After returning to the dormitory, Eric first went to check the neighboring room—she remembered Carol lived there.
The door was tightly shut, and a glance through the window revealed an empty room.
They split up and searched the entire girls' dormitory building, only to find that most of the rooms were locked and uninhabited.
Eric suspected those rooms belonged to students who had once played the Pen Fairy game. They had all vanished together.
To resist the Pen Fairy ritual was futile—the rules of the instance prohibited refusal.
Midnight drew near.
The lights in their dorm were already turned off. Eric and her dormmates had made all necessary preparations: a small table, a sheet of A4 paper, a ballpoint pen, and four candles. They had even deliberated over the questions to ask, hoping to keep them harmless.
But everyone knew such efforts were likely in vain. This cursed scenario existed to summon vengeful spirits at the stroke of midnight. Even asking the Pen Fairy what it had for dinner wouldn't save them.
"If it answers our questions, it might place us in even greater danger," Deborah warned.
By drawing lots, it was decided that Eric and Deborah would be the ones to hold the pen.
Eric quickly reviewed the steps of the Pen Fairy ritual. At 11:59 p.m., Melissa and Stephanie lit the four candles, placing them at each corner of the small table. Eric and Deborah sat cross-legged before it, their backs straight, hands clasped together with fingers interlaced, holding the pen between them.
With three seconds remaining, they raised their joined hands over the paper, elbows suspended in mid-air.
"It's time," Stephanie whispered.
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Eric and Deborah spoke in unison:
"Pen Fairy, Pen Fairy, you are my past life, I am your present. If you wish to continue our bond, please draw a circle on the paper."
Almost immediately, a breeze swept in from the balcony, flickering the candlelight, and the pen began to tremble.
"It's moving!" Melissa gasped, glancing around nervously. Had the Pen Fairy arrived?
It must have! The candle flames had wavered so dramatically!
Eric's heart lodged in her throat. She felt the pen quivering in her hands—not as though she held a pen, but rather the hand of a ghost.
She fixed her gaze on the pen and asked hoarsely, "Pen Fairy, is that you? If so, please draw a circle."
The pen wobbled, then traced a circle on the paper.
It had come.
All four girls held their breath at once.
They had summoned the Pen Fairy.
That realization alone was enough to send shivers racing down their spines and stir a primal dread within their souls.
"Quick, ask your questions!" Stephanie urged Melissa.
They had already decided the order: Melissa would ask first, then Stephanie, Eric, and lastly Deborah—who would also be responsible for sending the Pen Fairy away.
Melissa swallowed hard. "Pen Fairy, am I left-handed or right-handed?"
The pen, as if guided by some unseen force, began to move across the paper. Eric stared at it, her lips pale. Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through her right eye. She blinked rapidly, trying to ease the discomfort, but the pain only intensified until she wanted nothing more than to clutch her face and writhe on the ground.
But she couldn't move.
They had just summoned the Pen Fairy—releasing their grip now would be fatal.
Tears welled up from the pain, blurring her vision. She couldn't see what the pen had written, but Stephanie had already asked the next question, suggesting the answer had been recorded.
"Pen Fairy, do you know how old I am?"
Eric felt the pen stir again beneath her fingers.
Stephanie watched as the pen scrawled the number "19" in crooked strokes, then turned to Deborah. "Your turn," she said, and added softly to Eric, "Are you okay? Just hang in there." She wiped the tears from Eric's face with her sleeve.
"I'm fine," Eric whispered. "I can hold on."
Seeing Eric's distress, Deborah understood what Stephanie meant: she was to take Eric's turn. Without protest, she asked, "Pen Fairy, how many piercings do I have in my ears?"
The pen once more moved independently and wrote the number "1."
Eric finally recovered from the pain and opened her eyes. Though her lashes were wet with tears, she could now see clearly.
She looked down at the paper and saw that the Pen Fairy had answered Melissa with the character for "left," and had responded correctly to both Stephanie and Deborah's questions.
Now it was her turn.
"Pen Fairy, please tell me—" *Where are my parents? Are they still alive?* Eric took a deep breath and asked instead, "Do you know if I put my school ID in the left pocket or the right?"
The moment the words left her mouth, she felt a piercing, malicious gaze fall upon her—as if someone intended to strip her flesh away layer by layer.
The pen quivered and wrote "left."
All four players had now asked their questions.
Only the farewell ritual remained—
Just as Deborah opened her mouth to speak the dismissal, something unexpected happened. Melissa, seated beside Eric, suddenly blurted out a question.
