Page 110 of Symphony for Lies

The window was wide enough for me to get through with ease, and my feet landed on a rickety table, the wood groaning beneath my weight.

For a moment, I didn’t move.

My heartbeat pounded so loudly that I was afraid it echoed through the entire room.

The air was thick with dust, old paper, and something damp… something rotten.

I lifted my phone, casting a shaky beam of light over the cluttered storage room. Stacks of forgotten boxes, broken chairs, and discarded school materials crowded every corner.

I took a small breath, but even that felt deafening in the eerie silence.

There was a noise. Muffled. Faint.

My pulse stopped, and like a whip, it raced frantic and unstoppable, slamming against my ribs.

“Stay calm… and think.”

Step by step, I moved forward.

The gun in my hand felt too heavy, too foreign. My fingers were slick with sweat, making it hard to keep a steady grip.

The door groaned as I twisted the handle and pushed it open.

A hallway stretched out before me—narrow, damp, and suffocating.

Flickering overhead lights cast long, jagged shadows across the concrete walls. Large mold patches bloomed everywhere, and the air was thick, unmoving. The perfect setting for a horror movie.

There were multiple doors to choose from, and it took me a moment to gather a bit of courage before trying each one.

Some cracked open, revealing nothing but dust and rusting shelves. Others were locked.

When I stood in front of the last door, I pressed my ear against the wood.

There was a muffled, pained sound.

I stepped back and glanced down at the floor.

A shiver ran down my spine when I caught sight of a single aster flower, delicate and pale. Like an offering… Like a message.

My fingers trembled as I turned the handle. With a sharp click, the door creaked open.

I raised the gun, my finger hovering over the trigger as I stepped inside.

My eyes darted across the dimly lit room.

A figure was slumped on a chair, wrapped in a white sheet like a grotesque, abandoned doll.

For one horrifying moment, I thought it was a corpse.

The sheet shifted.

No. No. No.

My grip on the gun tightened, and my lungs locked in place even as I forced my legs to move.

I tore the sheet away, letting it fall to the ground, and blinked a thousand times. Closed my eyes and opened them again.

Zane.