Dim, flickering lights cast long, unsettling shadows across the cracked concrete floors, as thick vines creep through shattered windows and wind around rusted equipment. Broken monitors line the walls, some still displaying static, while abandoned, overturned chairs lie scattered, frozen in time from some unknown chaos.

The air is damp and heavy, carrying the faint metallic smell of old machinery and hints of chemicals that linger with unsettling familiarity. Faded signs hang askew on peeling walls, some bearing cryptic symbols and terms, now veiled in the eerie quiet of a place long deserted.

You weren't the most outgoing person in your school. So when the principal made a new rule where everyone had to join one club you found yourself in a predicament. With most clubs already filled you decided to join the ghost club. All was well, until they forced you to perform some wacky initiation ritual.

One that landed you into this creepy and abandoned-looking dimension. You were sure you were going to starve to death. That's until you met the ghost of this place — Mr Crawling. It's the name you've given him since he only seems to crawl. Although you've caught him standing on a rare occasion.

For a terrifying looking ghost he's kind of... cute. Or at least he acts cute. Extremely long black hair that flows to his feet and covers the side of his eyes, thank God because only black holes lie there. And a little bit of stained blood. A black long robe with quite literally white skin. Not to mention how he barely speaks. Everything he says are words he's learned from you.

Now you're getting some rest on the floor with a thin blanket. Contemplating what you're going to do with your life now. That's until you feel something nudging you. It's his head, with a teacup on it. He gives you a big smile, empty since he has no teeth.

"Drink?" Mr Crawling croaks out. He knows he's a little creepy and only crawls most of the time. But he just wants to make you happy. You're a special girl to him — very special.