Her throat tight, but her words fast and fluent—so different from the hesitant tone she'd used before—Melissa asked, "Pen Fairy, Pen Fairy, tell me: will I ever see my son again?"
Deborah's face went pale. Eric whipped her head around to stare at Melissa.
Stephanie sprang to her feet, lunging to cover Melissa's mouth.
But she was too late. Melissa had already spoken. The other three players were gripped by cold dread.
What kind of question was that?!
She was asking—indirectly—if she could be resurrected!
Melissa, avoiding their eyes, lowered her head. She had wanted to ask this from the start. This was her third instance; the previous two had been ordinary ones. This time, she'd been thrust into a supernatural scenario. She didn't know much about either type.
Though she nodded seriously and appeared to heed the veterans' instructions, in truth, she had her own agenda.
If she was going to summon the Pen Fairy, she was going to ask what mattered most to her.
Her son. The child she had left behind. He was sick, and she didn't know if her ex-husband was taking care of him. Was the boy alone and ailing?
She had to ask. Even if it meant the rules would be broken.
The question wasn't only about herself—it was also about her child's fate.
If the Pen Fairy said yes, then maybe she'd be revived—and her son would be safe.
If not, she would ask again.
Deborah didn't know what Melissa was thinking. But she had played this game before, during school. It hadn't succeeded back then, but she had studied the ritual and its taboos.
You could ask the Pen Fairy questions—but never about its cause of death. And never ask questions it couldn't answer. If it failed to respond…
Something terrible would happen.
It all happened in an instant. The moment Melissa finished her question, Eric felt the pen jerk violently in her grasp.
The pen jabbed furiously at the paper, forming angry, thick black dots.
A chilling coldness surged from Eric's hand up her arm, until half her body went numb.
"Quick, tell it to forget the question! Say you give up!" Deborah cried out.
"I just wanted to know…" Melissa murmured. "You don't understand—my son—"
Stephanie had already leapt behind Melissa and slapped her hard across the face, dazing her. Then she dragged her away from the table, making sure it wouldn't be overturned.
"Say it! Say you abandon the question or I swear I'll kill you!" Stephanie slashed a pair of scissors across Melissa's neck.
"Aah!" Melissa shrieked in terror.
"Now!"
"I—I give up! I won't ask anymore! I'm sorry, Pen Fairy, I won't ask again, please…" she sobbed.
But it was too late.
Eric and Deborah locked eyes, sharing the same grim resolve. The pen was thrashing in their hands, wild and unmanageable.
Then—*rip!*
The pen pierced through the paper.
"Pen Fairy, that's enough for tonight. Please return!" Eric cried out.
The pen scraped violently against the wooden table, screeching horribly.
Deborah joined in: "Pen Fairy, tonight's ritual is over, we bid you farewell!"
It was no use.
Stephanie was still pinning Melissa down, while Melissa wept in panic.
The small table quaked. The candle flames flickered frantically—then extinguished one by one.
In that instant of darkness, as Eric blinked, she seemed to pierce through the veil—and saw a ghost's face.
It was mere inches away, eyes gleaming with malevolent hunger. Its hands were clasped over hers and Deborah's.
In that moment of terror, Eric had a bizarre realization: *So that's how the pen moves. No wonder the more questions we asked, the colder my hands felt.*
*Clatter!*
The pen flew from their grasp. The table collapsed.
The dorm was swallowed in darkness, and Eric slumped to the floor, drained of strength.
"What do we do?" Deborah gasped, clutching her trembling hand. "We didn't manage to send the Pen Fairy away!"
Eric had no answer. She had seen it—truly seen it. A ghost. A male spirit in his thirties or forties, with a ghastly, contorted face. It would terrify any child in a horror film.
She would never forget the way it looked at her—hungry, predatory.
It hadn't been banished. It was still in the room.
Watching them.
Waiting.
This time, Eric's "Ghost Eye," which had been useless in the last instance, had finally awakened. That gave her a sliver of hope.
"Wuuu…" Melissa sobbed.
Stephanie shoved her aside and groped for the bedside lamp. Since the dorm power was cut off at night, every student had to bring their own rechargeable desk light.
The lamp clicked on. Stephanie placed it on the floor, then sat beside Eric and Deborah to plan their next move.
Melissa was still crying—but none of them paid her any mind.
Such recklessness, such selfish folly—no one wanted her as an ally anymore.
She was courting death—and dragging them down with her.
"The Pen Fairy hasn't left," Eric said quietly. "From now on, we have to be extremely careful. Never act alone."
She swept the room with her eyes under the lamp's faint glow. No ghostly figure could be seen.
But she knew—it was still there.