"Despite my attempts to communicate with my parents through those rituals," Shimoya continued, her voice trembling, "nothing ever worked. Not even once."
Ryner listened closely, arms crossed, brows furrowed in concern. Shimoya's expression was distant, haunted by memories that refused to fade.
"I thought they were ignoring me. I thought maybe... they hated me for what I said. That's why I gave up on contacting them altogether," she said. Her voice cracked on the last word, and she wiped at her eyes quickly. "But then I stumbled across this… game."
She let out a shaky breath. "It was a board game I found online—some knockoff spirit communication thing. It was advertised with a flashy banner that read: 'Guaranteed Encounter with the Dead.' I was desperate, Ryner. More than anything, I just wanted to say sorry."
Ryner nodded quietly, offering her a space free of judgment.
"I ordered it without thinking. When it arrived, I set it up immediately. The first time I used it, I asked if anyone was there—and to my surprise, the planchette moved. I thought… I thought it was them. My parents. I believed it with all my heart." A faint smile passed her lips, then disappeared. "I felt happy. I felt seen. I thought my prayers had finally been answered."
She shook her head.
"But it wasn't them. It was something else."
A heavy silence followed.
"One night, I woke up to this overwhelming feeling... like someone was watching me. I looked around, but nothing was there. I tried to go back to sleep, but later that night, it got worse. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. My body felt like it was being crushed under a thousand pounds. I opened my eyes and saw it."
Ryner swallowed. Even Rita and Thomas, silent until now, leaned forward to listen.
"It wasn't human. Not even ghost-like. It had a twisted form—elongated limbs, empty black sockets for eyes. Its presence was suffocating. And then… it spoke. Not in any language I understood. It was like chanting—ancient and foul. Then it used its claws—real, hooked claws—and carved something into me."
She began unbuttoning her shirt.
"Wait, wait! What are you doing?!" Ryner turned around, face flushing deep red.
"Don't you dare look!" scolded Rita.
"I'm so glad I'm dead," muttered Thomas with a mischievous grin. "Finally, some perks to this ghost gig—free show!"
"You pervert!" snapped Rita, slapping him hard across the face.
"OW! That actually hurt!"
"It's not like I'm stripping, calm down," said Shimoya, rolling her eyes. "Just look."
Ryner slowly turned and hesitantly glanced at her exposed abdomen. His eyes widened as he read the scarred text carved in jagged lines across her pale skin: Your soul is mine.
"That thing… did this?" Ryner whispered.
Shimoya nodded solemnly. "It didn't stop there. It smashed mirrors, threw objects across rooms, and… it pushed me down the stairs once. I nearly broke my neck."
She looked down, her hands clenched tightly on her skirt. "My aunt tried to help. She called a priest to bless the house, and at first, I thought maybe—just maybe—it was over. But it got worse. The spirit attacked my aunt. It flung her from the balcony like she was a ragdoll."
Ryner's jaw tightened.
"She survived… but she fell into a coma. Broken ribs. Shattered arm.The doctors weren't hopeful. I blamed myself. And it didn't stop even then."
Her voice turned hollow.
"It possessed me."
Rita gasped. "You mean it—?"
"Yes." Shimoya looked away. "One morning, I woke up in my bed, but I felt different. Weak. Like I'd been running for days without rest. I looked at my calendar and realized… I had lost twelve days. An entire stretch of time was just… gone. I had no memory of anything. Nothing at all."
Ryner stared at her, stunned.
"I tried to reach the priest again. Begged him to come back. But he shut me out. Treated me like I was some kind of lunatic. No one believed me. They all thought I was doing it for attention. The adults. The neighbors. Even the other students. They stopped talking to me altogether."
She paused, taking a deep breath before whispering, "So I gave up. I was so tired. I decided I was going to end it."
Ryner's eyes widened.
"I planned to hang myself… in the old school building. That's why I was there that day. But on my way, I saw you. You were talking to someone—someone who wasn't there. At first, I thought you were like the others. Then I watched you more closely. I followed you. I saw you talk with the ghosts. I knew it wasn't an act."
"So… that's why you were stalking me," Ryner said quietly.
Shimoya nodded.
"I just… I didn't know what else to do. I had nowhere else to go. I needed someone to believe me. Someone who wouldn't look at me like I was insane. That's all I wanted."
Tears streamed silently down her face, and she wiped at them with shaking fingers. Her whole body was trembling now.
Ryner saw the exhaustion etched beneath her eyes, the paleness of her skin, the way her hands clutched her sleeves tightly. He understood now. The stalking, the cryptic comments, the sudden outbursts—it wasn't malice. It was desperation.
"Ryner," whispered Rita beside him, her voice soft. "She's suffering. We have to do something."
"I know," he replied, his voice calm but firm.
He turned to Shimoya. "If what you're saying is true… then maybe I can help. But I can't say how right now. We don't want that spirit catching wind of it."
"You… you believe me?" she asked in disbelief.
"I do. And I want to help. But I don't want you going home tonight. You'll be alone there, and that thing might be waiting. Come with me instead. You can stay at my house. I'll explain everything to you once we're safe."
Shimoya stared at him with wide eyes. "You're serious?"
"I am."
"I-I don't need much," she said quietly.
"You don't need to grab anything," Ryner said, standing. "I'll take care of it. Food, clothes—whatever I can. Just stay alive. That's the most important thing."
He turned and stepped out of the classroom, pulling out his phone. As he scrolled through his contacts, his thumb hovered briefly before he selected a name and hit dial.
The line rang once, twice—
"Ryner? What's going on?" came a gruff, skeptical voice.
"Jack. I need your help. I've got a situation—something big. And I think you're the only one who can handle it."