusted but firm. Warning signs were nailed across the entrance.
RESTRICTED. NO TRESPASSING.
Some were torn. Some barely hanging.
None of it stopped them.
They climbed over the wall instead.
Inside, the air felt different.
Still. Heavy.
The first building loomed ahead, its broken windows swallowing what little light remained.
Frank, of course, broke the silence.
"You know," he said, glancing around, "this place burned down like twelve years ago. Killed around thirty students."
A few of them shifted uncomfortably.
"They say their spirits still roam here," he continued, lowering his voice. "There's even a rumor—some kind of presence. Attacks girls who come here."
The boys laughed.
"Can you guys be any louder?" Georgina snapped. "Do you want something to actually hear us?"
They found a classroom.
Or what used to be one.
Desks lay scattered. The walls were blackened, paint peeled away in long strips. The faint smell of burnt wood still lingered.
"This works," Max said.
That was the plan.
Not just a dare.
An experience.
They set up the board.
Candles flickered to life, their light barely holding back the darkness pressing in from the corners of the room.
John stayed back.
Arms crossed. Watching.
Not participating.
"This is stupid," he muttered. "You really believe this crap?"
No one answered.
Max placed his fingers on the planchette.
"Everyone," he said quietly. "Hands on."
They obeyed.
John didn't.
Instead, he glanced around.
Counted.
"…Wait."
Something felt off.
"Where's Michael?" he asked. "And Alex?"
A brief pause.
Then a few smirks.
"They probably went somewhere," Frank said. "You know… alone."
A couple of them chuckled.
John didn't.
But he said nothing.
"Is anyone there?" Ana whispered.
The candle flames flickered.
A faint wind brushed through the room.
Then—
The planchette moved.
A sharp breath escaped from Jimmy.
"No way…"
"Who's doing that?" John said immediately. "Cut it out."
"I'm not moving it," Max said, his voice tight.
"Neither am I," someone else whispered.
It moved again.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Answering.
The room grew colder.
Jimmy's breathing turned uneven. Max's hands trembled.
Even Frank had gone quiet.
Only John remained still.
Watching.
Analyzing.
There has to be a trick.
"Enough," John said suddenly, stepping forward. "Stop this—"
The candles went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
"Oh no…" Georgina whispered.
John felt it.
Not in front of him.
Behind him.
He turned.
The hallway stretched into darkness.
And there—
A shape.
Standing still.
Watching.
"Max?" he called out. "Is that you? We're leaving. Where's Alex?"
No response.
Footsteps approached behind him.
Frank.
"Who are you talking to?" he asked.
John frowned, pointing.
"Right there. Can't you—"
Nothing.
The hallway was empty.
The shape—
Gone.
Frank let out a small laugh. "You're seeing things, man."
Jimmy shook his head. "No… I don't like this. Let's just go."
Ana hesitated.
"…Let's find those two first."
They moved through the hallway, calling out names.
"Michael!"
"Alex!"
Their voices echoed unnaturally loud.
The building answered with silence.
John walked ahead.
Then—
A sound.
Something shifting.
From inside a nearby classroom.
He exhaled, annoyed.
"Seriously?" he muttered. "Out of all places…"
Frank smirked. "Go on then."
John pushed the door open.
Slowly.
The smell hit first.
Thick.
Metallic.
Wrong.
Frank stepped in ahead of him.
Then froze.
John followed.
And saw.
Bodies lay across the floor—broken, twisted into shapes that didn't look human anymore.
Frank gagged, dropping to his knees, vomiting.
John couldn't move.
His mind refused to process it.
This isn't real.
A scream.
Behind him.
He turned.
And saw it.
The shape from before.
But now—
Clear.
Real.
Seven feet tall.
Raw flesh stretched across its frame, twitching like it was still alive.
Horns curled from its head.
Its eyes—
Empty.
Endless hunger staring back at him.
John raised his hand instinctively.
"Ana—don't—"
Too late.
It moved.
Faster than thought.
A hand pierced through a chest.
Another body lifted.
Blood sprayed across the walls.
Ana's scream cut off—
Silenced.
Frank turned slowly, his face pale.
His eyes widened.
Bodies.
Floating.
Torn open.
Then—
Nothing.
The creature vanished.
John spun around.
"Frank—"
It was already there.
Standing in front of him.
Holding something.
Frank's head.