Chapter 38: Testing
Cold wind funneled in, stripping the gym of any traces of warmth still lingering.
Miles could feel the warmth within him fighting back, pushing against the cold numbing his skin. A losing battle. But the fact there was even a battle was enough; it bought him some time.
The hunger and weakness plaguing him grew proportionally in response, but he pushed through them, raising a hand over his eyes to block the wind.
It was dark, almost as dark as the gym. Whatever light existed outside was mostly devoured by the snow and storm, letting only a dim glow emit from the open window.
He felt a tap on his shoulder.
Turning, Ryan stood behind him, hands outstretched, offering him a white plastic flashlight.
"We found it while digging through the storage room."
Miles nodded, wordlessly accepting it. Flicking it on, he flooded the narrow pathway in white light.
His eyes trained on the tiles beneath him.
’What’s the issue here?’
The first time they stepped out of the room, they’d made it to the front of the window before falling under the illusion.
He had been able to break through using [Delusion], only to fall back in the moment he tried entering the gym again.
Ryan and the others that had helped him bring the scouting group inside were entirely unaffected. Plus, there was also the fact that Morgan and the rest began waking up the moment they were brought back in.
’At least according to what Ryan later told me.’
He looked up and down the length of the corridor, pondering.
’Then the corridor is definitely under the anomaly’s domain. Is it a matter of distance then? How many steps are here?’
His theory on how the anomaly functioned largely depended on that. It was something he’d put together after Chloe inspected Bloody Mary.
Originally, he would’ve wanted Chloe to try inspecting this anomaly as well. But given the fact that she hadn’t been forthcoming with that information already, he imagined there was something stopping her from doing so.
’Likely the fact that we don’t even know what we’re dealing with here.’
It was hard to tell if the anomaly was the school itself or something hiding in the school.
Regardless, there was only one way to confirm his theory now. Looking back, he spoke.
"I want to try something."
Morgan looked at him a little anxiously.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Don’t drag me back if I fall. I should be able to break through the illusion on my own."
Though with the principal’s new rule on sleeping, even that wasn’t enough to get him out of hot water.
Did falling under an illusion count as sleeping? Only the principal knew.
Morgan hesitated before nodding. They’d already made it this far; there was little point in worrying now.
With that, Miles stepped out, taking a single measured step into the corridor.
’One.’
He took another.
’Two.’
Then another, and another after that, keeping his mental count as he did so.
Slowly, he made his way towards the end.
’Eleven... twelve.’
He stopped right at the edge, the final count still ringing in his mind. He was almost certain about his theory now.
There was a story he knew, though he couldn’t be sure if it was Japanese or American, about a set of twelve steps that become thirteen at midnight. If anyone were to mistakenly climb the thirteenth step, they’d be transferred to another world.
Putting it like that, it sounded eerily similar to the case with the hallway. Except, the hallway wasn’t a stairway, and secondly, the time hadn’t been midnight when they fell under the illusion.
But that didn’t really matter either way. After all, Bloody Mary wasn’t obeying the rules of the creepypasta either.
Additionally, everything else would make sense too. They all fell into the illusion because they took thirteen steps outside.
Ryan and the others took twelve steps forward and twelve steps back, so perhaps it didn’t count for them.
And Miles himself had taken thirteen steps while heading back to the gym. Explaining why he’d fallen just before entering.
’Thirteen steps in one direction.’
He looked down at the ground before him, even as the harsher wind stripped more of his heat away, the darkness of the snow outside devouring the light from his flashlight.
If this was the same as the Bloody Mary anomaly, how in the world was he going to break it then?
He considered taking a step backwards to reset his count before moving forward. But it really wouldn’t be breaking his count then; he’d still overall be taking thirteen steps in one direction.
’Maybe I’m thinking of this the wrong way.’
Since the anomaly was based off a creepypasta regarding stairs, then perhaps it was best to think of each step in terms of stairs.
The goal was avoiding that thirteenth step.
Stepping backwards, then forwards, would still be landing him on the thirteenth step.
Taking a single large step to avoid it sounded logical if he still looked at it as stairs, but it was not very logical in terms of a corridor. After all, a large step was still a thirteenth step.
’What about hopping?’
Hopping over a thirteenth step would certainly avoid it on a stairwell. It also didn’t count as an actual step in terms of the corridor.
’Hmm... only one way to find out.’
Taking a deep breath, he bent his knees, then jumped forward, landing in front of the window. Balancing himself, he looked around to make sure he was still in reality. He was, though the wind and snow whipping his hair around were enough to tell already.
He gave a thumbs-up to the crowd still in the gym. He wasn’t able to see much, if any, of their reactions through all the flashlights trained on him. The snow billowing around him didn’t exactly help either.
There was only one more thing to check now.
If the count had reset.
Miles stared at the ground below him. On the off chance he was wrong and the count didn’t reset, then he would very likely fall into the illusion. And if the principal considered that sleeping, there was a very real chance he’d end up dead.
He took the step.
The accumulated snow crunched beneath his shoes. The wind still whistled around him, its sharp blades still taking away his precious warmth.
In front of him, the window still remained shattered. Beyond it, a roaring storm of snow devoured all.
It worked.