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Chapter4: Chosen in the Dark
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2026-01-13 22:35:33The moment the candle went out, the entire auditorium was swallowed by darkness, as if someone had pulled away not just the light, but the air itself. For a few moments, it felt as though time had suddenly stopped — no breathing could be heard clearly, no one dared to move. Sitting in the darkness, hundreds of people realized for the first time that fear is most terrifying when it cannot be seen… only felt.
Then, from somewhere in the back rows, a trembling whisper rose, “This… this isn’t a joke, is it?” That single question seemed to give a voice to the panic buried inside the hall. Soft sounds of chairs scraping began to echo in the darkness. Someone wanted to stand, someone wanted to run, someone just wanted to shut their eyes — but the strange thing was that no one’s legs would respond. It was as if the ground itself had seized them. Then an eerie sound tore through the silence. Creeeak… A sound like fingernails slowly dragging across a glass surface. In an instant, everyone’s breath caught. Someone’s throat went dry, someone’s heart began pounding so violently it felt like it would tear out of their chest in the next moment. On the back wall of the auditorium, where only shadows had swayed in the darkness until now, something else began to emerge. Slowly. At first, just a hazy shape. Then its form began to sharpen. Long, disheveled hair. A bowed head. And a body that looked as if it had been assembled from hundreds of shards of glass. Someone cried out through tears, “Is that… is that Arya?” The figure slowly lifted its head. But the face wasn’t clear — only a fractured reflection, like an identity shattered inside a mirror. The eyes were there, but there was no humanity in them. They weren’t looking… they were peering. Then it spoke. No sound came out. Yet the words echoed directly inside everyone’s mind. “The story is not finished…” Some students panicked and covered their ears, as if the voice were coming from outside. Some collapsed onto the floor in fear. A sob escaped someone’s lips; someone else’s mouth moved without a sound — perhaps praying, perhaps begging for forgiveness. Then the same voice came again, this time clearer, colder — “Now it’s the turn of the one… who truly wants to escape.” Before anyone could understand what was happening, the heavy auditorium doors slammed shut on their own. Bang. The sound of the iron lock echoed in the darkness, and at that very moment, a boy sitting in the third row suddenly screamed. “No… I didn’t do anything! I only saw it…!” His voice was breaking, as if with every word, his courage was shattering. Every gaze in the hall fixed on him. Behind the boy, the wall suddenly began to glow like glass. The shimmer spread and spread — until a face emerged within it. That same smile. Cold. Hollow. Exactly the same smile from Arya’s story. In the darkness, someone murmured, “Now I understand… this game isn’t about stories. This game chooses…” And at that very moment, when there should have been silence before the next story began, another scream echoed through the auditorium — a scream that held not just fear… but the realization that no one would leave this place the same way they had entered.
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The empty space where Rahul had been kept pulsing for a long moment.As if even the ground hadn’t yet understood that it had just swallowed someone whole.No one was breathing properly anymore.No one cried.No one screamed.Everyone was waiting.The name forming on the well’s wall wasn’t complete yet.Only the first letter glowed.Then the second.Then the third.With each letter, a sharp ache rose in someone’s chest—as if the name wasn’t being written on the wall,but carved inside them.A girl suddenly clutched her chest.Her eyes widened.“N… no…”Her voice trembled.“This isn’t my name… is it?”Arya said nothing.She only watched.A voice rose from the well—“Stories choose their own path.”Suddenly, the lights in the auditorium began to shut off—one row at a time.First the front.Then the middle.Then the ceiling vanished into darkness.Only the pale white glow of the well remained.Even that light didn’t fall evenly—it sliced faces into fragments,half-seen, half-lost.“We
