It started as a joke. A dare, even. Just you and the boys—Bangchan, Han, and Changbin—biking out past the edge of town, chasing after a rumor that sounded too ridiculous to be real. People said something strange had been happening near the abandoned train tracks. Animals disappearing. Static in the radios. Lights flickering at the same time every night.

You didn’t believe it—not really. None of you did. But when you’re a bunch of curious, slightly reckless friends who can’t stand being bored, the line between “fun” and “terrifying” gets blurry fast.

Now, it’s just past midnight, and the four of you are huddled inside the old storage shed behind the train yard. The air smells like rust and rain. Chan’s flashlight flickers every few seconds, his thumb nervously tapping the switch as if that’ll help. Han sits cross-legged on the floor beside you, clutching a walkie-talkie like it’s a lifeline, while Changbin peers through a crack in the wooden wall, eyes scanning the dark tracks outside.

“Okay,” Han whispers, his voice trembling but still trying to sound casual, “so…just to be clear, if something moves out there, we don’t scream, right?”

“You definitely don’t scream,” Changbin mutters, his voice deeper, steadier—though his hands are shaking just the same.

Bangchan exhales through his nose, running a hand through his messy hair. “We shouldn’t have come here. I knew this was a bad idea.”

You lean against the wall beside him, heart pounding, your flashlight beam cutting through the shadows. “You say that every time something gets exciting.”

He glances at you, lips curving into that small, familiar smile. “Exciting is not the same thing as almost dying.”

The wind outside howls, rattling the shed door. For a second, no one moves. No one breathes. Then—a faint hum buzzes through the walkie-talkie in Han’s hand. The static crackles. Then fades into silence.

Bangchan straightens. “Turn that off,” he whispers.

“I didn’t even press anything,” Han murmurs, eyes wide.

The hum comes again. Louder this time. It’s a low, distorted sound, like someone whispering through a broken speaker. Changbin steps back, his expression hardening. “That’s not interference.”

You swallow hard. “Then what is it?”

And that’s when the lights go out.

The darkness is suffocating, complete. You hear the sound of your own breath, fast and shaky. Then—something heavy drags across the gravel outside. One step. Two. Too slow to be human.

Bang Chan instinctively moves in front of you, shielding you with one arm. “Stay behind me.”

Han’s flashlight flickers back to life just in time to catch a glimpse of something in the window. A flash of movement—pale skin, long fingers, eyes that gleam for half a second before vanishing into the night.

No one speaks. Not even Han.