It wasn't midnight.
On the study room wall clock, the hour hand was still a long way from the top. But the lights, as if someone had cut the power remotely, just snapped off. The entire world went black.
It wasn't a tripped breaker.
It was that kind of oppressive, malevolent darkness, swallowing everything in an instant. The distinct smell of mildew and chalk dust, characteristic of the old building, seemed magnified immensely in the dark, mixed with a… faint, almost imperceptible scent of rust drifting into my nostrils. Low gasps and the clatter of desks and chairs were like pebbles dropped into a deep pool, quickly swallowed by the viscous darkness, leaving only heavy breathing and heartbeats, pounding like drums against everyone's eardrums.
The sliver of pale moonlight from outside, like the white of a dead man's eye, barely outlined the twisted silhouettes of the corridor railings, resembling ghostly claws.
Then, my phone. The cheap, three-year-old domestic model I'd been using… its screen suddenly lit up on its own, without warning. Not a system update, not a low battery warning, certainly not a message from anyone.
It was images. One after another, like some vicious curse, force-fed, impossible to close.
A blood-red background, like congealed arterial blood. Stark white text, as if carved from bone, with sharp, cold edges, scrolled silently, frantically before my eyes.
[Sanzhong Experimental Middle School Late-Night Study Special Rules V1.0]
[Rule 1: During late-night study, maintain absolute silence. Anyone attempting to make non-essential noise, or responding to 'teacher' roll calls or questions, will be subject to mandatory 'detention tutoring' until the next rule refresh.]
[Rule 2: All students must return to the dormitory area via the designated route before 9:30 PM. After 10:00 PM, the main building and adjacent corridors are strictly forbidden for any 'living beings' (definition reserved by the Disciplinary Committee) to linger or move within.]
[Rule 3: During patrols, if encountering Disciplinary Committee members wearing old-fashioned gas masks, you must immediately give way. Strictly forbidden to make eye contact of any form, at any distance. Violators… consequences unknown, but strongly advised against trying.]
[Rule 4: The safety attribute of locations marked as 'Safe Zones' within the building is time-limited. Please pay close attention to environmental changes and broadcast announcements.]
[Rule 5: Do not destroy any school public facilities, especially mirrors and objects with reflective surfaces.]
…
[Rule 13: Final interpretation rests with 'The School'. We wish you pleasant studies.]
Thirteen rules. No more, no less. Like thirteen knots on a hangman's noose. My heart seized, my throat as dry as the Sahara. A prank? A virus? Or… some kind of… game beyond our comprehension?
"Aaaah—!"
The scream was cut short, as if forcibly choked off. Right in front of me, by the window – the quiet girl who usually just buried her head in practice problems. In the darkness, her silhouette convulsed violently.
Then, illuminated by the eerie red glow of my phone screen and the faint moonlight, I saw something I'll never forget.
A segment of scarlet vine, covered in a sticky, saliva-like transparent fluid, like a living viper, shot out from the collar of her school uniform! It wasn't a plant, more like… living flesh and blood. Tiny veins were even visible pulsing on its surface.
"Rrrrip—" Fabric tore easily.
"Sssss—" Was that... the sound of corrosion?!
The vine spread wildly over her neck and shoulders, wrapping, tightening… like a red-hot poker on butter, the girl's body, under everyone's horrified gaze, rapidly, silently… dissolved! Yes, dissolved! Like a wax figure thrown into a furnace, flesh, bone, uniform, everything liquefied under the scarlet vine's embrace.
The surrounding students, scared witless, scrambled backward, sending desks and chairs crashing ('Clang! Crash!'), the noise piercing the dead silence.
It took maybe five seconds. Perhaps less.
The screaming stopped.
The vine retracted, as if it had never been there.
The girl, along with her seat, had vanished completely.
Only a puddle of dark red, viscous liquid remained, emitting strange white fumes and reeking of a thick stench mixing blood and burnt flesh. In the center of the pool lay a plastic school ID badge, her name and naive smiling photo bobbing amidst the bubbling gore.
Absolute silence descended. Even the sound of swallowing felt like thunder. The air turned ice-cold, fear strangling everyone's throats.
"Don't move! Get down!!"
An iron grip clamped down on my shoulder, nearly crushing my collarbone. It was the class president, Christopher. He'd somehow crept beside me, his voice a low growl, like a feral beast, yet carried an undeniable ruthlessness and… composure? This guy usually seemed easygoing; I never expected this…
"Everyone! Now! On the floor! Face down! Don't look up!" he snarled again, snapping on a powerful flashlight. The bright beam swept wildly through the darkness, briefly illuminating faces twisted, pale, and tear-streaked.
