Chapter 1

  As I tuned my cello, I sat in the dimly lit music room, comforted by the familiar smell of rosin and wood. The tangle of anxiety that had formed in my stomach was the reason my fingers shuddered, not the cold. Hours had passed while I played, and the sound of the cello acted as a personal haven for me from the outside world. Except for the stage, of course; no one was interested in seeing me perform, and no one understood my passion. I was afraid of the stage. I thought keeping my music to myself was the only solution to hiding my playing from others.

  I always push my hair out of my face, focusing on the sheet music in front of me. I promised myself that whenever I picked up the cello, the music filling the air was my only companion. But tonight, as the final notes of my piece echoed against the walls, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was abnormal.

  As I gathered my things, I spotted a small, black, bizarre recorder sitting on the edge of my music stand. I picked it up, confused, and hit play. My cello made a faint sound through the recorder, but then something else was heard. Inhaling. A breath that was continuous and heavy. It wasn’t my own. My heart banging in my chest, and I froze. I was certain that the room had been empty.

  I went back to practice the following evening, trying to force myself to believe that it was all in my head. However, I felt cold as soon as I entered the music room. It seemed as though something was being held back by the heavy air. My fingers trembling, I set up my cello and started to play. Even though the music was flawless and calm, something felt off.

  The bow moved more vehemently than I had planned, and I was breathing more quickly as if an invisible force were pushing me forward.

  When I was done, I saw it again. On the chair beside mine was sheet music that I didn't recognize. The notes were incorrect, twisted, discordant, but my name had been written on the top. Someone had been here.

  As the days went by, my paranoia increased. Strange things continued to happen every night. The floor was covered in odd patterns of rosin powder. There was a slight, peculiar metallic odor in the air. I also could’ve sworn I saw a shadow flicker just beyond the room's edge every time I glanced over my shoulder.

  One night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I set up my phone, hidden in the corner, to record the room. I played, my fingers moving over the strings like second nature. But halfway through the piece, a dark figure appeared in the frame. I didn’t notice it at first, but as the song ended, the figure stepped closer, just barely visible, standing still in the doorway.

  As I rewound the video, my breath caught in my throat. The figure, motionless and expressionless, had been observing me the whole time. The figure's head then slowly cracked toward the camera at the very end, after I had finished and was packing up, displaying an enormous, absurd smile that was so wide it looked like the corners of its cheeks were going to rip.

  I closed my phone with shaking hands. I found it hard to believe. Night after night, someone had been in the room with me. But how? And why?

  The next few days were a blur of sleepless nights and frayed nerves. I couldn’t focus on anything except the growing sense that I was being hunted. Strange, twisted versions of the music I played showed up on my bed, handwritten in messy ink, as if someone had been watching my every move. And then, one night, as I opened my cello case, a note was left on the strings.

  “Play for me again, or I’ll play with you instead.”

  My breath hitched. My mind raced. Who could it be? Was it someone I knew? Was someone stalking me for weeks?

  For the next few nights, I had to stay in my room, terrified to play and unwilling to leave the house. But as the fear ripped at me, the need to play, the obligation to keep playing, took over. The cello was my escape and my passion, but it had become a trap set by someone who knew every move I made.

  On the final night, the fear pushed me to one last decision. I knew I had no choice. If I didn’t play, I might never be able to again. I walked into the music room, my heartbeat echoing in my ears. The cello felt heavier in my hands than ever before.

  As I began to play, the music filled the room, wrapping around me like a dark, comforting blanket. I played with all my intensity, as if this performance would save me, or at least allow me to escape the suffocating grip of fear. The notes rang, almost insistent.

  The door creaked.

  My fingers faltered for a moment, but I forced myself to continue. The melody grew frantic, like a last-ditch effort to hold onto something real. I kept playing, barely able to keep my eyes on the sheet music. The figure was back, I could feel it. It was watching me, waiting.

  The final note hung in the air, trembling.

