RP Last Stop Home

The hallway was still as she peaked her head around the corner, and Seika could feel her body relax. What was that way? The cafeteria, she thought. If this really was their school, then the cafeteria was that way and the opposite direction would take them back to the front entrance. If they could make it there, then they could get out and find someone who could help them. Vapor escaped her lips as she followed Ayami out into the hall. She felt uneasy deep in the pit of her stomach, and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled like she expected someone to reach out and grab her at any moment.

“The sack was…” Seika's words came soft, before she shook her head. She reached down and took hold of Ayami’s hand, her fingers felt numb and jittery so she squeezed tight. “Let’s hurry before she comes back.” With a tug, Seika hurried forward.

Tendrils of fog tenderly brushed against the tall windows of the hallway, leaving trails of water droplets on the glass in their ever shifting motion. The old panels shuttered and creaked as wind pressed itself close, like probing fingers searching for weakness. Classroom doors left half-cracked allowed their darkness to spill out into the hallway and offered only to those passing what the paranoid ear in its search for any whisper might hear. Seika didn’t slow as she lead the pair forward, she walked on the sides of her feet, if only because she once read that it was quieter in some silly spy story. Still, the wood was cold and worn, and her socks thin.

“Here.” Her heart fluttered as they reached the juncture, and her knees felt loose. She fought the part of her brain that told her to sprint for the entrance, but she maintained her composure well enough to slow to a stop and hold her grip on Ayami’s hand. The hallway continued forward, what little light that spilled through the windows offering up only a vague shape. To their right was another staircase, and to their left…

Seika peaked around the corner, and was greeted by the low walls of the shoe lockers. She breathed a shaky sigh of relief as she grinned over her shoulder at Ayami.

“Made it.” She said, bumping her hip against Ayami’s before she turned the corner. She moved briskly down the rows of lockers which loomed as if teetering on their edges in the low light, ready to pounce before they could reach the door. Then, they were there. For a moment Seika felt unsteady on her feet as relief replaced tension. She reached out for the door’s handle, and stopped. Her vision wavered and her voice caught in her throat. Around the handles, a thick chain had been woven. “No, no, no, no.” She croaked.

He, he, he.

Seika turned sharply. On the top of a row of lockers a shape was perched. Formless in the dim light save for the glittering on an edge held in their hand.

“How pretty.”
 
The school seemed to twist into malicious, predatory shapes in the dark - their shadows growing long and grim in what pale light lingered. Ayami was ready to be done with the nightmare and stuck close to her friend and they neared the exit of the labyrinth.

She half expected to awake at the firm squeeze of Seika’s hand, but she remained planted there with her - the two of them made their way slowly for the doors. Despite the urge to scream and run, that same urge that had been gnawing at Ayami since the stairwell, she steadied herself and shook out her fear in her free hand idly.

Seika’s grin shined in the dark and Ayami nearly laughed out of pure disbelief. “Made it.”

“I suppose this is the part where I thank you.” She said with a coy smirk as they neared the exit. Ayami looked back the way they’d come and tapped her teeth together anxiously as Seika went to fiddle with the door. As close as they were to safety, the irrational fear that someone had followed still lingered, setting the hair on her neck at its end.

”No, no, no, no.”

Something heavy dropped into her throat and she twisted around, dreading what she’d find when her eyes found purchase on the door.

Chains?!

A dead end. How could she have been so stupid - no, neither of them could’ve known, but the point still stood that they were trapped. They had no choice but to go back to where they’d first seen -

He, he, he.

Ayami jumped in fright- a scream came out as a muffled squeak as she landed and spun to face the sound. A shadow perched atop the lockers, formless save the light catching the cruel edge it held in what it called a hand.

”How pretty.”

In a moment of pure instinct, Ayami released Seika’s hand and drew her bat in a sweeping arc - still careful to not hit her friend in the dark. With both hands on the grip of her slugger she planted her socked feet in front of her friend, shielding Seika with her batting position.

Her eyes narrowed on the hand of the shadow - a pitcher with a deadly fastball. “Stay back!” Ayami mustered her courage and called out at the dark. She cocked her head just enough to signal Seika. “Move, don’t move?” She said hushed and anxious.
 
