Night had fallen before they realized it.
The seven members of Thirteen gathered around the pool, the surface still and dark like a mirror that swallowed the stars. It was time for the final ritual before the game began.
Arkha leaned back on his hands, his expression blank with boredom. His eyes wandered to the side—then froze. Someone was standing there, not too far away, half-hidden in the shadows, watching them silently.
"Ck. Lavender again. Making me paranoid," he muttered under his breath. His mind flashed back to that day in the cinema, when he'd seen a stranger sitting beside Setta. Maybe he hadn't been hallucinating after all.
"Khan, don't zone out. You'll get possessed or something," Satya teased, nudging his arm.
"I'm not daydreaming," Arkha replied quickly.
"Then why are you staring at that empty room like that?" Niki asked, frowning.
"Just saw a doll," Arkha said casually.
"What? There's no doll. The ritual one's right here," Jio said, lifting the small object in his hand.
"Relax, I was joking," Arkha grinned.
"Idiot," Satya muttered, rolling his eyes.
They went back to the ritual, but the air around them felt thicker than before, as if the night itself was holding its breath.
When the ritual ended, they scattered to start the game. Arkha was supposed to hide, but he found himself walking behind Setta instead.
"Khan?" Setta turned around, noticing the footsteps.
"Ah, s-sorry. I didn't mean to follow you. I was just thinking… maybe we should hide together?"
"Together? Didn't we agree to go solo? Makes it more fun," Setta said, half-smiling.
"Yeah, but it doesn't feel safe," Arkha muttered.
"You scared?"
"No," Arkha answered too quickly.
"Then what do you mean by not safe?"
"I… don't know."
Setta sighed softly. Maybe he was just nervous. "Relax, Khan. We all have cameras. If anything happens, it'll get recorded, okay?" He patted his shoulder lightly. "I'll hide in that room at the end of the hall. If you're really that freaked out, pick somewhere nearby."
And then he left, his footsteps fading into the dim corridor.
Arkha stood still for a moment, watching him go. "I'm not scared, Set," he whispered to himself. "Just… not of what you think."
He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that clung to his skin. The villa was too quiet, its silence almost alive.
Setta crouched inside an old kitchen cabinet, his phone camera trembling slightly in his hand. "Hi, guys," he whispered, forcing a smile. "So, I'm hiding alone this time. I was gonna team up with Arka, but we decided to split up for the challenge."
His voice wavered. The cabinet smelled of dust and damp wood. Something creaked above him, soft but deliberate. He tried to convince himself it was just the house settling, nothing more.
Then came the faint sound of footsteps. Slow. Measured. Coming closer.
He froze, holding his breath, eyes fixed on the narrow crack between the doors. Shadows moved on the other side, stretching and bending with the rhythm of each step.
"Guys…" he whispered, voice shaking. "I hear something."
But when he looked again, there was nothing—only the darkness staring back. Then, a quiet laugh floated through the air. A child's laugh, soft and echoing.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears. "It's just the sound of the house," he whispered again, trying to believe it.
The laugh faded, but something brushed against the cabinet door from outside. Setta pressed his hand over his mouth, afraid to make a sound. The house seemed to breathe with him, matching him fear beat for beat.
Across the villa, Hesa moved cautiously through the dimly lit hallways. The only light came from the pale moon filtering through the cracked windows. He wasn't trying to hide—he was searching. The faster he found the doll, the faster this would be over.
Compared to the ghost stories tied to that cursed thing, he was more afraid of what could happen to friends now.
His irritation grew when he thought about his twin, the one who had taken that strange compass clock. If that thing hadn't been touched, maybe they wouldn't be in this mess.
A faint creak echoed from one of the nearby rooms. Hesa froze. Was it the doll—or someone hiding?
He stepped forward carefully, raising his phone to light the way.
"Arkhan?" said someone from nearby.
A shadow shifted, and Hesa's flashlight caught the figure of a boy with lavender hair standing still in the corner.
"Oh, Hesa," he said calmly. "I thought you were Arkhan. He's seen me twice already."
Hesa blinked. "Who are you? And how do you know our names?" There were only seven of them in the villa—or at least, there should have been.
He smiled faintly. "I'm not a stalker, if that's what you're thinking."
Hesa frowned. His voice was gentle, but something about his stillness made him uneasy. His skin looked too pale, his movements too precise.
"Wait… are you the spirit from the doll we used? You kinda look like it. Or maybe you're one of the ghosts haunting this place?"
The boy crossed his arms. "Neither."
His expression suddenly changed—alarm flashing in his eyes. He turned his head sharply toward the hallway, as if hearing something she couldn't.
"Hey—wait!" Hesa called out, but the boy was already gone.
He followed him through the dark corridors, his footsteps echoing in sync with his heartbeat. When he reached the end of the hall, the boy had vanished. From a nearby room came the faint sound of a child humming.
Hesa hesitated at the doorway. Inside, he saw the small ritual doll sitting upright on the floor, its shadow flickering in the weak moonlight. Something about its presence made his chest tighten.
He stepped inside, swallowing his fear. "Alright… time to end this."
Behind him, there was a sudden movement—the cabinet door burst open, and Setta stumbled out, breathless, clutching a small bottle of saltwater.
"Setta!" Hesa gasped.
Setta didn't answer at first. His hands were trembling, but him eyes were fierce. "It's okay," he said quickly, forcing a smile. "It's over, right? We did it."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then the air seemed to ease, the tension melting just enough for them to breathe again.
Hesa exhaled, noticing the small cut on Setta's hand. "You're hurt."
"It's fine," Setta said, looking down. "Just a scratch from… that cabinet. Nothing serious."
"Im late…" Hesa murmured.
Setta shook his head. "If you hadn't shown up, it might've been worse. You weren't late, You were right on time."
Hesa smiled faintly, though her heart still pounded. "Let's find the others," he said. "They need to know it's over."
Setta nodded and took his hand, their steps steady now as they walked through the dim villa together—two figures carrying the weight of what they had seen, yet pretending for a moment that everything was finally safe.
But somewhere in the silence behind them, faint laughter echoed once more.