  Then, nothing. A heavy silence pressed in, almost suffocating. I slowly set the bow down, my hands shaking. The tension felt unbearable. I waited for something, anything to happen; the footsteps. The figure. The whisper.

  But it didn’t come.

  I slowly exhaled, convinced for a brief, fleeting moment that I had made it through. That it was finally over. I packed my cello and was about to carry the case when, suddenly, the room’s door slammed shut with a deafening bang.

  I jumped back, my heart racing in my chest. My breath came in ragged gasps. I glanced at the locked door. The room, once so familiar, now felt like a trap. Was it locked before?

  The faint sound of a cello bow scraping against strings filled the air.

  I spun around, my pulse pounding in my ears.

  The cello was still in its case. But from the dark corner of the room, I heard it: the unmistakable sound of a bow gliding across the strings. A low, distorted, mutant version of the piece I had just played, like someone was mocking me. I spotted an unusual, black figure.

  It tilted its head, slow and deliberate, like it was savoring my fear. Then, with a voice that was barely a whisper, it spoke:

  “You think you can escape... but you can't.”

  My heart raced. My hands were shaking, but no matter how hard I tried to stop, no matter how much I wanted my body to freeze, my fears were uncontrollably controlling my actions. I couldn’t move due to all the things I was witnessing.

  “You’ve been playing for me all along,” the figure whispered, its voice like a cold wind wrapping around me. “And now... it will end.”

  I wanted to scream, yet I couldn’t escape. The figure moved slowly towards me, and its grin grew wider and wider. A scream arose from the room, then the room became as black as the night sky. Silence came afterwards. No one heard from me again, just a sign of an unusual metallic smell filled the air every day at the same time that the incident occurred. The sound of the distorted song, the grim sonata, is still hidden behind this closed door, where no one can ever enter, and if they do, it may be the last time they see life.

  Chapter 2

  I gasped loudly. But wait, I was on my bed... This whole time, it has been a dream, but how? I was relieved, but also befuddled.

  I decided to go to the music room, where everything had occurred. I walked, heart pounding, and shaking hands. But as I approached, I heard instruments: cellos, violins, pianos. Then a person yelled out, “Well done!” while clapping. I was free, and I was stuck in an endless loop of trying to escape death, but in my dream. This means that I have won, and that I’ll never hear of that dark figure that made my soul feel unpleasant and trapped with its hideous smile that stared at me. Then, it hit me:

  I remember recording myself when playing and seeing the smiling figure. I was running back to my room when I accidentally bumped into a girl and fell on the floor. ”Hey, are you okay?” she said, reaching her hand out. “I’m Lyla. “

  Yeah, I’m good, thanks. I'm Jessie. So, are you new here?” I asked

  “Yeah! I moved here because I wanted more experience with playing piano. Do you play any instrument?”

  “I actually do. I play the cello.”

  “Wanna go practice?”

  I was fighting the urge to check my phone to know what’s real, but I guess nothing would happen if I just checked it later, so I accepted.

  “Do you know how to play ‘Shostakovich Cello Sonata’?”

  I paused, afraid and uneasy; this was the exact piece I had played, the discordant sheet music I had found, and what I had heard at the corner of the room during what I think was my dream...

  “Jessie, are you okay?”

  “What? Y-yeah, I’m fine. Sure, I guess we can play this piece.”

  The melody started. It was actually going really well until I started reenvisioning the smiling person that would haunt me. Unintentionally, I started playing in a slower, darker, eerier scale. Then, a little thud was heard.

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  “What was that?” Lyla said.

  “I d-“ the sound of the bell ringing erupted.

  “I’m sure it was nothing! Well, do you want to go to class together?”

  I accepted, but I couldn’t sense whether what happened was normal. I tried to force myself it was just exhaustion and paranoia, which kind of helped in the short term. We had a neuroscience class. Our teacher is named Dr. Robert.

  “Hello, students! How are we on this fine afternoon?”

