Melissa ceased her weeping and looked pitiably toward Eric and the others.
Those three girls had treated her with such kindness before—how had they turned so cold so quickly? Stephanie had even slapped her across the face, as though all the courtesy shown earlier had vanished into thin air.
She was older than them by quite a margin, merely worried about her own children at home—had they truly become so heartless as to ostracize her for that?
"I'm... I'm sorry. Please, don't be mad at me anymore, okay?"
The dormitory was chilly. Stephanie had dragged Melissa to the balcony door earlier, and now, as the others whispered among themselves, ignoring her entirely, Melissa felt not only humiliated but also afraid.
Moments ago, she had recklessly sought to harness the ghost's power to fulfill her wish, but now, in retrospect, fear gripped her heart.
The spirit hadn't left—would it harm someone? She was terrified to face it alone.
"Why don't we take down the quilts and sleep together on the floor?" she suggested meekly.
No one acknowledged her. Each of the three returned to their beds in silence.
Left with no choice, Melissa also climbed into her bunk.
No one could sleep.
The cold aura lingered in the dormitory. Eric closed her eyes, feigning rest, while her ears stayed alert to every sound.
It was still here. Who would it target first? And how?
The three girls had tacitly agreed to separate into their own beds. Each silently hoped she would be the last chosen by the ghost—if they stayed too close, what if they were all dragged into the same doom?
Eric had a small lamp by her bedside, but she chose not to turn it on.
Soon, Stephanie extinguished hers as well.
Darkness consumed the room.
Melissa's bed was beside hers, their pillows nearly touching. Eric could hear her heavy, muffled breathing—she was likely hiding under the covers.
In the dead of night, the sound of dripping water from the bathroom began echoing through the silence, grating on Eric's nerves.
Melissa stirred, discomforted by the dripping.
The air beneath her blanket had grown thick and stale, making it hard to breathe. Her breaths grew louder. Worse yet, the sound of water made her feel the urge to relieve herself.
They had been in the game for six or seven hours, and the three girls hadn't eaten a single thing—not even drunk a drop of water—ever since learning they would be performing the pencil game that night.
Going to the bathroom after summoning a ghost was clearly dangerous.
They had warned Melissa of this, of course, but just like her decision to ask the ghost an extra question, she had a mind of her own—outwardly obedient, inwardly willful.
How could a person go without water? That's not healthy. So, she had fetched herself half a cup from the hallway dispenser.
It was only half a cup—barely enough to feel. Or so she thought.
Now, restless and tense, the urgency had grown unbearable. She tried to resist, but the pressure only intensified.
"...E-Eric?" Melissa whispered, lifting her blanket.
Eric answered, "What is it?"
"Could you go with me… to the bathroom?"
"No," came the flat rejection.
"I… I already know I was wrong. Please don't be like this—we need to help each other, don't we?"
"I'm afraid you'll get me killed." With that, Eric said no more.
The truth was, even without Melissa's blunder, this game was already difficult. But by asking the ghost that unanswerable question, she had undeniably worsened the situation.
Shamed into silence, Melissa dared not speak again—certainly not to Stephanie or Deborah.
Eventually, she could hold it no longer. She cautiously climbed down from her bed.
Eric heard the faint *click* as Melissa turned on her lamp. A soft glow lit the room.
Eric opened her eyes and saw her heading toward the bathroom, carrying the small lamp in hand.
The room power had been cut for the night, but the bathroom lights still worked.
Melissa entered, switched on the dim orange bulb, sighed, set her lamp down on the sink, and closed the door behind her.
The bathroom was small, barely enough for four buckets and basins stacked on the floor. A tiny mirror clung to the wall above the sink. As Melissa relieved herself, she glanced around, thinking this setup was much like her son's dormitory—cramped, but at least they had a private bathroom. Some schools didn't even have that.
She let her mind wander to distract herself from the fear.
Everything went smoothly. She ran the faucet and poured the water into the squat toilet.
Then, she picked up her lamp again, turned off the bathroom light, and prepared to leave.
But the moment the light went out, her lamp, too, died in an instant.
