Chapter 3: The Elderly Ghost
Right, the mysterious safety instructor had etched these mystifying words across the classroom’s vast blackboard with quick, determined strokes. “Only ghosts can stop ghosts. Every ghost follows a unique pattern.” His hands moved with a kind of grave conviction, sending whispers of incredulity and consternation bouncing through the crowd of students assembled for this late-night lecture.
The atmosphere inside the classroom hummed with confusion, a palpable energy of skepticism that matched the late hour. Whispers floated through the room, carrying sentiments of skepticism towards the man, a chorus of murmurs that questioned his sanity. They questioned whether this was indeed a formal safety lecture or simply the scattered ramblings of a man unhinged.
Eventually, laughter snaked its way around the room, subtle at first, then growing bolder, students dismissing the grim declarations with jocular cynicism. All save for one: Miles, who wore an expression of contemplative apprehension, his mind drifting back to an eerie story he’d stumbled upon online and the accompanying photo that had left him disquieted. He wondered if the world was changing in ways he couldn’t comprehend.
Despite the undertones of dismissal from the kids, Right continued, his eyes reddened and tired, “If any of you have questions, or if anything unusual is happening around you, don’t hesitate to ask. Otherwise, our safety lecture ends here.”
There was an unspoken agreement amongst the students; no hands ventured upward to pose a query.
However, as Miles was on the cusp of asking Right about the photograph he’d discovered on an online forum, the classroom lights dimmed unexpectedly, thrusting the room’s atmosphere into an unsettling vibe.
The moment the lights waned, Right tensed on stage, his eyes darting around the room in alert apprehension. Following the gaze, Miles’s eyes were drawn to a figure standing in the hallway, visible through the large classroom window. Fear, chilling and immediate, seized him, rendering him temporarily immobile.
An elderly man, draped in a dark robe that appeared almost spectral, stood outside. His eyes, an unnerving gray-white, stared into the room with an unblinking intensity. He radiated a palpable malevolence, the hallway behind him swallowed by a murky darkness that seemed to seep through the window, slowly infecting the classroom like mercury spreading across a flat surface.
Near the figure, the wall seemed to age rapidly, paint flaking away as if subjected to many years of neglect in mere seconds. Moss crawled over the surface, creeping outward as the wallpaper darkened, curling and peeling away, and the stale scent of decay began to permeate the room.