Chapter 3: No Way Out

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‎Jack woke up before the sun.

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‎Not because he wanted to. Because the bell at the front desk rang again — sharp, echoing through the old inn like it had been struck inside his skull.

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‎He sat up fast, drenched in sweat despite the morning chill.

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‎Everything felt off.

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‎The painting on the wall — the fox one — was gone.

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‎In its place hung a mirror.

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‎One he definitely hadn’t seen last night.

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‎He approached it, heart stuttering. For a second, his reflection didn’t move when he did.

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‎Then it snapped into sync, like it had lagged. Jack stumbled back.

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‎“Okay. No. Nope.”

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‎In the hallway, everyone looked rough. Riku’s hoodie was inside out, Sora had smudged mascara, and Yumi held her tea with both hands like it was a lifeline.

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‎“I had a dream again,” she said. “The girl was at the foot of my futon.”

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‎“Girl?” Daichi asked, voice hoarse.

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‎“The same one Jack saw. Long hair. White robe.”

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‎“She said something this time,” Luna added quietly. “She told me... ‘The truth lives on the third floor.’”

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‎Jack froze. “The floor we’re not supposed to go to.”

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‎“Maybe that’s where she’s trapped,” Yumi said. “Or hiding. Maybe she wants help.”

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‎“Or maybe it’s a trap,” Riku muttered, arms crossed. “Like a horror movie. Go where you're told not to and—boom. Cursed forever. Dead by dinner.”

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‎“Relax,” Sora said. “Let’s just go home.”

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‎“YES. Let’s go home!” Riku grabbed his bag. “Finally, someone with sense.”

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‎The group gathered their things, still jumpy from the night. They marched to the front door, Jack leading with keys he found at the front desk.

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‎He shoved the key into the old lock, twisted—

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‎Nothing.

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‎The key turned. The lock clicked.

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‎But the door didn’t open.

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‎Riku tried. Then Daichi.

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‎They pulled. Kicked. Slammed their shoulders into it.

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‎Nothing.

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‎No give. No creak. Just cold, solid wood.

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‎“Check the windows,” Jack said.

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‎They scattered through the inn, trying every sliding window, every paper screen, every possible exit.

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‎Everything led back to the same thing:

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‎They were locked in.

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‎The house… wasn’t letting them go.

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‎By mid-morning, tension was climbing fast.

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‎“I checked the kitchen,” Daichi reported. “There’s food, but no expiration dates. Everything’s fresh. Too fresh.”

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‎Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”

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‎“I mean I opened a pack of tofu and steam came out like someone just cooked it. And there’s rice. Hot. In the pot.”

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‎“No one’s cooking it?” Yumi asked.

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‎Daichi shook his head.

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‎“That’s it,” Riku snapped. “This place is haunted. Straight-up. Evil spirits. Demon house. We’re cursed.”

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‎“Or tested,” Yumi said quietly.

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‎Sora raised an eyebrow. “Tested?”

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‎Yumi looked around the room. “Japanese folklore talks about yūrei — spirits who are trapped because of unfinished business. But sometimes... they trap the living with them.”

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‎Luna nodded. “They want something.”

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‎“From us?” Jack asked.

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‎“Maybe not from all of us,” Yumi whispered. “Maybe just… from one.”

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‎The room went silent.

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‎It started getting weirder by the hour.

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‎Daichi’s phone buzzed with a message from a contact that didn’t exist:

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‎> "Do you regret it?"

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‎When he opened it, it disappeared.

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‎Riku swore he saw his grandmother sitting in the hallway. She died two years ago.

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‎Sora found her tarot deck scattered on her futon in a perfect circle — all cards face-up, all Death.

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‎And Luna…

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‎Luna found a letter in her bag. One she never packed.

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‎Handwritten. In her mother’s handwriting.

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‎> "You know what you did. It’s time to stop pretending."

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‎She didn’t tell anyone.

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‎But her hands shook when she folded it back up.

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‎By sunset, the air was so thick it felt like breathing soup.

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‎“I say we go to the third floor,” Jack finally said, breaking the silence.

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‎Everyone looked up.

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‎Riku groaned. “Of course the foreigner wants to trigger the final boss.”

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‎“We’ve tried everything else. We’re not getting out of here unless we understand what this place wants,” Jack said.

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‎Yumi looked thoughtful. “I think it already knows we’re considering it. It’s like it’s... listening.”

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‎Luna met Jack’s gaze. “Then we go.”

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‎No one argued.

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‎The stairs creaked beneath their weight as they climbed, flashlight beams shaking in the dim corridor. The air turned colder the higher they went — like the house was exhaling frost.

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‎The third floor wasn’t like the rest.

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‎No lanterns. No decorations. Just dust, silence, and closed doors.

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‎They walked slowly, each step echoing loud enough to wake ghosts.

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‎Sora held onto Daichi’s sleeve like a lifeline.

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‎Riku walked behind, muttering “nope, nope, nope” under his breath.

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‎Then Jack saw it.

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‎A single room. Door open. Flickering light inside.

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‎It was calling them.

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‎Inside, the room was empty. Just tatami mats and a small shrine in the corner.

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‎On the shrine sat a photo — a girl in a white kimono. Her face blurry.

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‎Beside it: incense. Still burning.

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‎“How is it lit?” Sora whispered. “We didn’t bring matches.”

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‎Luna stepped forward, staring at the photo.

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‎“I’ve seen her,” she said. “In my dreams.”

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‎Yumi picked up a slip of paper beside the shrine. Her face paled as she read it aloud:

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‎> “Speak what haunts you. Or remain here forever.”

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‎Jack swallowed. “You think it means... confess?”

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‎“Probably,” Yumi said. “Japanese spirits like closure. Truth. You lie to yourself, you get trapped.”

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‎“Okay then,” Riku stepped forward, jaw tight. “I’ll go first.”

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‎Everyone turned.

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‎“I didn’t visit my grandma when she was sick. I was scared. I lied and said I had soccer, but I just… didn’t want to see her like that.”

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‎Silence.

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‎Then… the incense flared once.

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‎Jack blinked. “Was that—good?”

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‎Sora stepped forward, voice shaky. “I pretend I’m happy all the time. Glitter, jokes, outfits — it’s a mask. I hate being alone.”

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‎Another flare.

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‎Daichi came next. “I cheated on my entrance exam. I told everyone I passed fair, but I hacked it. I felt like I had to, or I’d let my parents down.”

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‎Flare.

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‎Yumi stepped up. “I said I didn’t miss my sister when she moved away. But I do. I cry about it sometimes.”

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‎Flare.

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‎Luna stayed back.

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‎Jack waited.

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‎Everyone looked at her.

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‎Luna didn’t move.

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‎“Luna?” Jack said gently.

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‎She turned her head, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I can’t.”

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‎“You have to,” Yumi whispered.

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‎“No,” Luna said, backing away. “Not yet.”

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‎The incense flickered wildly now. Smoke curling toward the ceiling.

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‎And the floor beneath them groaned.

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‎Cracked.

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‎“We need to go,” Jack said.

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‎Too late.

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‎The door slammed shut.

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‎And the lights went out.

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‎End of Chapter 3

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