The Cursed Mansion

 “Have you heard the rumors?”

A girl with hair the shade of warm chocolate leaned forward, her eyes glittering with intrigue.

“Rumors about what?” Haruki muttered, already weary.

She gasped dramatically. “Don’t tell me you live under a rock! I’m talking about that mansion rumor—the haunted one.”

Haruki groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You know I don’t care for that creepy nonsense.”

“Quit being a wet blanket, Haruki!” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to make his ears ring.

He turned to her with a smirk. “Listen, smart mouth, I am not a wet blanket. I’m the coolest guy you’ve ever met. And before you deny it, remember—you were the one who told me so back in high school.”

Her cheeks puffed with indignation. “Liar!” She stepped forward and unleashed a flurry of harmless punches against his chest. “Meanie!”

“Hey! How am I the mean one here? You started it!” Haruki chuckled, fending her off with exaggerated defensiveness.

Before their playful quarrel could escalate further, the door slid open. A tall, stoic young man entered with a deliberate stride that silenced the room. 

His mere presence seemed to sharpen the air. Seven other students filed in behind him, falling naturally into his gravity.

“Haruki. Hina.” His tone was soft, but each syllable landed with weight. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat the clubroom as your personal playground.”

Hina bowed her head. “Sorry, President Ryota. It won’t happen again.”

Haruki, on the other hand, tried to sneak past him toward the exit. A firm grip clamped onto his shoulder mid-step, halting him as if he’d slammed into a wall. The pressure increased, joints protesting with a faint crack.

Ryota’s glasses glinted as his gaze narrowed. “Just where do you think you’re going, Haruki Mizuno?”

Haruki’s grin turned stiff. He glanced over his shoulder, his expression hovering between cocky defiance and the comical panic of a trapped animal.

 “Uh… the convenience store?”

“Don’t play games with me. I sent you the meeting notice. You know why we gathered here today.”

Haruki wrenched Ryota’s hand off and attempted a desperate dash for freedom. But the president still clutched the back of his shirt, leaving Haruki to sprint in place like a cartoon character.

“Nooooo! I refuse to be in this meeting!”

“Stop being dramatic,” Ryota muttered, unamused.

Eventually, the chaos subsided. The ten of them assembled at the long clubroom table. Ryota Kujiraki sat at the head like a general among his officers, each member fanning out to either side. 

Their arrangement looked ceremonial, but Haruki slouched in his seat, eyes half-lidded, arms buried in his pockets as though determined to radiate disinterest.

The Paranormal Investigators Club. A group of second-year college students devoted to chasing the unexplainable. Some were seekers of truth, others thrill-seekers—but Haruki Mizuno was neither. 

He only joined to watch over his childhood friend Hina Akitsuki, whom he secretly loved, though he’d sooner die than admit it aloud.

Ryota steepled his fingers, voice low and deliberate. “You’ve all heard the latest rumor, haven’t you? The mansion on the outskirts of town. They say everyone who enters never returns.”

A hush fell over the table. Even the most enthusiastic leaned forward, anticipation glinting in their eyes. Everyone nodded—everyone except Haruki, who leaned so far back he nearly toppled his chair.

Ryota continued, “We will investigate the mansion tonight. Midnight.”

The words struck Haruki like an electric shock. He bolted upright, palms slamming the table. “What?! Are you insane?! There’s no way I’m doing that!”

His outburst echoed off the walls. A few members laughed nervously, dismissing his terror as overblown melodrama. Only Hina and Ryota refrained from smiling.

“Dude, relax.” Takumi snorted. “You sound like a horror movie extra.”

“I don’t see how shrieking at us helps,” Akane added coolly, polishing her glasses.

“This is what we do, Haruki,” Mei said, her polite tone somehow making his panic sound childish.

“You don’t get it!” Haruki snapped, his voice raw with urgency. “People have died there. And you want us to waltz in at midnight?! You all understand how messed up that sounds right?!”

Ryota adjusted his glasses again, unflinching. “Unfortunately, Mizuno, you are coming. This is not optional.”

Haruki’s fists trembled against the table. He lowered his voice, but the venom in it was unmistakable. “Then remember my words: you’re all going to die.”

Again, laughter rippled around him, brushing off his warning like the ravings of a coward. Planning resumed. Eventually, the group dispersed, leaving only Haruki and Hina in the quiet aftermath.

He slumped in his chair. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Hina. Don’t—”

She touched his arm gently, smiling to mask her own nerves. “We’ll be fine. Trust me, Haruki.”

But his gut screamed otherwise.

*****

Hours later, under the pale glow of the moon, they stood at the mansion gates. The colossal structure loomed above them, windows like blackened eyes staring down with malice. The air itself felt colder here, thick with a weight that pressed against their lungs.

Even the most fearless shifted uneasily. Haruki’s breath fogged in the unnatural chill.

Ryota reached for the massive iron knob and turned it without hesitation. The hinges groaned like something waking from slumber. Darkness seeped out of the mansion like a living thing.

Yuna flicked on her phone’s flashlight, its narrow beam cutting through the void.

Inside, crimson stains marred the walls and floor, gleaming wetly in the artificial light. Jagged messages were scrawled across the walls in what could only be blood: Run away. Help me. I don’t want to die.

The group froze. For one fleeting moment, terror flickered across their faces. Then curiosity overtook them—they whispered in awe about the antique furniture and the artistry of the old portraits, ignoring the grotesque warnings that bled from the walls.

Haruki alone stood rigid, every nerve in his body screaming. Shadows twisted at the edges of the light. The air reeked faintly of iron. His skin crawled.

“You see?” Kousuke said with a laugh. “Nothing happened. You were just—”

The floor vanished beneath their feet. The wood splintered away into nothingness, and in an instant, ten voices tore through the abyss.

“AaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhHHHHHHH!!!!”

『To be continued…』