The Mark For Curse

A Game of Fear

NAM – “Oh my god. We’re going to die.”

FREEN – “Can you die quieter, please?”

Then, from the far end of the hallway, a soft giggle echoed.

A child’s giggle.

Nam immediately grabbed Freen’s arm.

NAM – “NOPE. Nope, nope, nope. Did you hear that?”

FREEN – “Yep. And unless you’ve been secretly raising demon children, that’s not ours.”

NAM – “FREEN!”

Suddenly, a ball rolled slowly out from one of the rooms. It was old, dusty, and had the faintest trail of red across it.

NAM – “…Is that blood?”

FREEN – “Or ketchup. Don’t panic. Ghost kids might just love fries.”

NAM – “I swear, if this turns into The Shining, I’m out.”

Meanwhile, Irin watched from behind a cracked mirror, snickering softly as Nam cowered and Freen tried to act brave.

Back upstairs, Becky peeked through the wall crack.

BECKY – “She’s still trying to be cool. I like her… she doesn’t run right away.”

IRIN – “Do you like her or like-like her?”

BECKY – “Irin…”

Back upstairs, Irin lay on her stomach next to Becky, peeking over the edge like a cat watching a game.

IRIN – “She’s gonna cry in, like, three seconds.”

BECKY – “Don’t make her cry. Just make them want to leave.”

IRIN – “You're no fun.”

Becky rolled her eyes but smiled faintly.

Then Freen did something unexpected. She turned and faced the photo again. Looked straight at it.

FREEN – “If you're still here, Becky… I hope you’re okay.”

Becky blinked.

That wasn’t mockery. Or fear.

It was… kind.

Irin looked over in surprise.

IRIN – “Well. That’s new.”

BECKY – “…She’s weird.”

IRIN – “She’s into you.”

BECKY – “Irin.”

IRIN – “I’m just saying!”

Becky shook her head and stood up.

BECKY – “Let’s wrap this up. One more scare and they’ll leave.”

She raised her hand—and all the lights in the hallway dimmed at once, shadows curling up the walls like fingers dragging downward.

Nam gasped and grabbed Freen’s arm tightly.

From the far end of the hallway, a faint melody began to play. An old music box tune—delicate and eerie, echoing through the silence.

Nam gasped and grabbed Freen’s arm tightly.

NAM – “That’s it. That’s the final straw. Ghost lullabies are where I draw the line!”

Freen didn’t move. She stood still, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

FREEN – “Nice try!” she shouted, her voice loud and clear, echoing through the hallway. “Very spooky. Ten out of ten for effort—but we’re not leaving.”

Upstairs, Becky blinked.

BECKY – “…Did she just talk back to my music box?”

IRIN – “Yup. And I think I love her.”

BECKY – “Oh my god.”

Freen turned to Nam, calm as ever.

FREEN – “Come on, Nam. If we let one creepy tune chase us out, we’re a disgrace to ghost hunters everywhere.”

Nam looked at her, half impressed, half horrified.

NAM – “How are you not even a little scared? We just heard a haunted lullaby!”

FREEN – “It’s like you’ve never seen a horror movie. The music box always comes before the jump scare.”

NAM – “…Exactly?”

FREEN – “And since we’re still standing, clearly the ghost is just flirting.”

NAM – “Flir—what?”

Freen grinned, already walking ahead.

FREEN – “Anyway. I’m beat. Let’s go check the bedrooms. I want the one with the least amount of bloodstains.”

Nam stared at her.

NAM – “…I am too tired to fight you. Fine. Let’s find a bed. If I get possessed in my sleep, I’m blaming you.”

They headed upstairs.

Becky and Irin scrambled out of sight, pressing against the wall as the two girls passed—completely unaware of the invisible watchers.

IRIN – “Are they seriously staying the night?”

BECKY – “Apparently.”

IRIN – “What now?”

Becky looked thoughtful, her eyes still fixed on Freen’s retreating figure.

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