Nightmare Game
Copyright© 2025 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 66
Where is it?
Where’s the spider?
Irene sprang from the bed, heart pounding, terrified it might suddenly appear beside her.
A quick scan showed no sign of the spider on the bed.
“Zoe,” Irene whispered, inching to the other side and gently tapping Zoe’s shoulder.
Zoe lay on her side, hair covering half her face, her expression hidden.
She seemed fast asleep, unmoving despite Irene’s pats and calls.
Could it be—had Zoe died?
The thought alone turned Irene’s face ghostly pale; if Zoe was dead, wouldn’t she be next?
She abandoned Zoe and bolted for the door.
If she could escape the room, she might still have a chance!
The room was small, and she reached the door quickly, twisting the handle, ready to—
What?
Her mouth went dry, a wave of despair washing over her like she was stranded in a scorching desert.
The handle turned, but the door wouldn’t budge, as if an invisible force held it shut from the other side, resisting her every effort.
She pounded the door with her fists, shouting for help, but no sound came back.
Helplessness, fear, despair.
Overwhelming emotions clouded her mind; she screamed herself hoarse, grabbed a stool, and smashed it against the door, but nothing worked.
Her heart sank—she was trapped, no way out.
What now?
What could she do?
Maybe find the spider first?
She wasn’t sure, but she had no other options.
The spider’s disappearance spelled trouble, a disaster either way.
Maya’s death came after her room’s spider vanished, triggering Arachnis’s vengeance.
But if the spider had mutated and was now after her, she’d fare no better.
The locked door made it clear something awful was happening, and she was powerless.
Regret hit hard—she wished she’d gone with the others to chop the Darkgold Tree; at least she wouldn’t be alone.
But it was too late for regrets; she refused to sit and wait.
A weapon—she needed a weapon.
She grabbed a clothes pole from the wardrobe and cautiously approached Zoe.
Her earlier commotion should’ve woken anyone merely sleeping, so Zoe’s stillness meant something was wrong.
Irene extended the pole, nudging Zoe’s body.
It’s fine, it’s fine, she told herself, holding her breath.
She’d seen horror movies where checking a friend revealed gruesome sights.
Maybe the spider was on Zoe, ready to lunge the moment she turned her over.
Her heart raced, hands trembling with fear and tension.
With effort, she used the pole to flip Zoe face-up, her pulse in her throat.
But no horrific scene awaited.
Zoe’s hair fell aside, revealing an unmarred face, serene as if in deep, peaceful sleep.
Irene froze, thrown off, unsure how to react.
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