  “Good,” Everyone said.

  “Why don’t we introduce the new students?” He started with a girl named Natalie.

  “H-hello. My n-name is Natalie, and I like to play the cello. It’s my passion”.

  “Ew! I bet she can’t even play one piece, just look at her!” Someone said aloud.

  Laughter came after.

  “Now, now, class. Let’s not judge others.” Said Dr. Robert

  The other students introduced themselves, including Lyla. I decided to go to Natalie during break time to check up on her. I overheard her in the music room, playing the Shostakovich Cello Sonata, but not the original; with sheer coincidence, she was playing it in the same exact scale where the creepy figure played it in my dream, or what I think is a dream. The lights in the hallway went out, but only a slight shine of light remained from the outside world. Then I heard something unbelievable...

  “khhhhhhhhh…”

  The sound of a croaking throat. One second before the lights came back on, I could’ve sworn I saw something down on four legs, not on the flooring, but on the roof. My breath caught in my throat. Were my eyes deceiving me? No... no it can’t. Natalie stopped playing as soon as the lights came back on. Was it the piece that was tormented? Or was it just another coincidence? Questions bombarded me. I decided to build confidence and enter the music room. There I found a smashed cello, where, under it, there was crumbled rosin that formed some text that wasn’t clear. What was it saying?

  “Hey. A-are you okay?” I asked her. She looked petrified.

  “I don’t know why it's always when I play this specific piece on this scale that I hear creepy and unreal sounds. Is it cursed?”

  I sighed in relief, but in sorrow as well, to see how concerned she was. So that means all I saw was real, but I had to know whether the things she was seeing were the things I saw or something different.

  “Come with me. I have to show you something.” I dragged her towards my room.

  I grabbed my phone, searching for the video I recorded, and it was there...

  “T-this is what I saw in my dream.”

  Her face stayed straight, as if she had seen this before. She knows more than I do, but is that a good thing or a bad thing?

  “I saw this figure, but I never knew who it was. However, I did capture an image of something else...”

  She showed me the picture, and it looked extremely familiar. Then, it struck me.

  That creature was the same exact thing I saw when the lights went out, but its features weren’t very visible.

  “I’m scared there may be an army of them.” She told me.

  I tried to comfort her, telling her that there was no such thing, though I doubted my response. We talked more about the signs that we have seen, and most of the things weren’t common, except for the rosin patterns and metallic smell that spreads through the air as fast as light.

  “Do you think we are targeted?” Natalie asked.

  “But we aren’t different than other cellists, so why would we be?”

  “By the way, there were other signs I wanted to tell you about.”

  “Sure, what are they?”

  “I did receive random papers written on them, ordering me to be more cautious of my surroundings, which I didn’t understand at first what it meant by that. Later, I began to discover more things, more than you know... Jessie, there are more of them, not by two, but by multiple...”

  My heart dropped after I heard that sentence, and it was ringing in my ear. I was starting to wonder if these terrifying entities only come out when we play that certain piece. I can’t contain the feeling that we are being hunted down by some weird creatures that aren’t possibly human.

  “There is also something I haven’t told you...” Lyla said in a faint voice.

  “That smiling creature, i-it isn’t what we think. It’s a person, a human being...”

  Chapter 3

  “A h-human?” I said. “But how? That smile looked too horrifying to be human!”

  I would’ve never thought of that, but wait... how DID she know it was human? I asked her instantly.

  “When I was playing the same piece on the same scale but faster, the lights flickered with the beat of the piece, and the figure appeared right behind me. I felt it breathing down my neck, a-and it told me, ‘I am not what you think I am...’, then it laughed maniacally, smiled wider than I have ever seen before, and the lights completely dimmed. I saw broken rosin on the floor forming the words, ‘I am a h...’. I grabbed my cello and shattered it over the rosin.”

  What I saw all made sense then: the broken rosin on the floor in the room she was in, but that other creature, I think it was also targeting her. I can’t tell her that; she’s already going through so much.