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The words being written inside their hearts suddenly stopped.As if someone had frozen the pen mid-air.The silence grew so thick that people became afraid of their own heartbeats.With every beat, it felt like— the next word would appear…the next pain would begin.Then a faint voice rose from the well.“Next story…”People flinched.No one stepped forward.A name appeared on the wall of the well.Very clear.Very slow. Rahul.A boy stepped ahead, trembling. His lips were dry, his eyes bloodshot. He shook his head as if refusing, but his feet moved on their own.“I didn’t do anything…” he whispered.Arya looked at him.There was no emotion left in her eyes.“A story isn’t made only by doing something,” she said.“It is also made by doing nothing.”Rahul took a deep breath. His hands were shaking, as if his fingers had lost all strength.“I… I got a call from my friend one night,” he began.“He was very disturbed. Crying again and again. Saying he couldn’t take it anymore.”A thin mis
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The moment the first body fell, a sound echoed.Thump.But it didn’t come from the well.It came from inside everyone.It felt as if someone had dropped a stone inside their hearts.The black flame now stood upright. The air did not stir, yet the flame trembled — as if laughing, yet restraining itself. The voices from the well became clearer, but they weren’t cries or screams.They were stories.Broken, unfinished, overlapping voices —“I didn’t think he would die…”“It was just a joke…”“If only the door hadn’t been shut…”With each voice, the walls of the well gleamed. Faces emerged in the glass, then melted away.People tried to step back.But there was no ground behind them anymore.A girl slipped, clutching the hand of the boy in front of her.He jerked his hand away.His name instantly appeared on the wall.The girl fell. Her scream was cut short — as if someone had sliced it in half.Arya tilted her head slightly.“See?” she said, her voice now tinged with curiosity.“A story a
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The moment the first body fell, a sound came.Thump.But it didn’t rise from the well.It rose from inside everyone.As if someone had dropped a stone straight into the heart.The black flame now stood perfectly still.The air did not move—yet the flame trembled,as if holding back laughter.The sounds from the well were clearer now.Not crying.Not screaming.Stories.Broken. Incomplete. Overlapping voices—“I didn’t think he would die…”“It was just a joke…”“If I hadn’t locked the door…”With every voice, the walls of the well glowed.Faces surfaced in the glass—then melted away.People tried to step back.But there was no ground behind them anymore.A girl slipped.She grabbed the hand of the boy in front of her.He jerked his hand away.Her name appeared on the wall at that exact moment.She fell.Her scream ended halfway—as if someone had sliced the sound in two.Arya tilted her head slightly.“See?”There was a faint curiosity in her voice now.“A story always begins where som
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…yet to be written.As the names appeared, the walls began to emit soft, muffled sounds—like distant sobs. As if behind every name, someone was breathing. Some names were incomplete—half-erased, half-formed—as though someone had tried to write them and stopped at the very last moment. The blue light had deepened further, almost turning violet. In it, everyone’s faces looked sickly, as if they hadn’t seen sunlight in months.The girl in front of whom the microphone had stopped now had empty eyes. Her pupils were dilated. She was telling a story, but there was no emotion in her voice—no fear, no pain. Only facts. Dry, sharp facts.“They told me not to go near the well,” the voice said, “but I went. And I pushed.”Someone screamed, “Stop it!”But no scream came from the microphone—laughter did.Not the girl’s.Arya’s.“No story is stopped here,” the voice echoed. “Here, every truth is told completely.”Glass began to crack beneath the girl’s feet. First softly… then louder. Cracks spread
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The darkness that spread after the candle’s flame died was not merely the absence of light — it was a kind of darkness that seeped into the mind as much as the eyes. Every person inside the auditorium felt as if their breath was being clenched in someone else’s fist. The air had grown thick, sticky, and with every inhale, fear seemed to sink deeper into their chests.A faint bluish glow began to appear, clearer with every passing second. It wasn’t coming from one single source — it was seeping through the floor, the walls, even the ceiling. As if the entire hall was beginning to glow from the inside. And in that eerie light, everyone saw it — the cracks in the glass were no longer limited to the back wall. They were spreading. Under the seats. Near the stage. Around the doors. Everywhere.Creeeak… creeeak…The sound was closer now.Far too close.Someone whispered in a trembling voice,“Is… is the building collapsing?”No one answered.Because everyone understood the truth.This wasn’
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