Chapter 4: The White Line
The confusion and a growing sense of helplessness began to escalate into a chaotic clamor.
They were stuck.
Alone in an old hotel, with a missing teacher, no way to contact the outside world, and the chilling strangeness of Hiroshi's impossible disappearance hanging heavy in the air.
The night was far from over.
The students, a tired and scared group, huddled together in the grand lobby.
Some were pacing, others sat on the dusty couches, their faces pale in the dim light.
The sweet, decaying floral smell seemed to press in on them, making the air feel heavy.
Every creak of the old hotel, every distant shadow, made them jump.
"What are we going to do?" Yui whispered, her voice shaky.
"We can't just stay here. But... Hiroshi? Jumping out a window? That's just... it's not like him. He's so quiet. He never pulls pranks."
"Exactly!" Sakura agreed, her voice tight with confusion.
"Hiroshi wouldn't do something like this. He barely talks, let alone plans some crazy stunt like this. This is way too much for him."
"But if it wasn't him," Kaito started, his brow furrowed, "then... what was it? And where did he go?"
He looked at his phone again, tapping the screen.
"Still no service. It must be because we're so far out of town. That's the only thing that makes sense."
"Yeah, maybe Mr. Sato just drove a little further than he meant to," Ren suggested, though he looked less confident than usual.
"He'll be back in the morning, for sure. He'll figure out what Hiroshi's up to."
Akari, trying to be practical, stood up.
"Look, we can't just sit here all night. We're exhausted.
This whole thing with Hiroshi was extreme, but he's probably just hiding somewhere, waiting for us to freak out more.
We should try to get some sleep. Maybe things will make more sense in the morning, and Hiroshi will just show up laughing, ready to explain everything."
It was a flimsy hope, but it was all they had.
The idea of staying awake and facing whatever this was, in the dark, was too much.
Slowly, the others nodded.
The idea of staying trapped inside the eerie hotel was almost as bad as facing whatever was outside.
With a shared, nervous glance, they decided to try and get some sleep.
Groups huddled together in the larger rooms, leaving the lights on, every creak of the old hotel making them jump.
They whispered theories, tried to convince themselves it was all a dream or a very elaborate, cruel prank, but the image of the broken window and the sound of that THUD kept replaying in their minds.
When the first rays of dawn finally peeked through the heavy curtains, painting the room in weak, grey light, a collective sigh of relief swept through the group.
They had made it through the night.
Nothing else had happened.
Maybe Akari was right.
Maybe Hiroshi would just pop out and say "Gotcha!"
But their relief was short-lived.
Mr. Sato was still nowhere to be found.
They called his room, knocked on his door, but there was no answer.
And their phones, still, had no network signal.
The hotel's Wi-Fi remained dead.
They were completely cut off from the outside world.
"Okay, this is serious," Kaito said, his voice grim.
"Hiroshi's prank has gone way too far, and now Mr. Sato is missing and we can't call anyone.
We have to go outside. We have to find Mr. Sato. And we need to get help."
The entire class, a nervous, tired group of nearly thirty, gathered in the lobby.
The daylight made the Grandview Hotel seem less menacing, but the lingering smell and the quiet still felt wrong.
They pushed open the heavy front doors and stepped out onto the hotel's front lawn.
The morning air was cool and fresh, a welcome change from the stale, heavy air inside.
The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in soft, hopeful colors.
They started walking towards the main road, their eyes scanning for any sign of Mr. Sato or another person.
The town seemed quiet, almost too quiet.
But as they reached the edge of the hotel property, they stopped dead.
About ten feet from the hotel building, a perfectly straight, bright white line had appeared overnight.
It wasn't painted; it looked like a thin, glowing chalk line, circling the entire hotel property.
It ran through the grass, across the gravel driveway, and disappeared into the ancient trees on either side, making a complete, unbroken circle.
It glowed faintly, even in the growing daylight, and was impossible to miss.
