The rules were simple.
Four players would enter a sealed room with all doors and windows shut. Each would stand in one of the four corners, marked numerically from 1 to 4. Once the lights were turned off, the game would begin—with every player facing the corner.
Player 1 would start, walking clockwise to Player 2's position. Upon confirming someone's presence, they would lightly tap Player 2's back. Player 2 would then leave the corner and move to Player 3's spot, allowing Player 1 to take their place.
The pattern would repeat: Players 2, 3, and 4 would follow the same procedure.
Under normal circumstances, Player 4 would arrive at Corner 1—now empty. Upon discovering the unoccupied corner, they were to cough once and occupy the space.
When all four corners were filled again, the game would end.
However, if Player 4 found someone already occupying Corner 1, they were to skip it and continue on to the next corner, while the others repeated the cycle. The players must continue to avoid Corner 1 until it was once again empty—only then, after a final cough and with all players in place, would the game conclude.
"In other words, if something else joins the game midway, we're supposed to ignore it. Eventually, it'll leave of its own accord because it can't integrate into the game," Erik said.
Just reading the rules made her skin crawl with goosebumps.
Why were there so many bizarre, twisted games? Erik hated this one—but hatred didn't exempt her from participating.
Player Jameson asked, "Are you saying something… *else* really appears mid-game?"
Giselle replied, "Exactly. I played this once with friends—halfway through, someone showed up in that supposedly empty corner. Nearly scared me to death! But later my friend admitted she'd snuck over on purpose to mess with us. That was in real life. But now we're in a supernatural instance… if someone appears, they're *really* not supposed to be there."
A ghost—undoubtedly a ghost.
"Oh god, what if someone loses track during the cycles and ends up tapping that… thing on the back, accidentally letting it into the rotation—" Just imagining a ghost tapping *his* back made Jameson's face turn as pale and wrung-out as a soaked rag.
"Then that person's a damn liability," another player sighed. "Still, this game could last for several rounds. By then, someone might get confused. Everyone, study the rules again—memorize them. Know exactly when to cough, when to tap a shoulder, and when to *ignore* a corner. This isn't a party trick—we mess up, we die."
As players exchanged grim remarks, newcomer Cooper's expression darkened. He still couldn't accept his new reality. He was *dead*—why the hell did he have to play some haunted game now?
Player Lillian noticed his pale face and warned, "Believe it or not, it's your choice whether to participate—but if you *do* join, then follow the rules to the letter. Don't try anything funny. If you mess around, none of us will forgive you."
Cooper initially brushed off her words—just a young girl trying to sound tough. But the intensity in Lillian's gaze silenced him. He believed her. If he tried to play tricks mid-game, she would *not* go easy on him.
"…Fine. I—I'm out. You play without me."
Erik shook her head. "The number of players is fixed—sixteen people. Each round needs four. That gives us four full teams." If Cooper didn't play, one group would be short a member—and someone from another team would have to step in. But who would want to play *twice* in this kind of horror game?
Tension instantly thickened in the air. Players began pulling others into groups. Erik moved quickly—grabbing two hands and getting tugged by a third. She released one and clasped the person pulling her.
Just like that, she had her group of four.
Three teams formed. The final team was left with only three. Their expressions soured as they pulled Cooper aside—likely to try persuading the rookie.
Now the question became—which group would go first?
No one wanted that role. Everyone hoped to watch and learn from others, increasing their own survival chances.
"Let's settle it with rock-paper-scissors. One rep from each group—four people total. The loser goes first."
Erik's team nominated her as group leader.
"Rock—paper—scissors—!"
Two threw scissors, one paper, one rock.
Stalemate.
Round two.
Three scissors, one rock.
Lillian laughed as she stepped back—her group would go last.
The remaining three continued. Round three was another draw. In round four, Erik finally won and stepped aside. Her group would be third.
After the final two decided their fate, the game officially began.
The first group entered the room. Leader Ian groped along the wall until he found the switch—a lone light flickered on above one wall. The windows and door were still open; they closed the windows first, then carefully inspected the space to ensure there were no hidden objects.
The room was pristine. Physically spotless, empty of obstacles—seemingly the ideal space to perform the Four Corners Ritual.
Erik and the others took one last glance before stepping back. The door closed.
Outside, the remaining players held their breath.
Minutes passed in silence until, finally, a cough echoed from within. The door creaked open.
The first group had completed the game successfully! Ian and the others emerged looking stunned and relieved—they hadn't expected it to go so smoothly.
Players rushed to ask questions. Ian grinned. "We just did exactly what the rules said! Walked in a circle, found Corner 1 empty, I stepped in, waited a minute, then turned the light on and opened the door."
So it seemed the first round hadn't been the most dangerous after all—it had gone without a hitch.
Seeing the joy on their faces, the others couldn't help feeling a twinge of regret. Erik felt a pang of envy. This was always a gamble, after all. Their choice to avoid the first round had been based on caution—but now there was no point in second-guessing. No one could predict how things would unfold.
The second team prepared themselves and entered.
Everyone leaned close to the door, listening intently. But time dragged on—no cough. Nothing.
They exchanged uneasy looks. No matter how slowly one moved, a full cycle should have been completed by now. The lack of a cough meant—every corner was still occupied.
Erik, well-versed in the rules, immediately tensed.
Corner 1—where Player 1 had started—was now *occupied* by something else.
Inside the pitch-dark room, Cooper stood at Corner 2, shivering with fear and doubt. The heavy expressions of the players before the game… the eerie atmosphere… he didn't want to believe it, but—was there *really* a ghost?
Grayson, the group leader, had placed Cooper in Corner 1 to protect the rookie and taken Corner 4 himself—the position most likely to encounter danger first.
If Corner 1 *wasn't* empty, Grayson would be the one to face it.
Player 3 tapped Grayson's back, signaling him to move to Corner 1.
He silently begged—*please let it be empty, please don't let anything be there.*
He followed the wall, but suddenly collided with something cold and rigid. His blood turned to ice, his throat tightening with dread.
Clenching his jaw, Grayson forced himself to remain silent—he couldn't react, or the others might misunderstand… or worse, that *thing* might.
Holding his breath, he bypassed the corner and moved toward Position 2.
Meanwhile, the other players were barely holding it together—their hearts hammering in their chests.
No cough. Something was definitely in the room.
Cooper, now at Position 4, heard footsteps and labored breathing approaching. Then a hand gently tapped his back, pressing him forward.
Go. Move forward.
He followed the wall, reaching Position 3. Then on to 4. Someone behind him tapped him again—time to move to Corner 1.
But Corner 1 wasn't empty.
He felt a figure standing there—cold as ice. A breath of frigid air brushed against his ear.
It was as though someone—tall, looming—was leaning in close, whispering death into the dark.
Cooper's blood ran cold, his limbs frozen. He was desperate to flip on the light—to *see* what had joined them. Maybe it was just a player trying to mess with the newbie!
Outside, players were growing increasingly anxious—especially the one now at Position 2. She was panicking: the person at Position 1 should be the rookie. Why wasn't he moving?
Was it possible Corner 1 had been vacated, and the rookie was now standing there?
Maybe the game was over?
Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching. A trembling hand tapped her back. She exhaled in relief—so the rookie had been stunned into stillness earlier. Now the game could continue.
Indeed, Cooper had been too frightened to move. After recovering his wits, he circled the corner and reached Position 2.
His nerves were taut as wire. Dark images swirled in his mind. His pulse pounded in his ears, palms slick with sweat.
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
He stared into the void, haunted by the encounter at Position 1.
Was that truly someone's prank… or something else?
Cooper shivered violently.