Chapter 6: It’s A Trap

Chapter 6: It's A Trap The next block turned out to be the place. From the outside, it looked... normal. Too normal. The front reception area had an old, faded sign hanging slightly off its hinges, swaying with the breeze. The lighting inside was dim, casting long shadows against the walls. The moment I stepped in, the old woman behind the reception desk lifted her head, her sharp eyes piercing into me like she already knew too much. I hesitated. Something about her gaze felt wrong—not just watchful, but like she was measuring something I couldn't quite name. "I'm the new boarder," I said, pushing my hands into my pockets to stop my fingers from twitching. Her eyes softened just a little, but it wasn't reassuring. If anything, it was worse. "Pity," she muttered under her breath. I stiffened. "What?" She didn't look at me this time. Instead, she sighed, shaking her head as if I had just signed my own death certificate. "The young people these days... so gullible," she murmured, more to herself than to me. A chill crawled down my spine. I wanted to ask what she meant. I wanted to demand answers. But something in her expression told me I wouldn't like them. So I kept my mouth shut. She slid the keys across the desk. "Room 12." I took them, my fingers brushing against hers for just a second. Her skin was ice cold. Too cold. I yanked my hand back, swallowing down the unease creeping up my throat. Ignoring the way my instincts screamed at me to get the hell out of here, I turned away, scanning the lobby. Other boarders shuffled in and out, heads down, moving too quickly like they couldn't wait to disappear into their rooms. Not a single one looked at me. Not. One. Fine. Whatever. I needed to check out my place—see if it was actually as decent as it looked online or if I had been scammed into renting a nightmare. Room 12 was on the second floor, tucked away at the very end of a narrow hallway with flickering lights. The moment I unlocked the door and stepped inside, I paused. Oh. It was... nice. Too nice. Small, cozy, almost like one of those fancy Airbnbs you'd find in a travel ad. It had a compact kitchen, a comfortable living room, and a well-furnished bedroom. And the rent was ridiculously cheap. If this place were in my country, it would've cost a fortune—an arm and a leg at the very least. I dropped my bag by the door and moved further inside. My belongings were already in the bedroom, neatly placed like someone had taken great care in arranging them. The bedroom itself was spacious—a large closet, a small desk with a chair, a bookshelf, and a medium-sized, ridiculously inviting bed. I ran my fingers along the edge of the mattress. Soft. Comfortable. Perfect. And yet— I couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off. Not with the room itself, but with the entire place. The too-luxurious-for-the-price setup. The way the boarders rushed to their rooms. The old woman's words. The fact that my instincts wouldn't stop screaming at me that I had just made a mistake. I exhaled slowly. This place isn't that bad. Apart from the people. And apart from the fact that it felt like the walls themselves were watching me. First things first. I needed to get out of this stupid disguise. The ridiculous dark brown wig was the first to go, and the moment I yanked it off, I sighed in relief. Then came the tight wrap I had strapped around my chest, the one that had been crushing the life out of me all day. As soon as it came off, I swear my boobs did a victory slam. "God," I muttered, rubbing my sore ribs. The things I do for my brother. I rummaged through my suitcase, pulling out a big T-shirt, sweatpants, and a thick hoodie to keep things loose and inconspicuous eg my boobs. My real hair was still wrapped up, so I shoved a beanie over it to make sure nothing peeked out. It wasn't much, but at least now I could breathe. With that done, I moved on to unpacking. By the time I finished, the sky outside had dimmed, a deep shade of blue creeping in through my window. 7:00 PM. I moved to the window and cracked it open just a little, letting in the cool evening air. My room was facing the front, which was perfect—I had a clear view of the entrance. I could see Sara when she came back. If she came back. That thought sent an uneasy chill crawling down my spine, but I shook it off. She'd be fine. Right? I grabbed my laptop, settled onto my bed, and pulled up my browser. It was time to get some answers. First, I searched for this town's history. Then, I dug into anything related to disappearances, strange occurrences, or anything remotely supernatural. And lastly— I searched for what led me here in the first place. The thing that ruined my brother. The reason I came here disguised as a boy. And as the screen loaded, casting a cold glow across my face, I had this nagging feeling. A feeling that whatever I was about to find— I wasn't going to like it. It wasn't just the town. It was the whole damn country. And apparently, this place didn't just have a few strange traditions or quirky urban legends—no, it believed in things that go bump in the night. I scrolled through countless articles. Some called it "legends." Others brushed it off as silly superstitions, the kind every old country clung to. But here's where things got weird. Despite all these supposed "myths," this country was thriving. It was one of the richest nations in the world, yet the cost of living was shockingly low. Rent? Dirt cheap. Food? Practically free. Basic necessities? Affordable for everyone. People were flocking here like moths to a flame. Why? Because everything—every single thing—was too good to be true. Even Memoville University, the one I just enrolled in, had the highest academic ranking worldwide. Top-tier education. State-of-the-art facilities. Extensive scholarships. All for pennies compared to what other universities charged. No wonder students poured in every year like lambs to slaughter. But when it came to "strange occurrences," the reports were... oddly vague. The articles just glossed over the weird stuff, like it was nothing. They mentioned things like: The occasional sighting of "magnificent creatures" (mostly wolves). Some local folklore about the land being "blessed." A high influx of tourists drawn to the country's natural beauty. But that was it. No real news reports on disappearances. No police investigations. No firsthand accounts of the things people must have seen. It was like someone cleaned up the history, wiping out anything remotely dangerous. Then, my cursor hovered over a video link buried deep in an old discussion forum. A live stream. I clicked. And instantly, the screen flickered to life, showing a young man standing on top of a building—his face twisted in sheer terror. His breaths were ragged, his voice shaking. Tears streaked his pale cheeks as he held up his phone, live-streaming himself. "Whatever you do—" he choked on a sob, his wild eyes darting over his shoulder. "Don't come here." His voice cracked. "It's a trap." And then— He jumped. A sickening lurch of the camera. A blur of motion. A horrific thud. The screen cut to black. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared— The video was pulled down. I stared at the screen, my hands clammy, my breath shallow. Gone. No replay button. No trace of the uploader. Like it had never existed. I hadn't even gotten to watch the beginning. Had he explained what he saw? Had he mentioned why it was a trap? And most importantly— Had my twin seen the same thing before he disappeared? Did he freak out just like the guy in the video? Did he see something that made him— I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting into a thousand knots. What the fuck had my brother gotten himself into? And worse... What the fuck had I just walked into? Damn. This just got a whole lot darker. I stared at my screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, heart pounding so loud it felt like it was echoing in my ears. That video— It was real. Live. And now, it was gone. Like it had never existed. I clicked refresh. Nothing. I copied the link, pasted it into another tab. Error 404. Page not found. Like someone had reached into the internet itself and yanked it out before anyone else could see it. But I saw it. I saw the fear in that guy's eyes, the way his voice cracked as he begged the world to listen. "Whatever you do, don't come here. It's a trap." And then—he jumped. Just like that. A chill crawled up my spine. What the hell had my twin gotten himself into? Had he been just like that guy—crying, desperate, standing on some ledge before he— No. I refused to believe it. I shut my laptop hard, the sound echoing through my small apartment. My hands were shaking, but I clenched them into fists, pressing them into my thighs. I had come here for answers. And I was going to get them. No matter who or what tried to stop me.