Before her hand could even reach the door, a pair of icy, deathly cold hands clamped around her throat.
She dropped the lamp. Her hands clawed at the ghostly fingers strangling her, but human strength could never match that of the dead.
Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she screamed silently in her heart:
*Save me! Somebody, please help me!*
She hoped someone might have heard the lamp hit the floor and come running.
But no one came. Not before she slipped into unconsciousness.
She fell into eternal darkness.
Back in the dorm, Eric was still listening for sounds from the bathroom.
The walls were thin—she could hear every movement Melissa made.
But then, after the flush, everything went quiet.
Utterly quiet.
Her first thought was: *Something's happened to Melissa.*
On the opposite bunks, Stephanie and Deborah were also listening.
The silence spoke volumes. They all understood—Melissa was in danger.
But none dared move. None would risk their lives.
When it came to malevolent spirits, survival meant evasion. And Melissa had already dragged them down once—none of them saw value in risking more for her.
Time passed.
Eventually, the dripping resumed. Eric thought she even heard footsteps.
She shut her eyes tightly.
Soft, almost imperceptible footsteps moved from the balcony into the dorm.
Eric's bed was nearest the balcony. She felt it—a malignant gaze resting heavily on her, like a butcher considering where best to carve the meat.
Her heart pounded, breath grew shallow, ears buzzed—but she kept perfectly still, her breathing mimicking that of sleep.
She couldn't let the ghost know she was awake.
The gaze lingered painfully long, but just before she broke, it moved on.
Shuffling footsteps crossed the room, heading for the opposite bunks.
Stephanie and Deborah would face the same test.
For reasons unknown, the ghost did not strike.
Eventually, the cold presence faded, leaving only the bathroom's dripping tap behind.
Somehow, Eric drifted into sleep.
She awoke with a jolt in the morning.
Seeing Melissa's bed empty, she pressed her lips together and climbed down.
Stephanie had just awoken too. "Shall we check the bathroom?"
"Mm."
Stephanie nudged Deborah awake. The three girls moved toward the balcony.
The bathroom door was slightly ajar. Eric braced for the bloodbath they had witnessed yesterday in the school restroom. But to her surprise, the room was empty.
Small, unremarkable. Melissa was gone.
"I think the reason she was the first to die wasn't just that she went to the bathroom alone," Deborah said. "She asked *two* questions—and that second one…"
The girls decided to seek out the male players, to see what had happened on their side.
But as soon as Eric opened the dorm door and stepped outside, she locked eyes with a swollen, pale corpse.
The shock was overwhelming—she forgot to breathe. Her heart thudded violently as she stumbled back two steps.
Deborah screamed. "It's Melissa!"
Melissa hung from the hallway's clothesline bar, suspended by a rope. The door, opening inward, had revealed her hanging body face-to-face. The sight was enough to make one faint.
Eric's face turned ashen. After a deep breath, she walked out to inspect the body.
"It's her. Let's get her down," she said.
They fetched a chair and lowered the corpse. The rough hemp rope had left deep, dark bruises around her neck.
"She was strangled," Eric concluded.
"But the door was locked last night—how did she end up here?"
Next door, the neighboring dorm opened and a group of NPC girls emerged.
"You're all up early! Want to head to the cafeteria together?"
They ignored the body entirely, smiling cheerfully, inviting the three to breakfast.
Eric forced a smile. "Sure."
They dragged the body to an empty room, then joined the NPCs for breakfast.
At the table, one of the girls giggled.
"I heard you summoned the pencil spirit last night! Was it accurate?"
Deborah replied, "Quite accurate."
"We've got exams coming up. I want to know if I'll make top twenty in the class. We're doing our own pencil game tonight! Want to join?"
*Who in their right mind would summon another ghost?*
Eric and the others refused without hesitation.
Back in class, before the morning reading began, Eric heard nearby NPCs gossiping about the pencil spirit again. She dropped her bag and went to find the male players.
Only two had arrived—Anthony and Thomas.
Eric's heart sank. "You lost two?"
Anthony nodded grimly.
"Richard and Jasper… they were found dead in their beds. Hearts gouged out."