"Hmm… Well, I'm already here, right?" You point out. "May as well just get it over with now."
"If you're certain."
"I am." You're not entirely sure you're ready, actually, but still feel this is the most sensible course of action. "So what exactly do I need to do?"
Death stands up and stretches casually, before beginning to explain. "There's a corrupted spirit gestating up in the fourth floor. It's in a sort of limbo between 'my' world and the living world; else I'd take care of it personally. I'm not sure exactly how dangerous it may be; best case scenario is that it's a simple poltergeist, but the worst case… well, I'm sure that as a highschooler, you've probably snuck out to at least one horror movie above your age rating, no? It could be harmless, but since it's taken up in a more public space than usual, it would be bad to give it the chance to do anything."
You shiver, thinking of your classmates. "So that's what I'm dealing with. What am I supposed to do?"
She just shrugs at you, grin carefree but eyes serious. "I have no idea, but I'm sure you can figure something out." She cracks a grin and does an about-face, walking down the row toward the front, hands clasped behind her back. "And if you do get overwhelmed… there's no shame in running. This thing will be able to hurt you in a way merely physical opponents can't. Step carefully."
You nod in understanding, then follow it up with a hasty bow. "Thank you." When you stand back up, the world is back to normal, with no sign of her ever having been present. Time to head upstairs.
The fourth floor of the building was reserved for teacher's offices and club rooms. Being part of the 'going-home club,' you've never actually been up there yourself, aside from running an errand for one of your upperclassmen one time. It's not drastically different from the lower floors anyway; just offers a better view out at the neighborhood.
Once you've tromped up the stairs, it isn't hard to detect your quarry's presence; despite the wide windows on one side letting in the orange cloud-glow from outside, the shadows up here are thick and enveloping. At the far end of the hall, there's a patch of blackness watching you. This isn't like the stranger, whose brand of darkness seems more like a cluster of dark clouds or a shady spot on well-lit day, concealing something real in the sudden contrast; instead this is like the essence of midnight itself has taken form. You stare it down, and you can tell it's doing the same for you. And then it moves.
What do you do?
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