Corpse Party: Killing Harmony

Healthy Demise

The two stared at another anthropomorphic blue flame above the corpse of a female high-school student. "If you die here, you shall experience the pain you felt at death for all eternity," it whispered before disappearing. Saihara heard an agonised groan as watched a key drop to the ground, clunking as metal hit wood. He didn't want to question the logistics.

Picking up the key, Saihara noticed it had a tag looped around the end. Classroom 3-A. He glanced up at the label above a door beside them to notice it matched the key. Saihara and Akamatsu shared a glance before the two shrugged. It couldn't hurt to try, they hadn't found anything in the school so far, not even Yuka.

Saihara limped to the classroom door and slipped the old key into the lock. Despite the school's age, the locks, windows and sealed doors had a strength rivalling graphene. When the key turned and the lock clicked without resistance, Saihara froze. His heart dropped but nothing further happened. Something felt wrong, he had a horrid feeling in his gut, but the two had no other leads. Shaking away the odd sensation, Saihara pushed the door open and entered.

As soon as the two stepped into the classroom, the atmosphere seemed to become heavier. The hairs on the back of their necks stood tall, a fight-or-flight instinct coursing through their veins. Saihara noticed a single pile of bones in the room's centre. It seemed to be the only thing of note.

The corpse's arm reached out, small hand bones in a clump as blood stained the wood beneath their torso. Saihara noticed lines hastily scratched into the wood with what he could only assume to be fingernails since there was no other tool nearby. "Whatever you do, don't look at the newspaper," he read aloud.

Akamatsu whined. "Now I'm super curious!" Saihara shrugged and stepped away from the body. Reading a newspaper wouldn't kill them. The woman approached and picked up the newspaper beside the corpse as well as a box of matches. She stared at it before tossing it to Saihara. He pocketed the object, knowing it would be safer with someone who didn't lose everything. Hell, there wasn't anything that Akamatsu owned that she hadn't lost at least once in her life. As the woman read the newspaper aloud, Saihara listened intently.

"The four students of Heavenly Host Elementary School who were reported missing and presumed kidnapped have been found. Authorities discovered the children in the elementary school's basement. With them was a male instructor, alive but catatonic, with bloodied sewing scissors still in his hand. Each corpse had its tongue severed and heartbreaking mutilations." She trailed off, the newspaper ripped and cutting off the rest of the article.

Saihara wanted to vomit at the imagery. How could someone, a teacher of all people, do that to innocent children? The door they entered through slammed shut and both humans jumped in fright. Grabbing the key, Saihara limped toward the door only to find that there wasn't a hole to insert it. There wasn't a handle either. It was a decoration...

"S-Saihara..." Akamatsu's voice trembled. He turned to see her holding out the newspaper. The words disappeared, now replaced with one simple sentence in a suspiciously brown substance. 'You will never leave this room'. A blue flame appeared (Saihara suspected this must be the usual spirits' form) and began crying, sobbing like a human who knew they unsuspectingly met the end of their short life.

Akamatsu rushed to the second classroom door, only to realise it was also a decoration now. They had no escape either, they were going to join the corpse... Saihara frowned and stared at the floor. "This is your fault," he muttered.

"How?" Saihara ignored her pained frown and shook his head.

"N-Never mind!"

The classroom lights suddenly flicked on and Saihara gasped. He turned to the door and noticed he could grip the handle again. In a hurry, he flung open the door and stumbled into the hallway with Akamatsu. They fell onto the ground and leaned against the wall, a wooden trim reaching their heads as they panted. Even though they didn't do anything physical, Saihara felt like he ran a marathon.