: Right, Fair Enough
Deep in the school's backyard, during a quiet break, I encountered a peculiar girl. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her skin porcelain white, and her smile radiated like sunlight reflecting off a pristine glass.
I asked, "Um, hello there. Who might you be, milady?"
The girl looked at me, her eyes flashing with a strange light before her smile widened. "Hey there!... What? Who am I? Well, never mind that, you are down bad gorgeous!"
My heart skipped a beat, a massive grin spreading across my face. 'No freaking way?! Did she just call me handsome? For real? Am I dreaming? In my entire high school life, not a single girl has ever called me that!'
"A-ah! Thank you!" I stammered, awkwardly scratching the back of my neck.
The girl stood up, closing the distance between us. "You must be the new transfer student, right?"
I gulped nervously. "Y-yes!"
She let out a soft giggle at my awkwardness.
"Besides being new, did you just recently learn how to speak too? Hahaha! Just kidding... totally kidding..."
I forced a small laugh.
Creeeak...
It sounded awful, like a rusty, broken door hinge creaking open.
The girl laughed again.
"Your laugh is weird... but mine is weirder..."
Suddenly—
Her laugh morphed.
It distorted into a high-pitched, blood-curdling shriek. The unmistakable cackle of a Banshee. And to think, just seconds ago, I was daydreaming about making her my girlfriend.
"WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL, IT'S A FREAKING GHOST?! SCREW THIS!" I screamed, turning on my heels and sprinting away in sheer terror as that beautiful voice turned into a nightmare.
Tick!
Tock!
Tick!
The rhythmic, heavy ticking of a vintage clock echoed through the grand bedroom of Lylylia Borgechaf, a hardcore horror and fantasy novel addict.
Thud!
"DAMN IT! AARGHHH, WHAT AN ABSURD BOOK. THIS PLOT IS LITERALLY TRASH!" Lylylia groaned, slamming the novel onto her king-size bed.
She was the epitome of a crazy rich Asian—the sole heiress of the notorious Borgechaf family. Her room was a display of obscene wealth, featuring gold-plated bookshelves, custom ceilings, and glass cases showcasing limited-edition miniatures worth tens of thousands of dollars.
Yet, she couldn't even get a decent horror book to read.
"What kind of ridiculous plot progression is this, seriously..." Lylylia massaged her throbbing temples, staring at the vintage clock that ticked monotonically.
Living in this massive, lifeless mansion always suffocated her. To her, the hollow silence of the Borgechaf household was far more terrifying than any horror novel she owned.
"Whatever. If fictional worlds can't give me a good horror story..."
Lylylia stood up, a dangerous, ambitious glint in her eyes.
"...then I'll just find a real one at school tomorrow."
....
The next day at Elysian Academy, a flyer with a blood-red Gothic font was pinned crookedly on the main bulletin board:
[ EXTRACURRICULAR NOTICE: HORROR RESEARCH CLUB ]
Are you bored with your mundane life? Do you wish to seek the true essence of absolute terror? Join our Horror Club at the Abandoned Classroom, West Wing.
Requirement: Must have guts. (GHOSTS ARE STRICTLY PROHIBITED FROM APPLYING). See you at 10:00 PM sharp!
Who else would make such a unhinged flyer? Lylylia, of course. She had literally begged the extracurricular supervisor to approve her crazy club. She even managed to dodge the night security guards who patrolled the campus.
Now, Lylylia sat straight at the only remaining desk in the dusty, abandoned classroom, staring at the door with sheer boredom.
10:00 PM.
The school was dead silent, and not a single soul had shown up.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The classroom door slowly groaned as it opened.
Screeech...
Three teenagers walked in, their movements stiff and awkward.
The first was a tall boy with a school uniform that looked strangely drenched at the shoulders. The second was a deathly pale girl who was busy fixing her long, messy hair. And the third was a guy with glasses, clutching an old notebook.
"Excuse me..." the tall boy whispered, his voice echoing unnaturally. "We're here to sign up for the Horror Club... But, can I ask? Why are ghosts banned from applying on the flyer?"
Lylylia scoffed, tapping the desk authoritatively. "Because this is a research club! We are humans who hunt them. If real ghosts join, where's the fun in that? It's not like you guys are actual ghosts, right?"
The three of them exchanged a long, tired glance.
Sigh...
They let out a heavy, synchronized sigh.
"Right. Fair enough..." the tall boy mumbled under his breath.⁷
