Chapter Text
Denki watched as Ejiro rounded a corner ahead of them, clinging onto Mina like she was the only thing keeping him together in this dimly lit, disorienting hellscape. The hallways twisted and turned like veins in a body; the walls had numerous holes, and he could swear he heard breathing from the other sides of them; light was scarce, a commodity that apparently none of them could afford.
"It's alright, guys," Ejiro called, hands on his hips as he glanced to them, then back down the hallway. "It's safe." The three of them crept forward, Hanta rounding the corner, before the other two- who remained stuck together like glue- followed. When the hell would they find the exit? He thought this was "'haha spooky' time" not "'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here' time." They moved slowly down the hallway, halfway down when his greatest fears about the suspicious holes were confirmed.
Hands, monstrous and bloody, sprang from the walls as a crazed, clearly prerecorded laugh sounded from a hidden speaker. Denki and Mina screamed bloody murder, barreling down the hall with hands still locked together for emotional support. Yep, whoever designed this place was a sadist. What person of sound mind and body thought wall hands were a good idea?
The four caught their breath in the next small area between hallways. It was oddly quiet in there. Calm in a way nowhere else in the house was. It was fucking terrifying. Denki had gotten used to the noise by now, even if it still nearly made him jump out of his skin. He could handle a ghoulish moan or the sound of mechanical props moving. He could handle the creepy whispers played from speakers. He could handle it. He was brave. But that silence meant something deeper. Something much, much worse. That silence meant something was coming.
Just then, it was broken by the deep bass of a heartbeat, rattling the floor. Oh hell no. He did not volunteer for houses with beating hearts and wall hands. A dim light in the room flickered, and he caught sight of one of the holes in the wall in the previous hallway. Oddly realistic blood and gore is what greeted him. He clutched his stomach, amazed his dinner was still right where it was twenty minutes ago.
"We should probably keep moving," Hanta said. "I'm not sure how much more Mina and Denki can handle."
"I'm about five seconds from losing my mind," Mina laughed nervously. "Who made this?"
"Whoever it is, they sure knew what they were doing." Ejiro crossed his arms, peering down the next hallway. "We should be getting close to the end relatively soon."
"Ah, yes. Relatively soon," Denki whined. "How comforting."
"Better than being right back at the start?" Mina offered.
"C'mon, I'll take point," Ejiro said, starting down the hall. The other three followed slowly behind, keeping a distance from him in case there were any traps. You never knew in a haunted house, and especially not this one. They'd had everything from killer clowns to wall people, all the way to a crazy ass acrobat crawling around the supports for where a ceiling should have been. Traps on the floor weren't out of the question.
An earsplitting, bloodcurdling cackle ripped through the air. That, he realized, was no recording. Not this time. He turned around, damn near finding himself rooted in place. What greeted him was a man with shaggy, purple hair; a hunched, almost animalistic posture; dark, tattered clothes; a simple, white mask with black and red tears streaming from the eyes and mouth; and worst of all, a knife. This time, the threat was real. The man charged them, demonstrating a surprising amount of speed as he blitzed down the hallway toward them.
"Haha, scooters!" Hanta yelled, taking off. Ejiro followed, with Mina damn near having to drag him behind. His legs didn't seem to want to work all of the sudden, not supporting his weight. He felt sick, his vision got blurry. He barely heard his friends calling his name before...
He came to as his friends lifted him out of the house and to a quiet seating area, adjacent to the lobby. "Woah, man," Ejiro soothed, pushing him back into the chair as he'd apparently tried to leave. "Simmer down, you're safe. You just fainted is all."
"I...fainted?" he mused. That was new.
"You okay?" Ejiro asked.
"Yeah...I'm fine. Just still a little woozy, I guess." He gripped his head, a futile attempt to stop the brain fog and still the unmoving motion of the world.
"Good," Hanta breathed. "That was scary as hell."
Mina laughed. "Yeah, probably even scarier than the masked maniac with a machete."
"Probably?" Hanta giggled.
A knock on the door halted their conversation. Ejiro looked to Denki, taking any queue for strange company from him. Upon finding no resistance to the intrusion, he called, "come in."
The door creaked open slowly, revealing the same tattered black clothes and purple hair. Only difference in the stranger was his slouched posture reading as more human than beast, and his lack of mask. Instead of a machete- which in hindsight, was most likely fake- he carried a full bottle of water, fresh condensation coating its exterior. "Hey, uh, it's the masked maniac with the machete," he deadpanned. "Thought your friend might need some water." He offered the bottle to Hanta, who was closest to the door, before he gestured for him to give Denki the bottle himself. He trotted over, and Denki took the bottle from his hand.
"Thank you," he said. The strange, purple haired man nodded, before he turned to leave. "Take as much time as you need." He shut the door behind him.
"Well, that was nice of him," Mina said. "I guess it's the least he can do after scaring you shitless."
"Yeah," Denki sighed, having chugged half the bottle already. "I guess so."