I sighed.
I finally knew the stories behind the three creatures that haunted each of those three survival rules.
Unfortunately, it still wasn't over.
The rushing, rustling darkness parted once again, and I found myself standing in a place I'd never been before.
Before me was a grey asphalt road stretching out into the distance. On either side of it grew a thicket of ancient-looking, gnarled trees.
It was disturbingly quiet.
All the color around me was oddly muted and dull.
The whole scene eventually faded away into a distant, white fog.
Confused, I turned around, then froze.
There, on a stone wall in front of me, was a sturdy board with a name on it.
WHITERIDGE ACADEMY FOR BOYS
And right next to it was the outside of large, black iron gates.
I was outside the boarding school.
…Hadn't the NPCs mentioned that leaving the campus would also result in death?
Simply being outside was breaking another survival rule.
A survival rule I knew nothing about.
I swallowed.
At least I finally knew the name of the damn school?
All at once, I felt a strong force clamp around my wrists and ankles.
Slowly, very slowly, the force started moving.
Turning.
Like it was going to twist off my limbs.
My mind suddenly recalled a video I had seen once, long ago, while scrolling mindlessly on my phone.
It was a low-quality recording of an alligator killing its prey.
Alligators like to clamp their jaws around an appendage, and then spin rapidly to twist and tear the body to pieces.
It was called a death roll.
'What caused me?'
An icy, emotionless voice suddenly whispered in my ear.
It sent shivers down my spine.
Slowly, I was lifted off the ground.
The force had multiplied.
It was like it wanted to shatter every bone in my body.
I sucked in a deep breath.
Think…
Think…
During the duration of the main plot, the only relevant person to have driven up to the school had been Clara.
She'd found out about her sister, retaliated against Mark, and then… left, hadn't she?
There's no way she would've stuck around after killing someone like that!
'What caused me?'
I didn't react. My mind was racing.
Clara had probably left in a hurry.
Had she… gotten into an accident on the way back?
This creature killed by breaking the body. Wasn't that consistent with the state of the victim of a terrible car crash?
Had she been distracted? Had the fog impaired her vision? Or had…
Oh…
'Brake fluid,' I whispered.
The force twisting my limbs paused.
'There was a puddle of old brake fluid in the parking lot!' I exclaimed. 'While Clara was busy extracting her revenge, the Director was also preparing to clean up the mess his grandson had caused.'
'He's a well-connected man with powerful friends. But if Clara drove to the city and started kicking up a fuss about the school covering up her sister's murder at the hands of his grandson, that'd be an additional headache for him.'
'And so, while she was still on campus, he had her car tampered with. He neither knew, nor cared about what she was doing while still there. He simply wanted to tie up the loose ends.'
'One sister killed herself, and the other, distraught at the news, got distracted and ended up dying in a tragic road accident on the way back. What a nice, clean story.'
I sucked in a deep breath, almost in awe of how twisted the plot was.
'What caused –'
'Yes, yes, I was getting to that,' I interrupted, mildly annoyed. 'This part of the curse latched onto the delirium of Clara's final moments. She raced down the foggy, winding roads, already driven half-mad by the loss of her sister, as well as the crime she herself had just committed in a fit of rage.'
'But, her brakes weren't working anymore. By the time she realized that, it was already too late for her. She, too, ended up a victim of this whole affair.'
I was dropped unceremoniously to the ground as the force around my limbs vanished.
The black shadows reappeared and showed me the scene of Clara's car in the parking lot.
It was sometime early in the evening, probably while Clara was still in her sister's quarters.
A burly figure stole across the empty grounds.
I recognized him from the personnel files Aron had stolen.
He was another staff member with the last name 'Smith.'
It made sense.
For something like this, the Director would probably only trust his own people.
The man crept up to the car, then crouched down low by one of the front tires.
Pulling wire cutters out from within his coat, he reached a hand behind the tire and felt around for something.
Then, he got to work.
The scene shifted to show the same spot, but later in the day.
It was already dark when Clara ran up to her car from the direction of the gates.
There were bloodstains on her shirt, and splatters all across her hands and face.
'June…' she sobbed. 'June… I dealt… him…'
She seemed incapable of forming a complete sentence.
Her breath came out in panicked, panting puffs, and her fingers trembled violently as she opened her car door.
There was no one else around.
No alarm. No commotion.
Mark's body hadn't been discovered yet.
Unsteadily, Clara settled herself in the driver's seat. She started her car, its headlights spilling out onto the empty path before her.
Within moments, she raced straight towards the open gates, and out onto the road.
And she hadn't noticed the large puddle of leaked brake fluid where her car had been.
The scene shifted again.
I was in the back seat, watching her speed down a winding mountain road.
The fog was so thick that I could barely even make out the way in front, much less the trees lining the road.
Clara wasn't shaking or mumbling anymore.
She was driving with a blank look on her face.
Her cheeks were stained with tears, but she wasn't crying.
She turned a corner, and her car skidded as she barely avoided crashing into a tree.
That seemed to shake her out of her torpor.
She gasped, and started shifting gears, slowing down a bit.
Suddenly, tears started spilling down her face uncontrollably again.
She exhaled, then drove to one side of the road right before a bend, as though she meant to stop and rest there for a bit.
Of course, her car didn't stop.
'What…?' she gasped, her eyes widening as she realized that the brake pedal had no give.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Her foot stamped down onto it repeatedly, but nothing changed.
The next moment, her car sped past where she had meant to stop.
She could neither stop, nor turn to take the bend in time.
CRASH!
The vehicle broke through the low railing lining the other side of the road.
It had been too foggy to tell earlier, but that side of the road didn't just have trees anymore.
It opened into a deep ravine down the side of the mountain.
There was a piercing scream as the car turned over and fell into the open space.
It was the last sound Clara ever made.