The Midnight Game, page 5
FrenchBanana: BTW I’m not explaining who Bonnie and Clyde were. Wikipedia is your friend here.
HotDog45: Lol, beat me to it @FrenchBanana.
YeahBoi_121: That is hideous, isn’t it? To do that to their friend too. How could you?
User3678: Cold-blooded bitches.
FrenchBanana: Yeah. I think they’re in prison now. Here’s a link: www.worldnews.com/slendermanstabbings
16:46
HotDog45: Dude, that is effed-up. So, you think the Midnight Man is the same kind of story? Just a creepypasta?
FrenchBanana: Probably.
User3678: I read it was based on an ancient pagan ritual, though. They used it to punish wrongdoers back in the day.
Donttalktome12: That in itself sounds very Slender Man, no?
FrenchBanana: Yeah, I guess so.
Donttalktome12: It does. But creepypasta literally means copy and paste. That’s what those stories are, after all, just things that have been copied and pasted over and over again, but with little tweaks each time. Like that game, telephone. You whisper in someone’s ear, then they whisper it to another person, and by the end of the game the final message only vaguely sounds like the original.
CreepyTeepee: So, we don’t think it’s real?
FrenchBanana: I don’t.
Donttalktome12: Same.
CreepyTeepee: I dunno…I read that pagan ritual thing too. Like, druid stuff. And get this—after someone had been “dealt with” by the Midnight Man, other people would use the dead person’s blood. They carved their own names into stones using the runic alphabet and painted the blood onto them. Something about the wrongdoer’s blood kept the Midnight Man away, like a protection charm or something.
FrenchBanana: Cool. I didn’t see that one. So some sources say the game has been around for thousands of years?
CreepyTeepee: If not longer.
User3678: But why would anyone WANT to play? If it was a punishment?
HotDog45: Aha! The million-dollar question.
YeahBoi_121: Because one of our best—and worst—traits as human beings is curiosity. We can’t help ourselves.
Donttalktome12: ^What they said.
FrenchBanana: Well, I am curious. I mean, I guess we all are, right? Or we wouldn’t even be on this site.
CreepyTeepee: Right.
16:51
HotDog45: So, what time are we meeting tomorrow?
Sunday, July 3, 12:01 a.m.
MEI
Mei swallowed the scream that wanted to claw its way free from her throat. She knew for a fact she hadn’t blown that candle out.
“Maybe it just burnt down.” Ellie answered the unspoken question. Her voice sounded wobbly, as though her teeth were chattering, and Mei took some comfort in that. She wasn’t the only one who was terrified.
“Maybe,” Mei replied, the lack of confidence clear in her voice. It hadn’t burnt out on its own; she knew it hadn’t. They had hundreds of those tea lights at home. They used them for Mom’s ancestral prayer altar in the hallway. They should last for a few hours, not less than five minutes.
“We don’t need it anymore, do we? All our candles are lit. So, who wants to do the honors?” Hugo asked, nodding to the door. His voice was booming, even though he spoke quietly. “Mei? You probably should. Open the door, finish the ritual, and all that.”
“I guess.” God, could she sound more noncommittal? She was the one who had put herself in charge of this whole escapade. “Sure you have everything?” Everyone mumbled their agreement. Hugo and Reece both patted deep pockets and Callum held up a battered black bookbag. The other girls had bags over their shoulders, Ellie’s a heavy-looking tote and Toni’s a miniature backpack that couldn’t have much of anything in it. “All right, then.” Mei collected her satchel and ducked her head under the strap so it lay securely across her chest like a seat belt. She straightened it out and pushed the bulk of the bag behind her, taking a deep, shaking breath.
She reached one hand forward, carefully balancing her candle in the other. The smooth, round brass handle was cool to the touch, and a tremor ran from her index finger straight up to her shoulders, forcing them to spasm.
“What’s wrong?” Toni hissed. That girl always sounded impatient.
“Nothing.” Mei forced confidence into her voice and twisted the doorknob, ignoring the shooting sensation. “Here we go.”
She wasn’t sure what she expected, but the prefab corridor was not it. Mei stepped in, realizing just how dark it was without the lighting track overhead switched on. A little light filtered through the scratched safety glass of the temporary windows, so between those and the candle, she could just about make out where she was going. It was fairly narrow in there, just wide enough for two kids to squeeze past, or maybe one child and an adult. The same scratchy green carpet covered the floor, and she continued forward, noting a slight decline as the corridor led toward the main building.
“It’s already open. I went around and unlocked everything before,” Callum said, catching up with her. “Good job back there, by the way.”
Mei smiled, but even she knew that it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks.” He was nice. Kind. She should stick with him. She gestured at the next door, this one far older and more impressive than the flimsy door where they’d performed the ritual. “After you. I’ve had enough of going first for a bit.”
“No worries.” Callum grabbed the handle, looking much more at ease than Mei had felt, and pushed the door inward.
Mei followed him past a stairwell and down a short corridor before emerging into an airy, open space. She craned her neck back carefully, not giving her candle a chance to catch a breeze despite the glass encircling it. Above them was an elaborately corniced ceiling, the patterns highlighted by the floor-to-ceiling windows on the upper level. An old stone staircase swept down to meet them in the entrance hall.
