Suddenly, a rhythmic thump-drag, thump-drag echoed from the floor above. It was the janitor. But this wasn't the man who waved to students in the morning. This was a twisted version, his eyes clouded with a milky, murderous haze, a heavy set of keys jingling like a death knell against his belt.
As he moved deeper into the school, the geometry began to fail. Doors led to rooms that shouldn't exist. He found notes tucked into floorboards—tall tales of a girl trapped in a fire, of a music room haunted by a blood-stained score. File: White.Day.A.Labyrinth.Named.School.v1.0.1...
In the woodshop, the air grew frigid. A faint sobbing drifted from the rafters. When he looked up, he didn't see a student—he saw a specter, her face a pale mask of sorrow. The school was a "Labyrinth Named School," a place where the barrier between the living and the dead had dissolved. Suddenly, a rhythmic thump-drag, thump-drag echoed from the
"Just leave the candy and get out," he whispered to himself, his flashlight beam cutting a shaky path through the gloom. This was a twisted version, his eyes clouded