They all found themselves standing in a huge garden. The grass was green, but the roses were dead — dark and brittle like they'd been burned years ago. A cold breeze swept across, chilling their bones. Even their jackets weren't enough to fight off that biting wind.
There was nothing else around them — no path, no gate, no sign of life — except for the enormous black palace towering before them. Its tall, jagged windows reflected the storm clouds above, and the sky seemed to hang heavy with thunder that never came.
The group stared at it in silence for a moment.
Then they walked forward, stepping through the rusted gates.
Inside, the palace wasn't nearly as big as it looked from outside. It was just a vast drawing room with a giant staircase curling toward the upper floor. Torn curtains moved like ghosts in the cold air. Everything was quiet — too quiet — and the sound of their footsteps echoed through the hall.
The silence was almost painful, until someone broke it.
"Hello?" Samy's voice trembled slightly as it bounced off the walls.
Jet looked around nervously. "Anyone here knows a little bit about this story? Because I already got so many questions in my mind."
No one answered. The silence returned, heavier this time.
Tony finally spoke. "My little sister used to read creepy books. She's brave for sure… and if I'm right, she must've read this one too."
Tin frowned, brushing dust off a broken chair. "Okay, but your sister isn't here to help us right now. So what do we do?"
Tony tried to remember something — a line, a warning, anything — but his mind went blank.
They split up to explore.
Jet and Tony stayed downstairs. The place was a mess: shattered glass, half-broken sculptures, and paintings covered with thick layers of dust. The air smelled old, like wood and rot. The sculptures were strange — faces twisted, limbs frozen mid-motion, as if the artist had tried to capture people screaming. Each one seemed to stare at them when they weren't looking.
Samy and Tin went upstairs. The walls were lined with family portraits — all old, cracked, and faded. The people in the pictures wore old-fashioned clothes, their expressions lifeless. The eyes followed them, or at least it felt that way. The deeper they went down the hall, the colder it became. There were doors everywhere — more than fifty of them — each identical, stretching endlessly.
Down below, Kim was exploring the basement. It was darker than any place he'd ever seen. The light from his flashlight flickered as he walked down the narrow steps. The smell hit him first — a mix of rust, dampness, and something else, something old and forgotten.
He turned on the single light hanging from the ceiling. It flickered weakly, showing a room filled with junk — boxes, broken furniture, and more statues. Each statue looked different, more human than the ones upstairs. Their eyes had a strange shine under the weak light, like they were alive.
Kim ran his fingers over one of them — it felt cold, too cold. He stepped back, uneasy.
It felt like the basement was holding its own story — one hidden deep beneath the dust and silence. Something had happened here long ago, something no one had written down.
He felt a faint hum, like a vibration through the floor, and then—
A scream tore through the palace.
It came from upstairs.
Kim froze for a second, then ran. He raced toward the stairs, his heart hammering in his chest, but when he reached the main hall — the door at the top of the staircase slammed shut right in front of him.
He tried the handle — locked.
"Jet! Tony! What's happening?!" he yelled, pounding the door, but there was no answer except the echo of his own voice.
Inside that room, chaos had already broken loose.
Jet was standing frozen, staring at something at the far end of the hall — a massive, dark figure. It stood taller than any human, its skin like melted shadow, its back broad and uneven, as though something was growing from it. Its head almost brushed the ceiling.
And it was holding Tony — by the neck.
Tony's feet dangled above the floor, kicking, his face turning pale as he gasped for air. His hands clawed at the creature's arm, but it didn't even flinch. Its grip tightened.
"Let him go!" Jet shouted, her voice cracking. She grabbed one of the heavy sculptures lying nearby — a marble one of those twisted human figures — and with all her strength, she swung it at the creature.
The statue shattered against the thing's back with a sharp, echoing crack. The creature roared — a deep, guttural sound that shook the walls — and dropped Tony to the ground.
Tony fell, coughing, clutching his throat, gasping for breath.
Jet stumbled backward, her heart pounding. The creature turned its head toward her, its face still hidden by darkness. For a moment, it stood still, watching her. Then it ran — its footsteps thudding like thunder as it disappeared into one of the side corridors.
The silence returned, but it wasn't the same silence as before. This one was alive — breathing with fear.
Jet rushed to Tony. "Hey, you okay?"
Tony coughed again and nodded weakly. "Y–yeah… barely." He touched his neck, still trembling. "What… what was that thing?"
Jet shook her head. "No idea. But I think it knows we're here."
Upstairs, Samy and Tin were still exploring, completely unaware of what had just happened. For some reason, they couldn't hear anything from below — like there was an invisible wall blocking all sound between the floors.
Tin pushed open another door. "All these rooms look the same," she said, frustrated. "Empty beds, dusty mirrors, nothing useful."
Samy frowned, her breath visible in the freezing air. "Wait. Do you hear that?"
Tin paused. The wind outside howled softly, but beneath it was something else — a faint whisper, like someone calling their names.
They looked at each other.
"Let's check the next room," Samy said, trying to sound brave, though her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the door handle.
Back downstairs, Kim finally broke through the door, panting. He looked around the ruined hall — the shattered statue pieces, Tony on the floor, and Jet's wide eyes.
"What happened here?" Kim demanded.
Jet took a deep breath. "We're not alone in this palace."
The cold wind swept through again, carrying with it the faint sound of footsteps — somewhere deep inside the palace.
But this time, they weren't human footsteps.