“That’s…” Seika took a step back as Ayami drew her bat with a cutting swish of air. Her hip caught the door, the chains rattling like a dry snicker at their helplessness. The figure leaned forward, the lockers creaking as the thin metal quivered. The figure exhaled, white vapor clouding in the still air like a haze. More than just sound, there was a feeling like something greasy and damphad been smeared against her skin.

”So smooth, perfect ribbons of silk.” They leaned forward, their skin was wrong, in some places it sagged while in others it was pulled so tight that Seika was certain she could see the bend of bone, and the glitter of yellowed teeth between the gaps of peeling lips. Greasy black hair clung together in clumps where it burst through spotted skin. Crooked yellowed teeth gleamed in sunken gums as it grinned, undaunted by Ayami’s threat. The thing wore the blazer of the school uniform, torn in long strips stained with uneven dark splotches. The thing toppled over the edge, hitting the ground with a ‘whap of meat. A stained cleaver was gripped tight in a cracked hand.

“Move right!” Seika hissed through her teeth, tapping her friend on the shoulder as she moved. If they could get to the right side then they could use the lockers and the wall as a corridor. Would that make it hard for Ayami to swing? If they could get back to the hallway before it caught up then there would be room. They just needed to—

Metal screamed as a fine edge was scraped against the ground.
 
Ayami could hardly bear to watch the homunculus clamber across the lockers and plop onto the floor, but her eyes stayed fixed just as tight as her grip. It was a ghoulish form, the tattered remains of what had been a school uniform hung off its bones - the last piece of what it could've been before.

“Move right!”

She glanced over her shoulder before swooping to her right, bringing the bat to her left shoulder to keep it from hitting her friend in case that thing got close - a weaker swing but a swing nonetheless. "Seika! Where do we go? There's no-" Ayami let out in a strained gasp as the wretched sound whine of metal pulled along the floor followed them as they fled.

They had no where else to go, all they could do was run and pray they didn't attract their previous pursuer.
 
Her body moved while her mind struggled to form a coherent plan. They needed to get back into the hallway, if they could just do that then — then there had to be a way to escape. If they could just do that much then — thoughts jumbled in her mind, never fully linking to where she needed them to go. But her legs moved, guided on by that metallic scrape as her skirt swished around her legs. Ayami voiced an objection or a concern about there not being a way to go, but that did little to calm the sudden chill in her heart.

Ayami had a bat, would it be better for her to just—

Seika’s feet hit the cold, smooth floor of the hallway. To the right was the way the old woman had gone, so Seika took a sharp left. Too sharp, perhaps. It felt like the floor shifted under her socks, and one of her feet slid out from under her. She attempted to recover, her fingers sliced at the air in an attempt to find purchase, but gravity had its own design and with a gasp the girl went tumbling. Her momentum carried her a few extra feet, and her shoulder stung with the impact and forced the air from her lungs. The cold ground prickled the bare skin of her legs, and Seika struggled to catch her breath.

The thing with the cleaver stepped out of the locker room, unhurried. There was a sound, like leather creaking and gas leaking as it’s shoulders quivered with laughter.
 
Everything was happening so fast, Ayami's mind didn't have the moments to process it all. Run, just run was all the two of them had as they dodged their pursuer. They seemed surrounded, beset by both sides with strange forms Ayami couldn't name, couldn't even recognize. What was this place? What were they? All she wanted to do was curl up and scream but something primal inside her willed her to run, to take Seika and get out of there as fast as she could.

Ayami watched her friend go hard against the linoleum and reached for her but caught nothing but void. Behind them from the locker room, the shape with the cleaver breached into the hallway, a horrid noise came echoed from it and Ayami willed herself not to listen. She shoved the bat back into her bag and threw herself towards her friend, "Seika! Come on, we need to go!" She bent down and took her lifted her with one arm under her knees and the other holding her back. If Seika couldn't steady herself and find her feet, Ayami would carry her. Nothing would make her leave this girl.

Either way, with her friend in tow she ran for the left. The only thing that mattered was Seika was with her, as long as she had her she could make it.
 
Points of black swam in Seika’s vision as she pulled a ragged breath through her lips. Cold air bit into soft skin at the back of her throat, and her vision blurred at the edges where tears gathered. She pressed her hand against the floor as she attempted to push herself up, but her body felt heavy, like something had grabbed hold of her blazer and was pulling her down. Something cold brushed against her cheek, and an involuntary shiver ran down Seika’s back. She felt as if she had been suddenly tossed into a bathtub full of ice.

