After mintues of explaining and assigning.
The moment the last nod was given, the air around us seemed to crackle with tension. We were no longer just students in a classroom; we were trapped in a game of survival, and the rules had shifted. Our fate was in our hands, but I wasn't sure if any of us were ready for what came next.
I glanced around the room. The others were starting to look less like scared 14-year-olds and more like soldiers preparing to face an enemy they didn't fully understand. And The name characters like Tommy, for all his sarcasm, was gripping a chair like he might throw it at any second. Lena was already in position by the door, watching the room, ready to move at the slightest sound. Ryan was still pale, but his eyes were sharp now, focused, like he had realized he was in way deeper than he'd ever intended.
And then there was James. James, my best friend. He was standing beside me, his brow furrowed in concentration, his gaze fixed on the chalkboard. His mind was sharp, reading the atmosphere around us like it was the back of his hand. I could tell he was starting to pick up on something—I knew it. Whatever power Mr. Chalk had over this place, James was feeling it, telepathically. He was holding it back, though, pushing against it with all his strength. His jaw clenched like he was fighting off something.
"Jake," James murmured, his voice low. "I can feel him..It feels like he is getting close."
Pretending that I didn't know his power was "Weird for you to say that but... Okay" I nodded, glancing at the others. "We can do this."
"Sophie," I said, turning to her. She was already trembling, but she was the one with the most important task. "You ready?"
She gave me a tight, anxious nod. "I don't know if I can, but I don't see another choice."
"Good," I said with a strained smile. "Remember, if you mess up, we die."
Sophie took a deep breath, steadying herself. She was more determined now, not quite ready, but ready enough.
"Alright," I said, gathering my thoughts. "First rule: no looking at the board."
Almost immediately, the air grew colder, and I could feel the presence—Mr. Chalk's energy—seeping into the room. The walls creaked, like they were groaning under some unseen weight. I didn't need to look at the chalkboard to know what was happening. I could feel it—the sinister power that was closing in.
"Lena," I said, pointing to the girl by the door. "Board duty. Cover it if it starts acting up. We can't let it get a foothold."
Lena nodded, then grabbed a gym shirt from her bag, throwing it over the chalkboard like a makeshift curtain. It wasn't much, but it was crucial. If we didn't keep the board hidden, we'd lose.
"Break the Original Chalk." I gestured to Ryan. "Your turn."
Ryan hesitated for a second, his hands shaking, but then he walked to the teacher's desk. He found the loose floorboard I had mentioned, pulling it up with effort. Beneath it lay the dreaded chalk—infused with some dark, unnatural energy. It looked greasy, as if it had been touched by something foul, something ancient. A pulse of power radiated from it, making me feel queasy.
"Do it, Ryan." I urged, my voice tight with tension.
Ryan swallowed, staring at the chalk. "This better work." he muttered, then snapped the chalk in half.
For a moment, nothing happened. The room was eerily still. I held my breath.
Then, everything went wrong.
The room shook violently, the walls groaning like they were being torn apart. The lights flickered. A loud crack echoed through the room, followed by an unmistakable, bone-chilling whisper.
"Who dares... break my chalk?"
The temperature plummeted. It wasn't just cold anymore—it felt like the air had turned to ice. A suffocating pressure built in the room, like the walls were closing in on us. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, my heart racing.
"He's coming," James whispered, his voice filled with dread.
"Yeah, no kidding, genius." I muttered under my breath. This was the moment I knew we were in trouble. I could feel the malevolent energy pressing against us, trying to crush us into submission.
"Get the line backward!" I shouted, my voice strained with urgency. "Now!"
Sophie blinked, the fear written all over her face, but she didn't hesitate. She took a shaky breath and began speaking the forbidden line. "I will not speak when it is not my turn."
Her voice wavered as she recited the words, but she had to do it right—she had to flip it.
"Not my turn when speak not will I."
The room fell silent for a split second. Time seemed to freeze, the world holding its breath. Then—
The chalkboard shimmered, cracks spreading across its surface like a spiderweb. The air crackled with dark energy, and the ghostly presence of Mr. Chalk was stronger than ever.
"Good job, Sophie," I said, my voice strained. My heart raced with anxiety. This wasn't supposed to happen. Breaking the chalk was supposed to seal him away, not make him stronger.
We had to act fast.
"Rule four!" I yelled, adrenaline flooding my system. "Chaos! We need to make this place a mess!"
Tommy's eyes lit up, and for the first time since this nightmare started, he grinned. Without a word, he grabbed a chair and flipped it over, sending it crashing to the ground. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"We've got one shot!" I screamed, urging the others to follow suit. "Flip the desks! Mess up the room!"