"What in the world is that?" Yui whispered, her eyes wide with bewilderment.
"It wasn't here yesterday," Akari said, frowning.
She knelt down, reaching out a hesitant finger towards the glowing line, but pulled back before touching it, a strange sense of caution washing over her.
"Maybe it's for some kind of event?" Sakura suggested, though it sounded weak even to her own ears.
"Like a concert boundary, or... something?"
Ren, ever the skeptic, scoffed, trying to sound brave.
"Looks like someone's trying to mess with us again. Probably Kenji trying to scare us even more after the Hiroshi thing.
This is just a big, glowing tripwire."
He folded his arms, trying to look unimpressed, but his eyes darted nervously at the glowing line.
Just then, Daiki, a tall, athletic student who was always a bit too confident, jogged up to the group from behind the hotel, looking refreshed and cheerful.
He'd gone for an early morning run, oblivious to the night's horrors.
"Hey, guys! What's up? You all look like you saw a ghost. I just went for a quick run around the grounds. This place is pretty big."
He saw the white line and raised an eyebrow, a casual smile on his face.
"Oh, what's this? A new boundary for the 'Midnight Game'?
Did they set up a finish line for Hiroshi's grand escape?"
"Daiki, don't!" Kaito called out, a sudden feeling of dread washing over him.
He didn't know why, but something about that line felt wrong.
But Daiki, still smiling, just waved them off.
"Relax, guys. It's just a line."
He stepped over the glowing white line, casually, as if it were nothing.
He took one step, then two, then three.
Then he stopped.
His body went rigid.
His head snapped back, his mouth opening wide.
And a scream, raw and agonizing, tore from his throat.
It wasn't a human scream; it was a sound of pure, unimaginable torment, filled with a primal terror that echoed through the quiet morning.
It was so loud, so piercing, that it seemed to shake the very ground beneath their feet.
Inside the hotel, other students who had been sleeping or just waking up heard it.
They jolted upright in their beds, their eyes wide with fear.
They scrambled out of their rooms, rushing into the hallways, then pouring down the stairs and out into the lobby, drawn by the horrific sound.
"What's happening?!" Emi cried out, her face pale as she burst onto the lawn, seeing Daiki screaming, frozen just beyond the white line.
"Why is he screaming?"
"I don't know!" Kaito yelled back, his voice hoarse with terror.
"He just... he crossed the line and started screaming!"
Emi, a kind and quick-thinking girl, didn't hesitate.
"Daiki! Stop! What's wrong?!"
She ran towards him, crossing the glowing white line without a second thought, desperate to help her friend.
As Emi took her first step over the line, her face contorted.
Her scream joined Daiki's, a high-pitched wail of pure agony.
She took another step, then another, then suddenly stopped.
Her body went stiff, then slowly, she crouched down.
Her hands went to her head, and with a sickening thump, she began to hit her forehead against the gravel path, over and over, with a terrifying, rhythmic thudding.
Her eyes were wide, but empty, showing no emotion, just a blank stare as she continued to hit her head.
The other students watched in frozen horror.
This was no prank.
This was real.
Then, Kenji, the quiet, smart one, who had just come out of the hotel, saw what was happening.
His eyes widened in disbelief and terror.
He took a hesitant step forward, trying to understand, trying to help.
He crossed the white line.
As he did, his body also went rigid.
His eyes went wide and blank.
He didn't scream like Daiki, or hit his head like Emi.
Instead, he stumbled towards a nearby ancient oak tree.
With a low, guttural moan, he began to hit his head, rhythmically, against the rough bark of the tree, over and over, a dull, sickening thump joining the others.
His face showed no pain, only a terrifying emptiness.
The remaining students stood paralyzed, staring at the horrifying scene.
Three of their classmates, trapped beyond the glowing white line, tormented by an unseen force, driven to self-harm, their screams and thuds echoing in the morning air.
The sweet, decaying floral scent was overpowering now, pressing in on them.
The game was no longer waiting.
It was actively playing.