“Seika! Come on, we need to go!” Ayami called as she closed in fast. Seika tried again to lift herself, and vapor escaped her lips with the exertion. If Ayami kept going she could get away, Seika blinked away the tears that gathered on the edge of her vision, that would be fine. Seika opened her mouth to tell the girl to keep going, but something far more unexpected happened, Ayami reached down and scooped her up. Seika felt something tug at her blazer as Ayami lifted, a rip of cloth, and for a moment she could have sworn she saw a white hand poking out of the floor, then warmth. So warm.

Seika looped a hand around Ayami’s back, her fingers gripping the shoulder strap of her back, another shiver running through her body. “The cub room door at the end of the first year hall has a lock.” she said through chattering teeth as she rested her forehead against Ayami’s shoulder.

The fog outside the windows swirled as hands pressed against the glass, fingers squirming their way through the worms through the dirt.
 
Adrenaline took over and Ayami nearly took flight from the floor as she blew past. The feeling of cold shot up through her leg, but the fear kept her moving even as her mind wandered and wondered what she touched.

Her eyes drifted to the windows as she ran for the end of the first year hall. The sight of hands pressing against glass, threatening to move through and touch her was enough to make her hesitate. "Seika, I don't..." she could hardly understand it, it was all wrong. What were they? This couldn't be a place she had known, no such place would play host to such strange happenings.

With no where else to go she ran for the cub room door, fixing her eyes on the knob as she ran faster - the weight of Seika's body anchoring her in place. She came through the door, and shut it behind her as quick as she could. "Seika! Are you alright?" She did not set her friend down, but rather tried to rouse her head and examine her.
 
Ayami hesitated, just for a moment, and Seika’s eyes widened as she looked past the girl’s shoulder. Fingers reached up from the floor, digits twitching like weeds flowing in the wind. The sprouted hands reached for Ayami’s legs, just barely beyond their reach. The woman with the cleaver continued her slow advance, what little space that was between them bleeding with each step. Seika’s lips parted as she attempted to speak a warning, but all that escaped her was a puff of vapor. Ayami started forward, her arms holding Seika close to the warmth of her chest as she went.

The woman screamed as the hand reached for her, fingers catching the fabric of her skirt. She brought the cleaver down, its edge screaming as it scraped across the top of the floor as it cut through the space the hand occupied. More reached for her, squirming through the windows and clawing through the floor. The two girls burst through the club room door, and Seika caught a glimpse of the woman being dragged down by the grasping hands as the door swung closed.

Vision blurred for a moment as heavy eyelids sagged, offering a comforting blur of dark. For a moment, she felt like she was floating, ice prickled at her ankle like thin needles through skin and something warm brushed against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered back open before unconsciousness took hold, and a cold breath escaped her as she quivered. It was hard to focus, but Ayami’s head was close. Her lips parted, her breath curling away. It took a moment to understand what Ayami had asked, and another to find her own words.

“It’s holding so tight.” she muttered, her head lulling towards the warmth of a shoulder, as a feeling of ice cutting through skin scratched up her leg.
 
A shaky breath escaped her as she backed away from the door and tried to piece together an image of what was happening. These were the silly stories girls told each other around a candle on sleepovers, nothing more than a game. What had she even seen in that hallway? She could remember when her family still lived in the countryside, the stories of crones in the woods and spirits that would play a prank on you as fast as they'd eat you.

Maybe they were safe now, or at least had some time to try and figure out a better plan than to keep running from every spooky thing they ran into. "Seika, you okay?" She asked her friend again. Friend - they'd only really known each other for less than an hour but it already felt as though she could trust this girl with her entire being.

No answer at first. She rustled her gently before she let out an odd phrase. "I don't understand, what is -" Ayami saw the hand holding Seika's leg firm and nearly dropped her in shock. Her friend was growing cold, and could hardly stay awake now. Gently, she sat her down on a chair, ensuring her head wouldn't fall. Slowly she reached for the hand, but withdrew instinctually as it grew cold even from a few inches away. "I'm sorry, Seika. I hope this doesn't hurt you." Her friend was being harmed, and in a moment of courage and instinct she grabbed the hand and tried to pull it from Seika's ankle, biting her lip hard to keep a scream at bay as the cold bit her hands.
 
