Demise Game

3. paranoia

Shiki was waiting for you when you had gotten home.  The cat usually didn't stay around for too long, but perhaps he could sense the fear that shrouded you.  Animals tended to have an extra sense for that sort of stuff, didn't they?

        As much as your bed beckoned to you, calling your name like a lovely lullaby, you went straight to your desk, booting up your computer.  Your entire body ached, screaming for rest, but your mind was too stressed still.  Sure, Natsume had ordered for a game plan to be thought up tomorrow, but you could start your research now.  After all, everything was accessible online nowadays, wasn't it?  Granted, you weren't a technical genius like Jinsei, but even you could do something.

        At least, you thought you could.

        Yoogling 'Bookmark of Demise' brought up almost nothing.  The aforementioned Ribbit thread that Jinsei had found, and your school website, which had a bulletin board of scary stories that had been posted by a student last year for Halloween.  Clicking the second link, you saw that no other information was really given.  Not anything you didn't already know, anyways.

        You knew that Yoogling 'Kokkuri-san' would prove fruitless, considering it had become a worldwide phenomenon.

        What did you search next?  'My club accidentally summoned a demon and now we're all going to die'?

        . . . Actually, maybe that wasn't a bad idea.

        Opening Ribbit, you logged into your account and started to make a post, being as vague as you could to keep your identity a secret, but detailing the events that happened ten and twenty years ago, asking about any information.  You would have loved to share that you were now in the same predicament, but the demon's words echoed in your head.

        "If the contents of the demand are seen or discovered by an outsider, they will die."

        Did this include talking to others about the situation?  You weren't entirely sure, but didn't want to risk it.  Not now.

        After rereading it, you posted it.  Exhaustion hit you full force, and you finally got up from your chair to yank on your pajamas.  Sometime during your (rather pitiful) attempts of researching, Shiki had finally left through the window, and you promptly shut it, locking it for good measure.

        Once you were in your pajamas, you fell face first into your pillow.

        For once, sleep came easily.

        As usual, you woke up much earlier than you had wanted to.  The sky still dark out, you rolled over onto your back and stared up at the ceiling in exasperation.  Was it too hard to want for more than four or five hours of sleep?

        When you realized you wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, you got yourself out of bed and went to your bathroom, groggily turning the light on and starting to do your morning routine with a splash of cold water to your face in hopes of waking you up more.

        When you stood up straight, getting ready to dry your face off, you dropped the small towel in your hands.

        For a moment, just a moment, you had sworn somebody was standing behind you, looming over your frame.  Spinning around, your eyes searched the darkened hallway, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

        "Mom?"

        You called out, but nobody answered.  Your mother should have been working graveyard tonight, and that's where she most likely was.  It was just you in the house.

        Despite reassuring yourself that you were alone, your heart continued to race, and you hastily dried your face.

        Another look in the mirror — nothing out of the ordinary, although you noticed that your skin seemed even more sallow than usual.  The lack of sleep, proper nutrition, and general self-care combined with the anxiety you were currently facing were not helping your appearance in the slightest.