"The rules! Rule three!" Christopher's voice scraped like ice shards against everyone's nerves. "Remember! No eye contact with the gas-masked Prefects! But…" He stopped abruptly, the flashlight beam freezing on the corridor window, his voice gaining a barely perceptible tremor. "But… the ones outside… they don't have…"
He didn't finish.
As if to refute him.
The instant his last word fell, out in the moonlit corridor, three dark figures appeared silently.
Appeared out of thin air. As if seeping out from the moonlit shadows.
Tall, thin, wearing the outdated, deep blue woolen Prefect uniforms our school had long since abandoned, their shoulder lines unnervingly straight. The most chilling part was their faces—covered by those bulky, menacing military gas masks, the kind you see in old movies. Black rubber hugged their faces (if there were faces underneath), the round lenses like insect compound eyes. Moonlight reflected off them as two points of eerie green phosphorescence, cold, lifeless, devoid of any human warmth.
They just stood there, like three silent statues, motionless. No footsteps, no breathing, not even the rustle of clothing. As if they were part of the darkness and silence itself.
Fear was no longer an icy shock, but like countless cold insects crawling up my spine, gnawing at my sanity. Some began to sob uncontrollably, others' teeth chattered violently, emitting a terrifying "clack-clack-clack" sound.
"Run!!" Christopher's voice suddenly shot up, filled with desperate resolve. "The auditorium! Follow me to the auditorium! It's marked on the map, it's a safe zone!!"
Chaos erupted like a kicked beehive. The instinct to survive instantly overrode the bone-deep fear. Everyone scattered like startled rabbits, scrambling desperately for the front and back doors. Christopher yanked me up, practically dragging me forward. Marcus, the sports committee member, the big guy over six feet tall, forgot all decorum, shoving people aside to get out. And Emily, the study committee member, that petite girl, showed surprising speed, staying right behind us.
The four of us practically collided, pushed along by the panicked crowd, stumbling out the back door of the classroom.
The corridor reeked even more strongly of formalin mixed with rust, mingled with the burnt, bloody smell from the dissolved girl, making me gag. The three gas-masked 'Prefects' remained motionless, their eerie green gaze seeming to pierce the masks, like nails pinning our fleeing backs. But strangely, they didn't pursue, just watched.
"This way! Stairs!" Christopher had a clear goal, pulling me towards the west staircase leading to the auditorium.
We'd barely descended half a flight when the flashlight beam swept across the landing, illuminating the scene there.
The four of us froze as if petrified, skidding to a halt, nearly crashing into it.
Jacob. The PE committee member. The starting player on the school basketball team, built like a young bull. He was 'standing' there in an impossible posture.
His upper body, from the chest up, including his head and arms, was embedded in the wall! As if the solid concrete wall were soft cheese, and he'd been shoved in by an invisible giant hand. Fine cracks radiated from where he entered the wall.
His face was turned towards us, eyes wide, whites murky, pupils shrunk to pinpricks, empty and vacant. His mouth opened and closed, jaw seemingly dislocated, emitting a dry, hoarse sound like a damaged bellows, mechanically repeating the same phrase over and over:
"Infirmary… go to the infirmary… it's… safe there…"
"Infirmary… safe…"
His voice had a strange echo, swirling in the stairwell.
My gaze instinctively fell to his chest. His school badge was flipped over, showing the blank back. But in the peripheral glow of Christopher's flashlight, I clearly saw, printed on the back in dark red, like dried blood… an inverted, blurry school crest!
A chill colder than the Prefects' gaze shot up my spine, straight to the crown of my head.
"Don't trust him!!" Emily screamed, her voice sharp and distorted with extreme fear. "The rules! The rules never mentioned the infirmary! The auditorium! The map marked the auditorium!!"
But Christopher stared intently at Jacob's half-embedded body, then quickly glanced down the other corridor leading to the infirmary. That path did look shorter, the light seemed slightly brighter, and… no Prefects in sight down there.
A muscle twitched in his cheek, his eyes showing intense conflict. The auditorium was the rule-implied safe zone, but it was farther, and who knew what lay on the path. The infirmary was right here, and though Jacob's state was bizarre, his repeated words… could they be… a hint?
"Damn it!" Christopher grit his teeth, making a sudden decision, his voice commanding. "Listen to Jacob! Take the gamble! To the infirmary! Move!!"
Marcus reacted almost instantly, immense desire for survival erasing his hesitation. He turned and sprinted down the infirmary corridor.
Emily and I hesitated for a second. Looking at Jacob's half-embedded body still twitching slightly, hearing his haunting "Infirmary safe" echoing in our ears, then at the pitch-black stairwell leading to the auditorium… Ultimately, fear trumped reason. Gritting our teeth, we followed Christopher almost simultaneously.