The batteries worked. Of course they did. The universe had perfect timing—cruel, comedic timing.
"Hi! I'm Sally! Nice to meet you!"
The doll's voice spoke again, bright and loud. Like it was getting payback for being stepped on. Sweet revenge on repeat.
I stared at the paper crane. I hadn’t meant to give it a name, but it had apparently taken it that way.
The more pressing issue: how the hell do I cancel making this thing my Servant?
I have no idea.
The sound hit like a jump scare. A sudden, jarring shift, like the drop in a horror movie score right before the gore starts. The ringing in his ears flared like a siren. Maybe it wasn’t technically a demon hunting them, but when the monster chasing you wore nurse’s scrubs, the semantics didn’t matter.
Seojun could hardly believe what he was hearing, but Levi didn’t even blink. Her violent suggestion came without hesitation, cool and matter-of-fact, like she was suggesting something as mundane as tossing out the trash.
Levi grimaced and patted the pocket where she’d tucked her collapsible baton.
“If I had a gun, do you think I’d be sneaking around like this?”
“Oh, Califor—uh, I mean, Levi,” McCullan said, spotting what he clearly thought was his chance. He reached for her hands. “Your delicate hands shouldn’t have to—”
Seojun’s first instinct was to freeze. For a split second, he thought Nurse Samantha had found them. But no, the footsteps had been completely silent. That ruled her out. With those blade-like limbs, she scraped against every surface like nails on glass.
Pandomonium’s gaze snapped to mine. For a moment, the world fell silent—and in his eyes, I saw my own confusion staring back at me.
“...Your system window. Did it look like a busted calculator?”
“Yeah. Glitched to hell. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
It wasn’t just a sneeze. It was a full-body, wet achoo that exploded out of McCullan, spraying droplets in every direction.
The sound lasted less than a second, but for Seojun, it stretched into a slow-motion nightmare. Long enough for him to mentally compose at least a dozen creative ways to kill the man.
The joke fell flat. Dead silence followed.
Seojun risked a glance over his shoulder, his flashlight trembling in his hand. The beam jittered across a row of pale, horrified faces. The others stared past him—eyes wide, mouths hanging open, frozen like statues in the dark.
Brown exhaled slowly through his teeth. Of course that wire wouldn’t have held anything heavier than a scarecrow.
"...Mina!"
A sharp, breathless laugh broke the silence. Then another. And suddenly the whole room was echoing with nervous, half-hysterical cackling.