“Ah,” Seika breathed out as Ayami placed her down onto the chair. She raised her head slowly, as she struggled to keep her eyes open as she looked up at her friend. Her lips parted, there was a question she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t think as Ayami knelt down, focused on something on her leg. There was something there, something that was squeezing so hard. Another short gasp escaped Seika as Ayami took hold of the hand, a sudden flinch running through her body.

The fingers held firm as Ayami tugged, though Seika’s teeth chattered as the palm of the hand was pulled away from the pale skin of her leg. Another strong tug, through the prickling of ice against her own fingers, and the hand slipped free from Seika’s leg. The fingers of the hand groped blindly at the air, desperately trying to latch onto something while a shiver ran through Seika as she pulled in a sudden sharp breath.

The skin around her leg felt raw where the hand had gripped, hot like she had shoved her hand too close to open flame as warmth suddenly returned. Her leg felt sluggish as she pulled it up, hugging her knee to her chest as she pressed her hands to the spot the hand had been holding. She winced against a spike of pain, sharp and quick, but she didn’t let go.


”Throw it away.” Seika croaked, her lips felt numb as she spoke. Could you even throw a ghost? That didn’t matter, they just needed to get it away.
 
Ayami had been fighting reason and logic since the stairway, this nightmarish line of events was yet to cease. The writhing skeletal hand gripped in her fist was just the latest of these horrors. It was icy cold, a terrible chill radiated up her forearm. This only gave cause for Ayami to grip the hand tighter in fear it would fall to the floor and find a throat to strangle.

At weak voice and request of Seika, Ayami spun and threw the hand with her fiercest fastball behind her, hoping to send it through a window or at least let it splatter against a hard wall. The tender rawness of her hand remained even after it was gone.

With the fiend now gone, Ayami dropped her duffel bag on the floor next to Seika and sat on top. "I'm so sorry... are you okay? Can I see your leg?" The baseball player had dealt with scrapes and bruises before, not ghost hands but she doubted anyone beyond the land of anime and manga had much useful knowledge in that field.
 
The hand impacted the wall without much weight behind it, like a sheet of paper flowing with the wind. The hand writhed against the wall, fingers groping blindly at the empty air before it finally stilled. The hand flipped, it’s fingers gripping the wall as it squirmed its way into a crack and vanished.

Seika winced as the hand was pulled from her leg, the cold chased away by a wash of blistering heat. She set her teeth, the heel of her good leg pressing hard against the floor as she pressed her back against the chair. She twisted her uniform skirt with one hand, trying not to focus on the feeling of flames licking at her ankle. She forced herself to breathe, the air hissed between her teeth. She cracked an eye open as Ayami spoke to her, asking to see her leg.

“Really hurts.” Seika hissed, before, with an effort and a wince, she lifted her leg to rest her ankle on Ayami’s bag. Her skin where the hand had gripped her was pale, surrounded by an angry red that outlined where the fingers had been. “I think I just need some rest.” Seika said, with another wince.
 
"I don't think that's a very good idea, we can't stop here." Ayami unzipped her bag and looked for anything that could aid them - the water bottle came out first, then a clean face towel wrapped around a gel ice pack - not iced at all but at least it would be cool. "This might hurt a little more," she squeezed the bottle and let water wash over the mark on her leg, then pressed the cool pad against her leg.

While holding Seika's leg, she looked around the classroom - it felt wrong to not recognize her surroundings, a place that should've been so familiar left her feeling lost. "Maybe rest wouldn't be too bad, at least until we figure out what we can do to get out of here."
 
“Nhm!” Seika flinched as the splash of water sent the feeling of needles washing up her leg. She caught the edge of her chair with her nails as she tensed, doing her best to keep her leg still as Ayami wrapped the bruise with a not quite warm ice pack. She released a breath as the other girl finished, forcing her body to relax. Seika slumped back against her chair, her head rolling back as she stared up at the ceiling. Brown splotches covered the ceiling from years of water damage, and in the low light they took on uneven shapes.

“Maybe we can break a window to get out.” Seika said, closing her brown eyes. Was that lady with the knife still around? Or the janitor. She thought she had seen those hands go after the women who had chased after them, so maybe they wouldn’t follow them to this room? Would the windows here be big enough for them to squeeze out through? She could worry about that later. “Your fingers are really cold.” Seika said, with a small laugh as Ayami held her leg.
 
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