“Whoa.”
The rest of the group piled in behind her.
“Dude, this place is fancy,” Reece said in an exaggerated whisper.
“Why are you whispering?” Toni’s voice rasped through the stagnant air.
The school had been closed for only one day, but it already felt too still. Places like this should be full of noise. Of life.
“I dunno,” Reece said, his smile crooked. He looked like one of those guys who didn’t take anything seriously, and Mei was jealous of and frustrated by him all at once. She knew she should loosen up a bit—it was only a stupid game, after all—but she was so used to being serious all the time. Working hard, getting good grades. Being a stickler for the rules was something that was expected of her.
What her parents did not expect her to do was to stuff the bed with pillows (and Mr. Fluff) before climbing out her window and running off to break into an elementary school.
“So, what now?” Mei watched with slight envy as Ellie spoke. She was confident and pretty, and the boys had clearly noticed her too. Hugo in particular was already following her around like a puppy dog. She looked down at her own baggy Pikachu T-shirt and folded an arm across her flat chest.
“We play,” Mei said simply. “We follow the rules and we meet back in the hut at three-thirty-three a.m. No sooner, no later. We have to keep moving, keep our candles lit, and avoid the Midnight Man.”
“And if our candles go out?” Hugo asked. His hand was wrapped around a tall, taupe-colored candle so tightly that his knuckles shone white in the gloom. It looked like he’d liberated it from one of those ridiculously long dining tables you see in movies about rich people.
“That means he’s nearby,” Mei said. She almost expected someone to giggle, or for Toni to at least roll her eyes, but the atmosphere had suddenly turned somber. Funereal, almost. “You have to relight it in ten seconds, or…” She swallowed as Callum drew a finger across his throat. “Yeah—or that. If you can’t, that’s what the salt is for. Make a circle around yourself and stay there until the game is over. No matter what happens.”
“Do we have to hold this the whole time?” Toni nodded to her own candle. It was in a glass jar, and the faint smell of jasmine and fresh linen sheets drifted over from it. “What if I need to go to the bathroom or something?”
“I don’t think so.” Mei chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to be responsible for everybody if this all went belly-up. “It just says it needs to be with you. So, I guess as long as it’s close by, you don’t need to be physically holding it all the time. I’ll be holding mine, though.”
“OK,” Toni said. That was it: no argument, no smart comment.
“OK,” Mei repeated.
The group stared at each other in their pools of candlelight. It was like something out of a bad horror movie. Mei suddenly really missed her own bed—and Mr. Fluff.
“So.” Callum’s faux-cheerful voice broke the silence. “Who wants a tour?”
07/01/2022 16:52
Donttalktome12: 11:30 tomorrow night, then? No point in meeting any earlier.
FrenchBanana: Yeah, that’s fine with me.
YeahBoi_121: Can we circle back to the rules for a sec? I know WHAT we need, but WHY do we need it? What does the salt do?
CreepyTeepee: Salt is a protective element.
User3678: Salt is for protection.
FrenchBanana: Yay for people doing research!
YeahBoi_121: Protection how?
FrenchBanana: Well, salt protects you from spirits in lots of different cultures. Praying and stuff can help too, I think. Any kind of prayer should work; I don’t think it has to be all Bibles and crosses like in every white Western horror movie ever made. But salt seems to be a specific part of the Midnight Game.
HotDog45: So—say my candle goes out and I can’t relight it. Do I just sit on the floor and draw a circle around myself with the salt? Why not just do that at the start? I could just have a nap until it’s all over.
FrenchBanana: No. And also—no.
CreepyTeepee: You can’t fall asleep! It’s in the rules.
HotDog45: Rules, schmules. I live to break the rules.
User3678: Oh God.
YeahBoi_121: @HotDog45 is kind of right, though? Not the sleeping bit, but you could theoretically wait it out in your circle?
FrenchBanana: Yesssss, I guess…
YeahBoi_121: But?
Donttalktome12: But you’re more vulnerable. When you stay in one spot, even with the salt around you, he knows where you are. The Midnight Man really doesn’t play by the rules. He will try to lure you out of your safe space and then you’ve had it.
HotDog45: How does he do that, though?
CreepyTeepee: He plays tricks. He will make you hear things, see things…
User3678: Some say when he tastes your blood, he can also taste your greatest fears. Your biggest secrets.
Donttalktome12: Or it could be the fact that everyone has to write their secrets down and he could, you know, read them…
User3678: OK, yes, it could be that too.
FrenchBanana: That’s why you have to keep it safe! Anyway, no matter how he finds out, he will try every dirty trick in the book to get you to leave that circle. Either that or he’ll just drive you slowly insane.
YeahBoi_121: Like that girl in the article.
FrenchBanana: Yeah. Maybe.
Donttalktome12: You convinced yet @HotDog45? It’s definitely better to keep moving.
HotDog45: So we just walk around for three and a half hours? Won’t that be boring?
FrenchBanana: God, I hope so.
