Blood Moon Diner.

Denial

For a few seconds, no one moves. Then everything happens at once. Dami pulls Marcus into a chair. “Sit. Breathe slowly.” His voice is steady, controlled. Marcus nods, still shaken. Lila hovers close, unsure whether to touch him or not. “You scared me,” she says, quieter now. “I’m fine,” Marcus replies, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. Amia runs a hand through her hair, forcing a laugh that doesn’t land. “Okay, that was intense, but it’s probably just stress or something.” “Stress doesn’t do that,” Dami says. Kunle lowers his phone. For once, he isn’t filming. “That looked real.” “It was real,” Lila snaps. “He couldn’t breathe.” “I said I’m fine,” Marcus repeats, sharper this time. The room shifts again, tension threading through every voice. Simy glances at her screen, then back at Marcus. “Maybe it’s like… panic attack or something?” “I don’t get panic attacks,” Marcus says. Fola folds his arms. “People don’t plan those.” Jonah exhales quietly. “You’re all still pretending.” Elara turns to him. “Pretending what?” He looks at her now, finally. “That you can stop this.” A chill slips through the room, subtle but clear. Amia shakes her head. “No. We can stop. It’s literally just paper.” She reaches for the menu, grabs it, and lifts it up. “See? Nothing.” For a moment, it feels true. Just paper. Just ink. Just a game they made. Then the lights flicker again. Stronger this time. The room dips into darkness for a second too long before coming back. Amia freezes, the paper still in her hand. “Okay… that’s not funny anymore,” she says. “Nobody’s laughing,” Dami replies. Elara steps closer. “Put it down.” Amia hesitates, then drops it back onto the table like it suddenly burns. The paper lands flat. Still. Normal. Too normal. Michel speaks, calm as ever. “You felt that.” No one answers, but no one denies it either. “It reacts,” he continues. “To what?” Simy asks, her voice lower now. Michel’s eyes move across the group. “To you.” Silence follows. Heavy and slow. Kunle forces a small smile. “Alright, this is getting into horror movie territory and I don’t like it.” “Then let’s end it,” Lila says quickly. “We’re done. No more game.” “Agreed,” Dami says. He stands, heading for the door. “Everyone out. Fresh air.” He reaches for the handle and pulls. It doesn’t move. He frowns and tries again, harder this time. Nothing. “It’s stuck?” Amia asks. “It shouldn’t be,” Dami replies, pulling again. The handle doesn’t even shake. Like it’s locked from the other side. Or not a door at all. “Move,” Kunle says, stepping in. He tries it himself. Same result. No movement. No sound. Just resistance. Simy laughs nervously. “Okay, that’s actually weird.” “It’s a jam,” Kunle says quickly. “Old doors do that.” “It wasn’t jammed before,” Elara says. No one responds to that. Dami steps back slowly, his expression tightening. “Windows,” he says. Lila moves first, walking quickly to the nearest one. She pushes. It doesn’t open. She tries again, harder. Nothing. “What is this?” she mutters. One by one, they try. Every window. Every exit. All the same. Closed. Sealed. Unmoving. The room feels smaller now. Not physically, but in a way that presses in from all sides. “Okay,” Amia says, her voice less certain now. “Okay, this is… this is a prank, right?” No one answers. Because no one set it up. No one knows how. Jonah leans back slightly, watching them all. “I told you,” he says. Elara turns to him again. “Told us what?” “Once it starts,” he says, “it doesn’t stop.” The words settle deeper than anything else. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just final. Michel looks at the paper again. It hasn’t moved. But it doesn’t feel the same anymore. “We didn’t finish,” he says quietly. Dami looks at him. “We’re not finishing anything.” Michel doesn’t argue. He just watches. Like he’s waiting. Like something else is about to speak. And then it does. A voice. Calm. Clear. Not coming from anyone. Not coming from anywhere. “Next name.” The room freezes. Every breath stops. Every thought halts. The game isn’t over. It never was.