'M-Mark's death,' I choked out.
Shit.
It's hold on my neck was already painfully tight.
The creature didn't react to my words.
'Mark's manner of death!' I repeated hurriedly. 'He was found decapitated in an empty corridor. This aspect of the curse is based on that!'
There was a moment of silence.
Then, the ice-cold grip tightened even more.
I could feel fingers digging into the top of my head, and my throat was so compressed that every breath was starting to hurt.
'What caused me?'
That hadn't been enough for it!?
I strained slightly against the creature's hold.
My legs were still locked in place.
I had no hope of physically getting away from this thing.
And I knew I couldn't afford to let it ask me the question a third time.
I squeezed my eyes shut. My mind was racing.
Think, Neil.
Think!
Earlier that day, Aron and I had discussed the plot in great detail. However, a lot of what we'd determined was based on pure conjecture.
I'd been wrong about the exact manner of the intern teacher's death. I couldn't make that mistake here.
Think!
'What –'
'Clara, the person that June had been writing to, showed up after her death! And despite the deliberate cover-up, she had enough context to know that someone had caused June's death.'
'So…'
Ok. I was entering slight bullshitting territory now…
'So, after determining that it was Mark, and realizing that the Director would never allow his grandson to face justice for his actions, she became enraged. She took matters into her own hands, and ended up committing a brutal murder.'
Because, unlike June's death, a decapitation couldn't be an accident, right?
'This part of the curse mirrors Mark's fear and paranoia. June was dead. He was probably already jumpy after realizing the terrible outcomes his actions had had. Only to find out at the very end that someone was, indeed, hunting him, and wanted to make him pay with his life for what had happened.'
Done speaking, I shut my mouth.
I was waiting for the creature's verdict with bated breath.
There was silence for a few seconds.
Then, with an almost reluctant sigh, the creature loosened its hold on me and disappeared.
And the corridor faded away into shadows.
The next scene featured someone I hadn't seen before.
There was a well-dressed, capable looking woman sitting in the Director's office, a look of disbelief on her face.
'It was just so unexpected,' the Director was telling her, shaking his head sadly. 'And to think this might've been avoided if you'd shown up just a few hours sooner, Miss Clara…'
The woman, Clara, shook her head.
'June would never do that…' she said.
The Director shrugged. 'I cannot claim to have known you sister better than you, of course. All I can say is that I'm sorry for your loss. Had I known you'd be arriving, I would've waited before having her sent to the morgue in the city.'
'No…' Clara quickly wiped away the tears that had started spilling from her eyes. 'No. June wrote to me. She told me she'd been facing some trouble at work.'
She clenched her jaw and looked up at the Director. 'I… I demand an investigation.'
The Director paused, then slowly smiled.
'If you say so, Miss Clara. The Chief of Police in this area happens to be a close friend of mine. I'll just put in a call, hm? Call in a favor. What do you think?'
His smile widened.
The scene changed to the staff quarters.
'Terribly sad business,' the woman from before stood next to Clara, dabbing at her dry eyes with a handkerchief. 'I told that girl she could come to me if something was bothering her! But to think that she -!'
The woman buried her face in her handkerchief and wailed.
Clara was sitting at what had been her sister's desk with a dazed look on her face.
After a moment, she looked up and asked, 'Can you tell me about the bullying business my sister was worried about? Some kid named Eli. And… Mark?'
Immediately, the woman stopped wailing. She put down the handkerchief and sighed.
'There was no such thing at all,' she said. 'June was facing some difficulties, but those had to do with her job! Her internship wasn't going well, and I'm afraid she was worried about not getting good referrals.'
She tilted her head and continued, 'I shouldn't say this, but honestly? I think she was just making up that nonsense to deflect from her disappointing performance.'
'The amount of responsibility that comes with working at such a large, prestigious institute is not something everyone is capable of handling.'
After the woman left, the middle-aged man nearby rolled his chair closer to Clara.
'Don't react. Ms Smith is one of the Director's nieces,' he mumbled from the side of him mouth.
Clara's eyes widened.
'Even if you're not going to collect all of Ms June's personal effects, I'd suggest you spend some time in her room. Just… just to see if you can find –'
There was the clack of heels from somewhere in the background, and the man loudly cleared his throat and rolled his chair back to his own desk.
In the next scene, Clara was standing at the door of her sister's room, sobbing as she spoke.
'I – I know it won't achieve anything, but I just want to feel close to her,' she said. 'Spend some time where she l-lived…'
The scissor-wielding NPC from the lobby was nodding sympathetically.