James, Lena, and the rest of the group followed, throwing desks, chairs, and whatever they could grab. The room was quickly becoming a warzone. The chaos was our only chance—it was the one thing Mr. Chalk feared.
And then, everything went still.
The air thickened, heavy with tension, like we were all suffocating under the pressure. The dark energy pressed in around us, like something was closing in.
But I wouldn't back down. I couldn't.
I glanced at my Attention-Seeker System,.
I had used 10 Attention Points to unlock the shop, leaving him with 20 remaining. I had no idea how this system worked, but right now, I needed every advantage he could get.
I stared at the list in the shop, weighing my options quickly. The clock was ticking, and the oppressive silence only made it worse. The tension in the room was palpable, like the walls themselves were about to collapse under the weight of Mr. Chalk's looming presence.
Candles… I'd already used one to light up the room, but it hadn't been enough to stop Mr. Chalk's power. Still, I had no choice. I needed something to hold him back. Without thinking twice, I selected the Candles for 10 points.
(I got a match and a candle on my bag back then you know why because I am a prankster)
Oh shit…I can't let them see this materialize out of thin air. My thoughts raced as I quickly acted. I reached into my bag as if it were just another instinct, pulling the candles out from a hidden spot. No one had seen them appear, and I made sure the movement looked casual.
I couldn't risk anyone thinking I had special powers or tricks up my sleeve, not with everything falling apart around us. The last thing I needed was for anyone to get suspicious.
I lit the candles, placing them carefully around the room, their flickering flames casting long shadows. The faint glow seemed to be the only thing holding back the overwhelming darkness. But even as I moved, the weight of the room was pressing harder, the tension growing by the second.
I focused, ignoring the interface that flickered in my peripheral vision. The pressure from Mr. Chalk was increasing, and I could feel the pull towards that board again.
I turned to the others, urgency in my voice. "We need to buy time. Keep moving. Don't let him get control again."
Tommy, Lena, and the rest of the group were moving in a flurry, throwing desks and chairs around to create as much chaos as possible. But I could feel it. Something was still pulling us back to that board.
…
James' POV
I couldn't help but stare at Jake, my best friend, as he pulled out those candles from his bag. How the hell did he have so many candles in there? I blinked, trying to make sense of it. He hadn't been carrying anything like that earlier, and yet here they were, glowing faintly in his hands.
I kept my focus on him for a moment longer, trying to figure out what was going on. Was he really hiding something? Was there a trick to it, or was I just overthinking this?
Then, I quickly turned my attention back to Mr. Chalk. The pressure in the room was unbearable, but I had to keep track of where he was. Using my telepathy, I reached out, sensing his position and the chaotic energy swirling around him. I tried to block out the panic and the creeping fear. This wasn't the time to get distracted by Jake's candles.
Sorry, guys... I can't use my telekinesis here, not now. I thought to myself, frustration building. I'm not ready to show it yet and I wasn't about to expose it without thinking things through.
For now, I had to stay focused—on Jake, on Mr. Chalk, and most importantly, on keeping everyone alive in this room. MR. Chalk...His presence twisted around us like barbed wire—tight, angry, desperate. He was trying to cling to the classroom, to the structure, to the rules.
I could feel the pieces falling into place.
Sophie had already done her part—her voice trembling but clear as she whispered the forbidden line backwards.
"Not my turn when speak not will I."
"Not my turn when speak not will I."
"Not my turn when speak not will I."
It cracked his control. I felt the binding weaken.
Ryan had done his job too. snapping the original chalk stick in two like what Jake told him. That sharp crack still echoed in my mind. It was like breaking a bone.
His anchor shattered.
Then Lena and Tommy moved. Desks flipped. Books flew. The neat rows dissolved into chaos. The order Mr. Chalk needed—his structure, his sanctuary—was gone. It all fell apart like dominoes.
Jake struck the match.
The candlelight flickered to life. A simple flame, but it burned in defiance of every cold, buzzing ceiling light Mr. Chalk was tied to.
One final thread.
I closed my eyes and reached out. I felt his grip slipping. The presence recoiled, snarled, thrashed—then began to fray. No power. No rules to enforce. The illusion of control snapped.
A final screech—unnatural, furious, drowning in frustration—
And then...
He was gone.
No flash. No goodbye. Just absence. A void where something unholy had once lingered.
The silence that followed was deafening.
We stood still, the overturned desks and torn paper around us like the aftermath of a storm.
Jake didn't say anything. He just watched the candle flicker. Calm. Like he wasn't surprised.
But I kept watching him.
He knew every step. Knew the match had to be used—not a lighter. Knew where to set the flame. He acted like he'd done this before.
He was hiding something.
Just like me.
But for now, I said nothing.
We had survived.
To be continue