“I think we’re done.” Yonghwa yawned after few long hours spent tidying up the music room. The school looked almost new—almost, but not quite. Though it was much cleaner, it lacked the brand new sheen that came with new buildings, not to mention the sloppy students would destroy everything within days again.

            “We left a mess in the hallway.” Shinhye reminded him as she pushed the garbage can against the wall with her foot. The door to the music room was wide open and she was able to see the floor tiles that faded into a darker hue as her eyes trailed down.

            “You go clean first, I’ll be right out.” Yonghwa promised, now giving his attention back to the desk. The news article that had been in the bottom drawer was gone, and all that was left were the rose petals that slowly shriveled up as time passed by. Someone had definitely been in this room. He clearly remembered that when they came back from the hallway incident, the article had still been here but after leaving briefly to get some cleaning supplies, it disappeared. He glanced briefly at his watch; the hour was too late for any janitors to still be here since the school couldn’t afford to pay them over time.

            “I think I’ll wait…” Shinhye mumbled in a pleading voice, almost cowering on her own beside the door frame. He should’ve expected this reaction from her after all this had happened, but she was admirable to an extent for having not run out of the building proclaiming that it was haunted. If she knew about the missing news article she’d probably do just that, so Yonghwa decided not to say anything about it just yet.

           “Okay then, let’s go.” He announced, taking the lead out the door with an expectancy that she would follow; and she did. They didn’t bring a flashlight and the sun had gone down, so they had to rely on their adjusting eyes to guide them down the clear hallway. At the corner, there were white sheets of paper that almost glowed despite the darkness. When Yonghwa moved his arm forward to grab a piece of paper, his arm brushed past Shinhye’s, startling him for just a split second having not known how close she had been to him. He could tell she herself was scared and now shaking subtly beside him as she tried to pitch in. They rolled the recycling bin back towards them and stacked all the sheets of paper in an orderly fashion, satisfied enough with that. It wasn’t until they put they emptied the recycling bin in the proper place that they realized someone odd.

            “Where did that rose—“

            “You were thinking that too?” Shinhye interrupted as they now stood in the hallway where the rose had been. There were no traces of it ever being here. Had they been hallucinating? It was practically impossible for both of them to be.

            “I think someone else is here.” Yonghwa concluded, giving the hall a quick squinty scan but failed to see any movement other than Shinhye’s shaking shoulders. The only thing he could see with any clear definition was Shinhye’s terrified face, her nervous eyes locked on his as she tried so hard to push words past her lips.

            “A g-ghost?” She muttered in absolute fear, as if she were ready to grab onto Yonghwa’s arm and cry, but she knew better to, and he knew that she did. They trailed back to their classroom; the lights that were left on illuminated a small section of the hallway giving a little comfort that dispersed the eerie feeling of darkness that had surrounded them for far too long.

            “Speaking of that,” Yonghwa started to entertain as they entered the well lit classroom and both took seats beside the window where they could see the parking lot, “How much do you know about the Jung Seunghyun?” The brightness seemed to have brought back Shinhye’s sense of security as she shifted around in her seat, now looking more held together.

            “He was the founder of our school and was assassinated some number of years ago.” She answered, her explanation filled with wishy-washy holes.

            “Rumor has it that when he was found the next morning, there was a crimson red rose just like the one we saw earlier, soaking in a small pool of his blood.” He explained with the voice of a story narrator. He would glance back at her occasionally only to see that she looked more and more fearful, but he kept his main focus out the window into the pitch black sky and the dimly lit parking lot gifted with only one streetlight that held an inconsistent fluttering light bulb.

            “Some say that the murderer was a gang member who was angry that Jung Seunghyun built this school over their territory—“

            “Stop!” Shinhye suddenly begged, impulsively placing her palm directly over Yonghwa’s mouth so that he couldn’t utter another word. For someone who never cared for the late founder’s assassination whenever the annual memorial came around, he sure knew a lot. He looked back at her with shocked eyes, but hers were closed tight with her free hand covering her right ear. After a few seconds, her hand retreated and Yonghwa let out a deep breath, staring back out the parking lot. There was something that caught his attention, but as scared as he was making Shinhye right now he wouldn’t have the heart to tell her everything.

            “You know the news article you saw in the drawer earlier?” Yonghwa brought up, changing the topic to one that was still much related. She nodded, ignoring the window and his wandering gazes altogether.

            “It was the exact same one I gave you this morning.” She remembered, thinking back to when Yonghwa titled it to be litter, throwing it onto the ground where the light autumn breezes would blow it into thorny bushels.

            “Not quite,” Yonghwa sighed, now squinting at the figure he saw below. The lack of eye contact didn’t peak Shinhye’s attention as she was already too spooked out.

            “What do you mean?” She asked obliviously, thinking back to the same emerald green banner that painted across the newspaper and the bolded headline located on the same page, along with the exact same photo of Jung Seunghyun.

            “That article was dated September 3, 1992; the day after Jung Seunghyun’s assassination.” Yonghwa revealed in a more serious tone. There was something he didn’t understand, and something extremely strange going on. He only hoped that whatever it was, it would leave like this Memorial Day would and that tomorrow everything would be normal again. He didn’t know what he was trying to prove by telling Shinhye this, but nothing he told her would freak her out more than the fact that the parking lot just outside was empty except for one slot where the same black car from this morning stayed seeded. Leaning casually against the driver’s door was the silhouette of a man, too dark for Yonghwa to recognize but the way his head tilted compared to the positioning of his body showed that he too was looking right back up at Yonghwa; exchanging fierce glances in silence.

            “Are you suggesting that someone who was primarily present near the act of the murder had been here?” Shinhye tried her best to rationally find an explanation, but it was a question Yonghwa couldn’t answer.

            “I don’t know, but I have a feeling things are going to get complicated from now on.” He admitted, watching as the silhouette disappeared into the driver’s seat, the car lights turning on as he drove away. Once his car was out of sight Yonghwa turned his attention back to Shinhye, somehow knowing that the strange happenings were done for the night.

            “It’s really late now and we should get going. I’ll walk you home.” He grabbed Shinhye’s coral pink sweater from the desk behind her chair and tossed it into her arms, standing up to lead the way as she followed him again like a well trained dog. They walked in a single file line with Yonghwa at the front; the only item occupying his mind was who this Kang Minhyuk guy was.

A/N: Okay I'm officially a coward! I was in the middle of writing this and this chapter took me a total of 3 hours because in the middle I kept taking breaks and distracting myself since what I was writing was creeping me out so much. I was home alone at midnight, sitting beside a window where it was pitch black outside with a faulty street light and a cold... But this chapter was quite interesting to write. I hope you all enjoy this and that it won't give you any nightmares xD I don't think anything I write can be capable of that.