Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary!

Chapter 743: VILE – 303 [6]

His eyes remained on mine, empty in the same way as the other children’s.

For just the briefest of moments, I froze, my hand tensing slightly.

Did…

Did he hear me?

I glanced towards the folded note beneath my book. It could’ve been how they were taught to write, but even the spacing looked similar.

‘…Did you write this?’

My lips parted as I readied to ask, but—

A certain step stopped me.

Step.

I lowered my eyes and slid the paper beneath the exercise book. The boy continued looking at me while the teacher’s footsteps moved between the desks, his pencil still resting against the unfinished word.

Something touched the back of my chair. I kept writing, listening as the footsteps stopped beside us. Through the gap beneath my arm, I could see the boy’s shoes facing forward. Neither had moved towards me.

He…

He was still looking at me.

My heart pressed tighter against my chest.

The pressure against the chair increased, and not slightly.

Rattle! Rattle!

The entire chair started to rattle, as if it had suddenly come alive. I immediately shifted my weight to keep it still, but it was difficult. Whatever was behind me was trying to move it even harder.

Rattle!

My heart jumped, the step ahead of me drawing closer.

‘Stop. Stop.’

But it didn’t stop.

It kept rattling, the things on my desk slowly shifting toward the edge. Sweat trickled down the side of my face as I moved my hands to stop them from falling.

I could feel the noticeable shift in the classroom as the rattling grew worse, and just as another step echoed, the same grave voice whispered into the air.

“Eyes on your work.”

The shaking stopped in an instant.

A deafening silence followed.

Until—

The boy turned towards his book, and the teacher’s gaze fell on me.

“…..”

A suffocating pressure engulfed me from all sides, each second seemingly lasting for hours as I kept my head lowered, my attention on the papers in front of me as I held my breath.

Tik! Tik!

For just a moment, it almost felt as if I could hear time ticking inside of my head.

Step!

My heart jumped.

The teacher approached.

Step!

It was coming to me.

It was…

“….”

It stopped.

It’s gaze remained fixed on me from above, studying my every action as I continued to keep my gaze lowered. I thought it would say something, but it never did, as another step resounded a moment later, the back of my shirt damp with sweat.

I waited until the teacher moved away before easing my weight forward.

Only then did I let out a relieved breath as I turned to look at the boy next to me.

He was quietly writing, but something about him felt wrong.

My eyes narrowed, but I soon looked away.

“Next exercise.”

For the rest of the lesson, I kept the papers covered. From time to time, I could feel the boy looking over, but whenever I glanced towards him, his attention was on the page. When the teacher finally told us to put our pencils down, I was already watching his hands.

He closed his book and waited for the footsteps to leave the room. Only then did he stand, joining the children making their way outside.

By then, the teacher was already gone.

I followed a few paces behind.

The corridor had changed again. There was a staircase beyond the office now, where I’d previously seen a wall. The children walked towards it without slowing, their shoes sounding faintly against the floor.

Elon stopped beside the office window, his head turning towards the glass. I followed his gaze, but from where I stood, I could only see the coat hanging beside the inner door.

“…Elon?”

He remained there for another moment before continuing towards the stairs. I couldn’t tell whether he’d heard me.

‘What were you looking at?’

I checked the corridor before entering the office. The folder I’d searched earlier was still beneath the pigeonholes, with several sheets protruding from where I’d hurriedly put it away.

I took it out and went through the pages I’d missed.

15 October — Parent visit.

Mrs. Balle denies requesting withdrawal. States that her daughter has not returned home.

“…”

I checked the date against the telephone record in my pocket. They’d spent four days waiting for written confirmation from a woman who hadn’t made the call. Meanwhile, someone had continued marking Mara present.

‘Then whose voice did they hear?’

My thumb moved over the folded statement about Mrs. Vale. Instructions had continued coming from the classroom after her body was removed. I placed the two papers together.

Further back, I found the completion slip for the repairs.

16 October — Desk 26 returned.

Elon Ward to resume his original place. Temporary use of Desk 27 ended.

‘This is two days before they disappeared.’

I kept a finger beneath the second line as I looked towards the classroom opposite. From the doorway, I could see the empty desk near the back, its chair pushed beneath it just as I’d left it.

He’d sat there before I had.

‘…Does he know something? Is he involved in Mara’s disappearance?’

Surely he was involved to some extent… After all, he did say he met her during her absence, claiming she had a fever. I checked the remaining pages, but a footstep from above made me return the folder before I reached the end.

I took the two slips with me and followed the children upstairs. The next classroom smelled faintly of wet coats. Elon was already seated beside the only empty chair, his book open in front of him.

Twenty-six and twenty-seven. I sat down, keeping the papers tucked inside my sleeve until the teacher entered.

[02:23]

There was still plenty of time before six. I could keep following him between lessons and check the rooms along the way.

The next few hours passed like that. I learned to leave when the children did and to watch the boy rather than the teacher. Between lessons, I checked cupboards and the papers left on desks, stopping whenever footsteps interrupted the scratching of my fingers against the drawers.

Most told me nothing. Bills, lists of supplies, unfinished exercises. I kept the ones mentioning Class 3-C.

In one classroom, I found a note dated the thirteenth clipped to the register.

Elon Ward returned from the grounds after the afternoon bell. Refused to say who had told him to go outside.

Beneath it, in a different hand:

Claims he was following Mrs. Vale.

Mrs. Vale was supervising detention at the time.

I read it again while the children settled into their places. Had he been following someone, too?

I wanted to ask him, but he never gave me much of a chance. Outside the classroom, he stayed with the others. Inside, the teacher was always close enough to hear.

Once, while I was checking a cupboard, small fingers caught my sleeve. I pulled away without looking, needing both hands to lift a stack of books. By the time I remembered the touch, there was nothing beside me.

[04:46]

I put my wrist down and returned to the page. There were dates missing between the papers I’d collected. I still hadn’t found out what happened on the seventeenth, or why the entire class had been marked absent the following day.

I’d meant to check my nodes again, but there was another drawer beneath the one I’d searched.

I opened that before joining the children.

By the last lesson, I had arranged the papers inside my book in order of date. The teacher continued speaking while I went over the entries, occasionally copying a line whenever it started moving.

Elon sat beside me. His handwriting hadn’t changed, and neither had the empty look in his eyes.

I was comparing the note to his page again when the teacher stopped speaking.

“Class dismissed.”

I turned my wrist.

[06:00]

‘Already?’

I lifted my head.

The chair beside me was empty. So were the others, and when I looked towards the front, there was no one standing there.

“…Hn?”

I stood, listening for footsteps in the corridor.

However…

There was absolutely nothing.

The exercise books were gone. I looked down at my own desk, then towards the walls as the room brightened. Where the rows had been, I could see the game pods. The faint hum of my computer reached me from beside the windows.

My office.

For a little while, I remained beside the chair, holding the papers. Then I walked towards the door and pressed the handle down.

Click. Click.

It wouldn’t open. I pulled a little harder before letting go.

‘…Right.’

Whatever had trapped me before midnight was still keeping me here. The end of the school night hadn’t changed that.

I returned to my desk and sat down.

The chair was much more comfortable than the ones I’d spent the night in, and I leaned back briefly before spreading the papers across the wood.

I should’ve been angry.

I should’ve been incredibly angry and frustrated about what was happening to me.

A few hours earlier, I’d been throwing chairs at that door.

And yet—

Now, I couldn’t even be bothered to think about that as I looked at the unsigned note and stared at it intently.

“What are you hiding?”

VILE – 303?

“…What is the truth behind you?”

This was all I could think about.