"Please, let go of me!" Angel cried, his voice cracking as he struggled against the hands gripping his arms.
He twisted and turned, trying to break free, but his efforts were met with a hard punch to the stomach. The air left his lungs in a wheeze as he doubled over in pain, clutching his midsection and biting down the urge to vomit.
"Shut up," said Jin Shirasawa coldly, towering over him. "Before I do something unforgivable in this forest."
Angel blinked through the tears welling in his eyes. Why…? What did I do wrong? The question looped in his mind like a curse. Was I born to be tormented? What sin did I commit to deserve this?
Betrayal sat bitter on his tongue. He hadn't expected his own friends—if they could still be called that—to lure him into this trap. He looked at Jiro Yamamoto, the one who'd invited him out under the guise of exploring something "cool," and felt a new wave of nausea—not from pain, but from the realization of betrayal.
The group trekked deeper into the forest, their shoes crunching dry leaves underfoot. Eventually, they came upon a forgotten mansion standing like a corpse in the woods—its windows shattered, its walls strangled by creeping ivy, and its roof half-collapsed under the weight of time. A chilling stillness hung over the estate, broken only by the rustling wind.
"This it?" Jin asked, his arms crossed as he took in the dilapidated structure.
"Yeah," Jiro confirmed, grinning. "Totally abandoned. No one's been here in years. We can do whatever we want."
Angel caught the gleam in Jiro's eye and looked away, a cold sense of dread settling over him.
Without resistance, he followed them inside.
The mansion's entrance hall was a tomb of dust and decay. Cobwebs draped from the chandeliers like skeletal shrouds. The air was heavy with the scent of mold, age, and something else—something vaguely metallic and wrong.
"This is just like the mansions we saw in those horror movies," Jin said with a laugh, stepping on a brittle, broken floor tile.
"Don't say that!" snapped Airi Makino, clutching Jin's arm. She was both his girlfriend and Angel's number one tormentor in class. Her voice held a tremor she failed to hide.
"Let's explore this abandoned shit!" Jin declared, his bravado masking unease.
As they stepped further in, the entrance doors slammed shut behind them with a thunderous clap. Dust erupted into the air, and Airi screamed.
"What the hell?!" Jin turned back. He rattled the handles, but they refused to budge. "Must've been the wind," he muttered, though his voice sounded uncertain. "Come on."
The group pressed on, deeper into the forgotten halls. Each room they passed was adorned with portraits—an oddly specific repetition of a blond-haired man with piercing eyes. The same face appeared over and over, haunting the walls like a silent sentinel.
"I'm starting to get creeped out..." Jiro murmured.
An unnatural chill began to seep into the air, prickling their skin. It wasn't just the cold—it was the feeling of being watched, of eyes crawling along their spines.
Then came the footsteps.
Soft, deliberate, and unmistakably real—they echoed from the next room, one after another, stopping just as abruptly as they began.
"You said it was abandoned!" Jin barked at Jiro, panic breaking into his voice.
"I—it is!" Jiro stammered.
Then, with a groan, a door to their right creaked open. A black stairwell yawned beneath it, spiraling into a pitch-black basement.
"Let's just check it out," Jin said, covering his fear with irritation. "Might as well see what's down there."
One by one, they descended, leaving Airi to watch their backs. She hesitated, glancing down the corridor one last time. Her eyes widened.
Something stood at the end of the hallway. It was small—no taller than a child—but grotesquely malformed. Its head was too large, its ears unnaturally pointed, its limbs spindly and thin like gnarled branches.
And then it moved.
It sprinted toward her, its limbs jerking violently.
"Down! Get down!" Jin roared, pulling her down the stairs and slamming the basement door shut behind her.
"There was something up there!" she cried, trembling.
"It's your imagination," Jin snapped. "You've watched too many horror movies."
Angel followed them into the basement's suffocating darkness. The air was thick with the stench of death—like spoiled meat left out in the sun. They stumbled through the dark until they entered a room where fractured sunlight trickled through high windows, illuminating dust motes in the air.
In the center stood a coffin.
"...Is that...?" Airi whispered.
Jiro moved before anyone could stop him, prying the coffin open with a loud creak. The smell that burst forth was worse than anything before—a miasma of rot and decay that clawed at their throats.
Inside lay a skeleton, its bony arms wrapped around a diamond-shaped vial filled with crimson liquid.
"No way..." Jin whispered.
He reached into the coffin and pried the vial from the corpse's grip. The instant it left the skeleton's hands, Angel shivered. A cold dread blossomed in his chest.
Jin turned to him, smiling darkly.
"Hold him."
Jiro grabbed Angel from behind. Before he could resist, Jin forced open his mouth.
"Don't worry," he said mockingly. "You've drunk worse, haven't you?"
He poured the red liquid into Angel's mouth. It was bitter—metallic, ancient, wrong. Angel tried to spit it out, but Jin pinched his nose, forcing him to swallow.
As soon as the liquid passed his throat, something inside Angel twisted violently. He gasped, grabbing his stomach, the pain worse than anything he'd felt before.
"H-help..." he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Shit... what if he dies?" Airi asked, real fear in her voice now.
"We'll just leave him here. No one'll find him," Jin said, but even he was starting to sweat.
Then came the creak.
The basement door slowly opened.
"J-Jin..." Airi clutched his arm.
They turned—and froze.
Angel was still.
His skin had lost all color, turning pale and dry like ash. His lips were blue. No breath escaped his mouth.
Jiro placed a hand to Angel's chest.
"He's cold. No heartbeat."
Panic set in.
"We need to leave. Now!" Airi screamed.
They turned to leave, hurrying past Angel's corpse.
But Angel was no longer dead.
His eyes snapped open—crimson and glowing.
He rose, slow and silent, his body jerking unnaturally. Fangs extended from his mouth, sharper than a lion's, gleaming in the dim light. Something deep and monstrous stirred inside him.
Craving.
Jiro and Airi hurried ahead, unaware.
Then they realized.
Jin was gone.
"Jin?" Jiro called.
Airi looked back—and screamed.
Angel had pounced on Jin, his fangs sunk deep into the top of his skull. Blood streamed down Jin's face as Angel drank hungrily, like a beast at a watering hole.
Jiro and Airi could only watch in frozen horror as their friend twitched, then went still—forever silenced.
The mansion wasn't abandoned.
It had simply been waiting—for a sacrifice.