  “Natalie, I think we should get some rest for tomorrow, alright?”

  Then each of us went to our rooms. This night was really interesting yet terrifying, but it isn’t over; more and more will keep coming, coming either to make us lose our sanity or to perhaps murder us. Whatever it is, we must figure out how to prevent anything bad from happening.

  I lay on the bed, unable to process everything that I had witnessed today, to think that I was being haunted by two, or what I thought were only two entities. What has brought me to this mess? My only source of joy, which I used to escape the outside world, has now trapped me in hell. But I needed to think about what is coming next, not what has happened. Tomorrow will be an important day to discover more. Even though it is scary, it is best to find a solution now than to experience this every day and possibly rise to the sky.

  It was the next morning. I was searching for Natalie when I suddenly stumbled upon Lyla.

  “Jessie! Where have you been, girl? I was searching for you all night yesterday.”

  “I was staying in Natalie’s room. By the way, have you seen where she is?” I was trying to dodge her because no one could know anything about what happened.

  “Well, I saw her going to the music room. Also, do you wanna hang out during lunch break?”

  “I may not be able to, but thanks anyway, bye!” I hope Lyla didn’t feel suspicious of my responses. But why would Natalie go to the music room without telling me? I rushed to the room to make sure she hadn’t done anything else. I stopped on the stairs to catch my breath. Then, I heard someone speaking, a voice that was familiar to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on who I thought it was. It definitely wasn’t any of my friends; its voice was too deep to be any of them!

  “You have to get rid of our target, do you hear me?!”

  I couldn’t believe what I heard. Who’s the “target”? Afterwards, the worst possible thing happened: the step on the stairs made a creaking noise. I heard a very deep groan and flew downstairs. I was terrified for my life, but everything became worse after I heard a sudden scream:

  “AAAGH”

  It wasn’t high-pitched, but it was deep, sharp, and very unpleasant. It sounded as if a cello string had snapped inside a throat, damaged and torn, echoing with a twisted rhythm.

  I then felt a presence behind me. My mouth got covered, and it pulled me into a room. The lights started flickering, so I couldn’t see who it was.

  “Shhh!” Said the person, who sounded like Lyla.

  It turned on a flashlight, and I was right, it was Lyla. I was shocked to know that she saved me...

  “I-I appreciate that, Lyla.”

  “Of course! It was nothing. What happened anyway? I was just grabbing a book when all of a sudden I heard you panting and looked horrified.”

  I was debating whether I should tell her the truth or not, but I gave in because I couldn’t contain what I had just experienced.

  “Well, I heard something screaming when I was going to Na... Wait Natalie! I have to go back upstairs, or else something may happen!” I sprinted out of the room.

  “Jessica, wait! It’s not safe out there!”

  I opened the music room, and my worst fear came to life: there was blood on the floor, and the metallic smell was stronger than ever. I fell on my knees and started crying.

  “Boo!!” Natalie yelled and started laughing.

  “N-Natalie!” I ran to her and hugged her tighter than I had hugged anyone before.

  “Then that means you made that screaming sound. It was on point.” I started laughing.

  “What screaming?”

  “D-didn’t you scream?”

  “Um, no?” Natalie said.

  I was on the verge of going insane due to my inability to tell what was real and what wasn’t.

  “What were you doing up here anyway?” I interrogated.

  “I was attempting to scare you, silly! It seems like it worked out perfectly.”

  I was starting to lose trust in Natalie. It just didn’t make sense! She was casually ignoring the fact that something was screaming to the top of its lungs and that the lights started flickering severely as if it were having a seizure. What if she has an alliance with them?

  “Jessie, are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Also, just to notify you, I will be sitting with Lyla during lunchtime, just me and her.”

  “Oh, sure, no worries! I’ll be in the music room practicing if you need me.”

  “You better not do anything, with or against,” I said, slowly lowering my voice.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing. See you then.”

