Surviving The 13 Forbidden Rules of The Aquarium

“This is not a place to learn... This is a place where you must accept that you know absolutely nothing.”

A crackling voice echoed from an old recording tape in the darkness, startling anyone who heard it. The voice was distorted, as if the equipment belonged to an era when people still used film cameras and cassette tapes.

The sudden noise filled Praewa with a deep unease. She had no idea how the recording had started playing—or even when she had entered this room in the first place. It was as if she had simply fallen asleep and awakened here, with no memory in between.

The room was four by four meters in size, its walls tiled in faded bluish-grey. The ceiling bore patches of water stains, evidence of failed repairs. In the center stood a large aquarium, illuminated on one side, even though every other electrical device in the room had long ceased functioning.

Inside the tank, there were no fish, no plants—nothing at all.

Except water... and a shadow.

A dark, indistinct shape was slowly rising from the depths.

“Have you ever wondered how different humans and fish really are?”

The voice from the speaker posed the question again, though it seemed the speaker wasn’t expecting an answer—only fear from the listener.

“Where... is this place?” the woman murmured, glancing around in confusion.

She stepped closer to the aquarium, slowly reaching out to touch the glass. It felt freezing cold—like the temperature inside a morgue.

No one answered her question.

Only fragments of memory flickered in her mind, as if something had just brought her here.

An invitation?

Yes. A pitch-black card with no name or address, only glimmering silver letters that read:

“WELCOME TO THE FINAL OBSERVATION.”

That was all she could recall. At first, she had no idea what it meant—until an unmarked taxi pulled up in front of her home, the driver claiming to take her to the destination described in the mysterious invitation. She had stepped in, heart pounding. She couldn’t even explain why she trusted the faceless man behind the wheel—but something in her subconscious compelled her to go.

The taxi traveled down nameless roads. When they arrived, she found a building with no visible entrance. As she stepped out in confusion, the taxi pulled away before she could even turn to speak.

As fear welled up within her, the previously blank wall suddenly rumbled and split open, revealing a massive hidden door.

The next thing she knew, she was already seated in this room.

“Observation is violation.”

“To ask is to defy.”

The voice continued, now strangely more vivid, almost alive.

She noticed small bubbles floating slowly upward inside the aquarium, but they never burst or reached the surface. They simply hung there—suspended, as if time had stopped. Yet, everything else in the room remained in motion.

The door creaked open—so softly, it barely made a sound. Then came footsteps, drawing nearer.

A man entered the room.

He wore a grey suit, a pale blue tie. His face expressionless, he never even looked at her, despite her presence in the room. Without a word, he stepped beside the aquarium, staring at the floating shadow and bubbles, just as she was.

“Do you see it?” he asked, not turning his head.

“W-what?” she responded, puzzled.

“Do you see it?” he repeated, motioning with his chin toward the shadow in the tank.

“What... is it?” she asked hesitantly.

“The final shadow of those who doubted,” he said, turning to her. His deadpan stare sent shivers down her spine. “And you... are the next one chosen to see it.”

“W-what do you mean?” she asked, still not understanding. But he gave no further response.

“Why am I here?” she pressed.

Sigh...

He let out a tired breath, as if the question bored him beyond belief.

“Because you dared to ask it.”

She instinctively stepped back. His blank, unreadable eyes made her pulse race.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will… in time.” He pulled something from his jacket pocket.

A sheet of paper.

It was old—crumpled and worn, its ink faded from countless hands.

But the first line was still legible:

“13 Iron Rules of the Forbidden Aquarium.”

Praewa froze, eyes locked on the paper. She wanted to grab it—but her body wouldn’t move. It was as if something unseen had paralyzed her.

The second line began to blur—not because her hand was shaking, but because her vision was. Fear clouded her eyes. She drew a deep breath to steady herself and began reading the list:

Do not touch the glass.

Do not feed the fish.

Do not say the name of any creature aloud.

Do not retrace your steps.

Do not look into an empty tank.

Do not take photos or record video.

Do not ask about the past.

Do not remain alone.

Do not open closed doors.

Do not mention the outside world.

Do not touch the water.

Do not read the writing on the glass.

Do not challenge the rules.

“What... are these rules?” Praewa whispered, her heart racing. Goosebumps rose all over her body.

“They are your survival guide,” he replied.

“Survival guide?”

“But no one has ever survived.”

His words made the room feel deathly cold. Those words—“no one has ever survived”—echoed in her head. If no one had ever survived... then what chance did she have?

He turned his back on her and walked away without a second glance.

“Meet me at the lobby,” he said quietly, still facing away. “When everyone has arrived... and when you decide to break the rules yourself.”

Then he was gone.

Praewa remained alone with the massive aquarium and the eerie silence. She looked up at the glass again.

Her reflection had changed.

It was smiling.

But she wasn’t.

Her eyes widened in horror. She raised her hand to her lips, confirming that she wasn't smiling at all. Yet the reflection continued to grin back—mocking, unnatural.

And then… a sentence began to appear, like silver ink rising from beneath the surface of the water inside the massive tank:

YOU ARE ALREADY ONE OF US.