Interrogation Processes

As I made my way down one side of the hallway, Naima headed in the opposite direction, each of us with the same goal: to find and interrogate more people. While I was lost in my own thoughts, Naima had already returned to the living room, where a man was sitting alone by the fire, the flickering flames casting shadows across his face.
She approached him calmly and sat down next to him. “Hey there, mind answering a few questions for me?” she asked, her tone steady.
The man didn’t look at her directly. Instead, he muttered, “I’m sorry for what I’m here for.” His voice had a strange, detached quality to it.
Before Naima could respond, two other men suddenly appeared behind her, grabbing her from both sides. The man by the fire continued, “I’m bait for females.”
Naima struggled as they tried to pin her down and take off her clothes. One of the men, holding her tightly, sneered, “We all might die tonight, so I’m going to—” But before he could finish his sentence, Naima delivered a sharp kick to his face, knocking him out cold.
Regaining her balance, she quickly twisted the other man’s arm and slammed her fist into his gut. The second guy crumpled to the floor, groaning in pain. Both attackers were now lying helpless on the ground.
Running a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself, Naima glared down at them with cold fury. “Didn’t think you perverts would try something like this in a situation like this,” she said icily. Then, leaning down close to the guy she had punched in the stomach, she added, “Take your friend and get out of here. Try this again, and you’ll be meeting Jesus real soon.”
The man, trembling, quickly dragged his unconscious friend away, not daring to look back. As they disappeared down the hall, Naima turned her attention back to the man still sitting by the fire.
“Group pressure must be tough to deal with. You got forced to do this, right?,” she said, her voice annoyed with what had just happened.
The man shrugged, finally looking at her. “Yeah, I’m honestly surprised you handled that without hurting yourself. I guess you wanted to ask me how I ended up here, right? Well, I got drunk at a party and blacked out. Next thing I know, I wake up here.”
“You seem awfully calm about all this,” Naima remarked, eyeing him with suspicion.
“Honestly, I don’t know why either,” the man replied with a shrug.
Naima stood up, not entirely satisfied with his vague answers. “Well, good luck with the rest of your night,” she said, turning to leave.
As she made her way down the hallway, ready to continue her search, something unexpected happened—a dead body suddenly tumbled out of a closet nearby, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.
A girl standing behind Naima saw the body and let out a blood-curdling scream.

°°°

Jake followed the same path as Naima, moving through the eerie hallways, but instead of stopping in the living room, he ventured further. His footsteps echoed through the desolate mansion as he passed by various rooms, each one more unsettling than the last. It wasn’t long before he noticed a door—slightly ajar—leading to the basement. Something about the half-open door made his heart race. It was an unspoken invitation, and Jake knew that if the door was left open, there were probably people down there.
Without hesitation, he descended the creaky stairs into the basement. The air grew colder, thicker, and the dim lighting made it hard to see clearly. As he reached the bottom, he saw two figures—a guy and a girl—standing near the far end of the basement, locked in a hushed conversation. The atmosphere between them felt tense.
“Hey, you two,” Jake called out, his voice cutting through the silence. “Any thoughts on who the murderer might be?”
The two turned to face him slowly, their eyes gleaming with something unsettling. Their gazes bore into him, as if they were sizing him up, calculating.
“The murderer could be anyone,” the girl finally spoke, her voice calm yet chilling. “And to escape, you’ll have to kill the culprit.”
The guy beside her smirked darkly. “So, we’re going to kill everyone here,” he said, pulling a gun from his coat, “until we find the real culprit.”
Jake’s heart pounded in his chest as the guy leveled the gun at him. In that instant, panic surged through him. Was this it? Was he going to die here?
“Shiba! Are you an idiot?!” the girl hissed, smacking the guy’s arm. “If everyone finds out we have weapons, they’ll attack us!”
The girl’s outburst distracted the guy just long enough for Jake to act. Without thinking, he rushed forward, his adrenaline spiking. He threw a punch, landing it squarely on the guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. In one swift motion, Jake grabbed the gun from his hands, the cold metal now in his grasp.
Breathing heavily, Jake backed up, pointing the gun at both of them. “Who are you people?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.
The two remained silent, exchanging a glance before turning their attention back to Jake. A sinister smile spread across their faces, one that sent a shiver down Jake’s spine.
“I said, answer me!” Jake’s voice was sharper now, frustration rising in his throat. But before he could do anything, a sharp, searing pain shot through his back. His body froze as he looked down, seeing blood starting to stain his shirt.
“What a shame,” a voice said behind him, male and cold. “But it doesn’t seem like you’re the culprit.”
Jake’s legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay conscious. His breath came in ragged gasps, and the world around him began to fade.
“Who... are you?” he whispered, his voice weak and full of pain. But before he could hear an answer, everything went black.