'Of course, dear,' she said. 'Take as much time as you need.'
As soon as the door shut, and she was alone, Clara straightened up.
With tears still falling from her eyes, she started methodically investigating the room.
After a few minutes, she opened a book and discovered the same letter I'd found, tucked in between its pages.
She scanned through it, then slammed the book shut.
Then, she fell to the floor, drew in her knees, and started sobbing in earnest.
The scene changed again.
It was late evening. Clara was walking towards the parking lot when she heard some commotion in the distance. She followed the noise.
There was a group of guys discussing something frenziedly.
'Holy shit! They just found Eli! He was hanging from the ceiling fan in his room!'
Clara gasped, then hid in the shadows of a nearby copse.
'First that intern teach, now him? That fucker's lost his mind!'
'Hush! You don't want to be the next victim of Mark's killing spree, do ya?'
'Unlike that pansy, I'd actually stand up for myself!'
'Pfft. Dude, that guy could skin you during morning assembly and hang you from the flagpole, and his grandfather would still make it all go away somehow.'
'Exactly. Just shut your piehole and keep your head down.'
'Mm-hmm. Gotta be smart about this stuff.'
Clara was trembling in the dark. A sudden look of crazed rage appeared on her face.
The next scene showed Mark instead of Clara.
He was in the empty extracurriculars building with a couple of his cronies.
'Did you… really not do it?' one of them asked timidly.
Mark pushed him away angrily.
'Shut your fucking mouth!' he yelled, raising a lit cigarette to his lips.
His fingers were trembling slightly.
'Yeah. Don't spread that around,' the other crony hissed at his friend. 'Remember. None of us were involved. None of us!'
Mark glared at them both.
Then, he kicked over a nearby chair and started walking deeper into the building.
'Leave me alone for a bit,' he growled as he left. 'I can't hear myself think with you idiots around.'
He walked around the unlit building, occasionally taking drags from his cigarette.
'Fuck this,' he muttered to himself. 'Seriously, fuck it all…'
Tap-tap. Tap-tap.
Suddenly, he whipped around and yelled down the dark corridor he'd just passed.
'I told you shitheads to leave me alone!'
His voice echoed slightly.
There was no response.
Mark let out a short bark of laughter.
'I'm losing my mind too…'
He resumed his aimless wandering.
Tap-tap. Tap-tap.
Tap-ta-tap-tap.
After a few more minutes, he stopped in the middle of one of the corridors and sighed.
He looked down at the orange glow of the cigarette he was holding.
That tiny light was the only thing clearly visible in the dark.
After a moment, he dropped it to the ground and crushed it with his shoe.
The very next moment, he was tackled from the back.
'What the - ugh!?' he groaned, trying to buck off his assailant.
It was of no use.
Clara had wound a sturdy-looking rope around his neck.
It looked like one of the missing theatre curtain ropes.
She was using the whole of her body weight to pull the ends, brutally choking the teenager.
'Agh!?' Mark gasped, fingers scrabbling at his neck.
In ordinary circumstances, he might've been able to fight her off.
However, he'd been caught entirely by surprise.
Clara swept a foot to the back of his knees, and he dropped to the floor.
'Wh-uh?' he squeezed out in a pained voice.
'Was it that easy?' Clara snarled. 'Killing my sister? Was it that easy for you? Trash!'
With a raw scream, she started pulling the rope even tighter.
'Nn-hh!' Mark tried shaking his head, but the rope was already sinking into the flesh of his neck.
His hands fell limply to his sides. He wasn't able to breathe anymore.
'Piece of shit!' Clara yelled, aiming another hard kick at his back.
Then, she planted her leg there, and started pushing with all her strength. At the same time, she started pulling Mark's neck backwards with the rope.
Suddenly, there was a soft –
Crack!
Mark's head tilted to one side.
Gasping heavily, Clara slowly let go of the rope, and the teenager collapsed to the ground.
His neck had been broken.
Clara looked nothing like the elegant, put-together woman from the first scene.
Her hair was scattered around her face, and her clothing was creased and rumpled.
The most jarring change was the vicious expression she wore.
She glared down at the dead boy.
Then, suddenly, she spit on his corpse.
Pulling out a long, familiar-looking knife, she dropped to her knees by the body.
The blade flashed as she lifted it higher.
'Rot in hell, murderer,' she hissed.
The knife descended, just as the shadows took over again.