PART 2 — The Counting
Darkness swallowed the lobby.
The sudden blackout turned every reflective surface into an extension of the unknown.
Suri's breath hitched as she clutched the white-shirt man's wrist.
"Don't move," he whispered.
But the problem was—
Something else was moving.
Soft footsteps glided across the marble.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Counting each step, word by word.
Tap.
"Five."
Suri's heart stopped.
The voice was not human.
It stretched the syllable, thin and broken, like vocal cords scraping against themselves.
Tap.
"Four."
The footsteps were getting closer.
Suri's hands trembled so violently she thought she would drop her bag.
The white-shirt man leaned close to her ear.
"On three, we run."
"No—she'll hear us—"
"She already knows where we are," he whispered back.
He was right.
The woman wasn't trying to hide.
She wanted them to hear.
She wanted them to panic.
Another step.
Tap.
"Three."
The sound echoed around them, almost mocking.
Suri's knees weakened.
She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, "Please… stop…"
The white-shirt man tightened his grip on her wrist.
"Two."
The voice slid through the dark like a blade.
It was close enough that Suri could feel its breath brushing her hair.
Her pulse hammered.
Her chest felt tight.
The man counted silently.
One—
They bolted.
Their footsteps slammed against the floor as they sprinted toward the emergency exit door at the far end of the lobby.
Behind them—
The woman shrieked.
A sound so sharp it sliced through the darkness like metal tearing apart.
The lobby lights flickered once.
Just enough for Suri to see a flash of the woman:
Head snapping upward.
Mouth unnaturally wide.
Eyes black and hollow.
A grotesque expression stretched across her face.
Then darkness swallowed everything again.
But the footsteps were much faster now.
No more tapping.
Now it sounded like something running on all fours.
Suri screamed and pushed through the emergency door.
The white-shirt man pulled it shut behind them.
They stumbled into the emergency stairwell, breathless.
The door slammed.
Silence.
No footsteps.
No breathing.
Nothing.
Suri leaned against the wall, chest heaving.
Her hands were shaking so much she couldn't even keep hold of her bag.
"What… what was that…?" she whispered.
The white-shirt man wiped sweat from his forehead.
"I don't know. But we need to get out. Now."
He pulled out his phone.
No signal.
The stairwell lights flickered.
"Let's get to the parking basement," he said. "My car is close."
They began descending the stairs, trying to avoid making noise.
Every small echo sounded like it didn't belong to them.
Suri eventually whispered, "Thank you for helping me."
He gave her a tired smile.
"No one deserves to go through that alone."
Before she could reply—
The stairwell lights went out.
All of them.
At the same time.
Suri felt the darkness squeeze around them like a living thing.
She reached for the man's hand—
But touched nothing.
"Daniel?" she whispered.
No response.
She reached again, blindly searching.
Her palms scraped concrete.
Still nothing.
"Daniel!" she whispered louder, panic rising.
Only her echo answered.
Then—
A soft whisper floated down the stairwell.
Not beside her.
Not above her.
But inside her left ear.
"One."
Suri screamed and stumbled downward, nearly tripping over her own feet.
Her hand found the stair railing and she gripped it, racing down blindly toward the basement door.
Behind her—
Footsteps approached.
But not Daniel's.
These steps were too slow.
Too heavy.
Too uneven.
She didn't dare look back.
She slammed through the basement door and burst into the dimly lit parking garage.
Rows of silent cars stretched out in every direction.
"Daniel!" she shouted.
Her voice echoed off the concrete pillars.
No answer.
She ran between cars, searching desperately.
Her footsteps echoed—
Then stopped abruptly when she reached row C2.
Because Daniel was there.
Standing.
Facing her.
But his head was lowered.
His arms hung unnaturally straight by his sides.
Exactly like the woman.
Suri froze.
"Daniel…?"
His head twitched.
Then lifted—
Not naturally, but like a puppet being yanked by invisible strings.
His face was pale.
His mouth slightly open.
Eyes unfocused.
Then his lips moved.
Slowly.
Soundlessly at first.
Then—
"Seven."
Suri's blood ran cold.
He wasn't looking at her.
He was counting someone else.
Someone behind her.
She turned—
And the hooded man from the elevator was standing less than a meter away.
Still no face under the hood.
Only darkness.
Black. Endless. Absorbing all light.
Suri backed away, shaking violently.
"W-who are you…?"
The hooded figure tilted his head.
And finally spoke.
His voice was wrong.
Deeper than a human's.
Echoing like multiple layers overlapping.
"You were three."
Suri's breath caught.
"But now," he continued, stepping closer,
"you are the seventh."
His hand reached toward her.
And the lights in the basement exploded into darkness.