°°°

The first guy who spoke to me—Aoi—lingered a bit longer in the room where Misaki had died. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings as if searching for clues, trying to piece together the puzzle in his mind. Some fragments of truth seemed to be connecting, but he couldn’t quite solve the mystery. He sighed, deciding to stick to his original plan and interrogate the four people he had in mind. His first stop: the bathroom.
As he entered, he found Ango still hunched over, trembling from the trauma of what he had witnessed.
“You’re that dude Mark’s friend, right?” Aoi asked, his tone surprisingly calm. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to cause trouble. I just need to ask you a few questions. My name’s Aoi.”
“Ango,” Ango muttered, barely lifting his head. “Go ahead.”
“Alright, how did you end up here?”
Ango took a deep breath, his voice shaky. “Me, Mark, and Misaki… we thought this place was just another haunted house experience, like the ones the neighbors do. But then… we passed out. Woke up in this nightmare.”
“That’s it? Nothing else you remember?”
“That’s all.”
Aoi nodded, his expression unreadable. “Thanks for your time. Stay safe, alright?”
With that, Aoi left the bathroom, making his way upstairs to the second floor, where he hoped to gather more information. He started checking the bedrooms.

Bedroom 1: Empty.
Bedroom 2: Also empty.
Bedroom 3: One occupant.

As Aoi cautiously opened the door to the third bedroom, he saw a girl sitting alone on the bed. She seemed nervous, her posture stiff, and something about the way she gripped the knife in her hand made Aoi pause. Is she the culprit? he wondered, his mind racing.
Instinctively, Aoi reached into his pocket, his fingers curling around the small pocket knife he always kept with him. He wasn’t one to take chances. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke. “Hey there,” he called out softly.
The girl flinched, her eyes wide with fear as she shot up from the bed, pointing the knife directly at him. “Who are you?!” she demanded, her voice filled with panic.
Aoi kept his distance, his hands slightly raised in a gesture of peace. “Let me ask you something,” he said carefully. “Are you the culprit?”
Her eyes widened even more, and her grip on the knife tightened. “No! Why are you all doubting me?!”
That’s when Aoi noticed the blood smeared across her clothes—too much to be normal. His suspicion deepened. “Are you lying?” he pressed, his tone more forceful.
“Shut up!” she screamed, and without warning, she lunged at him, her knife slicing through the air. Instinctively, Aoi dodged her attack. In a split second, he countered—his own blade sinking into her gut.
Her body trembled as she stumbled back, her eyes glazing over. “I wasn’t the culprit…” she whispered, her voice weak as she collapsed onto the floor, her life fading away.
Aoi stood there, frozen, staring at her lifeless body. His heart pounded in his chest, the reality of what he’d just done sinking in. But then, in the distance, he heard a scream. Someone else had found a body. His head whipped around, but thankfully, no one had witnessed his act. He was covered in blood now, and it felt like the walls were closing in on him. What now?
Quickly, Aoi shut the door, his mind racing. He sat down on the floor, his bloodstained hands trembling. He needed a plan. Fast.

To be continued...