Sunday, July 3, 12:07 a.m.
CALLUM
“Where first?” Toni asked. Callum narrowed his eyes to get a better look at her as she spoke. She acted as though she was unshakable, but she looked so young in the candlelight. They all did, really. Especially Mei.
“Right here.” Callum took long strides to the center of the foyer, one hand cupped, watching his flickering candle with each step. He stopped and rested his free hand on the bottom of a heavy wooden banister. It curved up a twisting set of stairs toward the looming stone ceiling, the polished wood cool on his sweaty palm. A huge wooden crucifix hung over them, thin chains holding its weight on the wall. Callum shuddered. The gory depiction of Christ on the cross had always made him uncomfortable, and this one seemed particularly graphic, especially for a school. “There are only two floors, but everything centers around this staircase. Even if you end up walking in circles, you should always come back to this. We’re right in the middle of the building here. So if you do get lost, just keep going until you hit these stairs. The door to the hut is right down there.” He pointed at the hallway they’d just emerged from, hoping he was keeping this simple. “Come on, let’s go right first.”
Callum took slow, steady steps as he ducked into a long corridor. He glanced over his shoulder, careful to keep the candle still while making sure the rest of the group were actually behind him. He hid a sigh of relief when he saw that they were. They followed him tentatively, every pair of eyes fixed on their own candle flame. This would be slow going; they’d be lucky if they got around once in the time they had. He saw Ellie cup a hand around her flame and smile at Hugo, who immediately copied her. Callum did the same.
“These are the music rooms,” he said, tipping his head to the left. “See how small they are? This building used to be an old law court, and those rooms were cells. There’s a blocked staircase somewhere that the criminals walked up to see the judge in the main hall.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Reece said, sticking his head through the doorway. “Bit of a creepy place to learn the recorder, though.”
“Oh God.” Ellie let out a bark of a laugh that Callum didn’t expect from her. “Recorder flashbacks.” She winced as though she could hear the shrill sound. “Trauma.”
“Right? I used to dread recorder lessons. All that spit.” Toni snorted a laugh. Callum smiled as he carried on down the corridor, gently pushing open a door and finding the doorstop with his foot. He pushed the heavy rubber wedge under the bottom of the door to prop it open. Maybe they could be nice to each other for a couple of hours after all.
“This is one of the classrooms,” he said, walking into the room as the others clustered together at the doorway. It was much nicer than the hut: the displays on the walls were bright and colorful even in their dark surroundings. Thick, blue plastic chairs stood on top of rectangular tables that were grouped together around the room. Callum could almost see the little boys and girls who worked, argued, and played in this room day after day. Guilt gnawed at him, but he pushed it away. It was fine. Mom would never find out. “They’re all pretty similar, but I thought if we wedged the doors open, we would be able to wander in and out. It gives us a lot more space to walk around in.”
“Good idea.” Mei smiled at him, her shoulders a little more relaxed than they had been. “Where are we looking next?”
Callum followed the group out and resumed his place as tour guide. He gestured to the other side of the corridor and Hugo stepped forward, pushing the door open and wedging it as Callum had done with the last one. Good, this was starting to look like teamwork.
“It’s another classroom. Looks a bit bigger, though,” Hugo told them.
“Yeah, the ones at the front of the building are. There are two classrooms on this corridor.”
“What’s in there, then? A closet or something?” Toni pointed down the hall, her chipped black nail almost resting on Callum’s shoulder. They were halfway down the corridor, so he picked up as much speed as he could and walked toward it. He held his candle up to the small brass plaque on the door.
Library.
“A library!” Mei almost squealed the word, and a ripple of nervous laughter flowed from one person to the next as her voice echoed around the empty space. “Oops, sorry.” She winced. “I just really like books.”
“Me too,” Ellie said kindly. “Can we go in with our candles? Or would it be too dangerous?”
“Nah, I’m sure we’ll be OK.” Callum pushed the door open and beckoned them in. “This bit is an extension. They got funding from…well, somewhere, to build it all brand-new. It’s really nice.”
Mei wasted no time in crossing the threshold, and Callum hung back by the door, narrowing his eyes to search for the doorstop. He knew there should be one somewhere around here—he’d kicked them out while helping to lock up often enough. Finally, with a little help from the streetlight outside streaming in through the library windows, he spotted the heavy rubber wedge and nudged it under the door, maintaining the careful balancing act that meant keeping his flame alive.
“I never had a library like this at my elementary school,” Toni whispered as Callum turned around to rejoin the group. Her face had softened a little, and Callum could see a hint of wonder beneath the heavy makeup. “We just had a shelf in the classroom with some ratty old books on it. They were so ancient that the covers had all torn off; no one was interested in them at all.”
Callum looked at the room through fresh eyes. It was a nice space, ringed by walls lined with shelf after shelf of books in all sizes. Bright banners advertised the different sections, and at the very front, there was an alcove that looked out onto the street, complete with a seating area and a floor-to-ceiling picture window, though the view was, unfortunately, partly obscured by the prefab corridor that led back to the hut. A thick rug covered the school-issue carpet and was dotted with beanbags that looked as though they were well used.