  It was lunchtime, and I spotted Lyla.

  “Hey, Lyla! I changed my mind and decided to hang out with you during lunchtime.”

  “Alrighty! I have so much to talk to you about instruments.”

  During lunch break, we talked and talked all about music and instruments. Lyla is actually a pretty fun and humorous person. When it was time to head to classes, we walked to the Chemistry lab, where we had to perform a series of experiments. Professor Snickerdoodle was really good at teaching, but could sometimes snap at us.

  “Alright, students, settle down! I have a fun ex—”

  The chatter skyrocketed.

  “ORDER! SHUT UP!”

  Lyla elbowed me, trying to hold in a laugh, but she caused me to grin a little too widely, and the professor noticed.

  “HEY! AM I A CLOWN ENTERTAINING YOU OR SOMETHING? YOU BETTER STOP SMILING.”

  “Sorry, professor,” I said. He’s scary, but at the end of the day, he is just teaching us in a fun way.

  Class was finished, then I spotted Mr. Robert, our neuroscience teacher.

  “Dr. Robert! May I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Hello, Jessie. Sure!”

  “Well, I don’t really know if you are familiar with this topic, but can dreams be seen by multiple people in real life? What I mean is, can certain things in dreams be seen in reality?” He looked concerned.

  “Um, well, do you mind giving me an example of what you mean?”

  “I keep seeing a dark figure that keeps smiling in such a creepy and strange way, both in my dream and in real life.”

  “Can u sketch me a picture of how it looks?”

  He gave me a paper and a pencil. As I was sketching it, he started gaining fear, and I’ve never seen any teacher be this alarmed about something.

  “T-this is what I saw. Do you know what it is?”

  “We call it ‘Smile’. It usually appears when it likes a certain thing very much, whether a song or something else; did you perhaps please it with a certain something?”

  “Well, there is a specific piece on the cello. Every time I change the scale of the piece, I see new entities coming up. It also mentioned that it is a human.”

  “Indeed, it is. However, that person has experienced many problems in life to the point where he has completely lost his sanity. Even psychiatrists noticed him ripping his cheeks with his steak knife during lunchtime, which is why they called him ‘Smile’. Unfortunately, he’s the only human from all of them, and no one currently knows how to stop him.”

  I was traumatized by everything I had just heard, but I am happy that I told someone who knows a lot about this. I promised Dr. Robert not to tell ANYONE this, not even Natalie.

  “Thank you, Dr. Robert. I highly appreciate you telling me what you know!”

  “Of course, Jessie! A small piece of advice from me: don’t try playing that piece again. You don’t want to become a target.”

  “Yeah...” I was still unsure who the “target” was.

  There were still 15 minutes remaining from break time, so I decided to hang out with Lyla for these few minutes. I was searching for her when something caught my eye: I saw Natalie with a book on which was written “Target”. I saw a glimpse of what was in it. There, I saw a sketch that looked like some human being...

  It was one of two musicians: me or Lyla. Whoever it is must remain cautious of what might be coming next, else they won’t last for too long. I then spotted Lyla.

  “Hi Jessie! How are you?”

  “I’m doing okay, how about you?”

  “I’m doing even better after I saw you!”

  My heart felt sad after hearing that sentence. If Lyla is the target, then who would be there for me? She saved my own life, and that is something I will never forget.

  “Jessie! Girl, you should really stop zoning out.”

  “S-sorry. By the way, can you do me a slight favor?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Please be careful, okay? Stay aware of your surroundings and most importantly, DO NOT go with anyone you don’t know well, alright?”

  “Yeah, sure, but why? Is there something that happened, or something you perhaps know about, and I don’t?

  “No, no, I just had umm... yeah, a bad dream.”

  “Okay, I don’t mind!”

  I felt better after I took that off my chest, but my trepidation would not settle down. I actually hope the target isn’t me, not Lyla; she doesn’t deserve this...