Years ago, I attended a rural boarding school.
The school had a "strange rule" that had been strictly followed ever since its founding.
“On days when the sunset turns an abnormal color, never look outside after 6:00 p.m. If you happen to look, close the curtains immediately and shut your eyes in the corner of the room.”
Just some local superstition, probably.
That was what every student thought. Until that day.
On that day, the sky was dyed an eerily vivid, almost toxic reddish-purple.
My best friend and roomate, Saki, peeked through a gap in the curtains just for fun.
“...Hey, someone's out there.”
Saki's voice was strangely high-pitched and tense.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked out through the gap too.
A man was standing right in the middle of the schoolyard.
He was wearing all white, standing out unnaturally against the reddish-purple twilight.
The moment he looked up at us,
he raised both hands above his head and began flailing them wildly from side to side.
It was at an inhuman speed, so violent you could almost hear the crack of snapping bones.
With every swing, his arms seemed to stretch endlessly.
“Heyyy, heyyy, it's a nice colorrr...”
Even though the window was shut, his voice echoed as if whispering directly into my ear.
A monotone, lifeless voice, like a machine speaking without emotion.
We screamed, snapped the curtains shut, and spent the night trembling until morning.
The next morning, Saki was gone.
There were signs that she had snuck out of the dorm during the night.
A week later.
It happened during class, just as things were finally starting to settle down.
Suddenly, an announcement echoed over the PA system.
“Chime... Bing-bong-bang-bong...”
“A notebook has arrived at the first-floor shoe lockers. Saki, please come pick it up immediately.”
The classroom froze in an instant.
Every single student knew what that "announcement" really meant.
Our school had a rule to broadcast coded messages if an intruder broke in, so as not to alert the intruder.
“A notebook has arrived” meant an intruder was on campus.
And this specific broadcast was the worst possible warning—it meant the thing from the legend was happening.
A dragging sound—shhh, shhh—began approaching from down the hallway.
It sounded like the ends of impossibly long arms scraping along the floor.
“Heyyy, heyyy, it's Saki... open uppp...”
The classroom door slid open with a rattle.
Standing there was Saki.
But it wasn't Saki.
Her face belonged to Saki, but everything below her neck was grotesquely elongated, her arms hanging far past her knees.
The moment she saw me, she began violently flailing both arms just like that man had, and said:
“Heyyy, heyyy, it's a nice colorrr... let's go togetherrr...”
My mind went completely blank, and before I knew it, I was bolting out of the classroom. I still don't know what happened to my teacher or classmates back there. All I remember is that dragging sound—shhh, shhh—chasing me all the way until I rounded the corner of the hallway.
In the end, I never went back to school. I fled straight home, and my parents had my withdrawal papers sent by mail. The police investigated, but they reportedly couldn't find a single trace of Saki or the identity of the "intruder" who attacked the school that day.
Ever since quitting that school, I've shut myself away in my parents' house.
I was supposed to be living a peaceful life now... or so I thought.
It happened just a moment ago.
The living room TV suddenly turned on by itself, showing my old school, and that chime rang out.
“Chime... Bing-bong-bang-bong...”
“An item was left at the front door. [My Name], please check it immediately.”
I glanced over, and through the gap in the supposedly drawn curtains,
abnormally long, reddish-purple fingers are slowly slithering inside.
And right next to my ear...
“Heyyy, heyyy, I found youuu...”
That flat, lifeless voice is speaking.
