Chen renzou is sure that he doesn’t believe in curses.
From middle school until junior year of high school, all he ever heard were other students talking about the school being “cursed,” but not the fun, Halloween ‘you’ll grow hair on your tongue’ type of curse. So many young men who once attended the school disappeared without a trace.
— “I heard somebody built the school on an indigenous burial ground,’’ he heard a boy whisper during lunch once.
“No, I think it’s some crazy serial killer.’’ another kid chimed in.
Maybe it was? Maybe some of the weird conspiracy theories were true?
Renzou doubted it. He’d heard them all before—one too many times. Maybe it was because of how he was raised, or perhaps he just had more common sense than most kids his age, but the stories always felt like overblown gossip to him.
Besides, the last disappearance was years ago. Surely if the school really were cursed, it would’ve claimed someone more recently. Still, his friends never let it go. They loved teasing him, telling him he was the perfect target.
“You’re next, Renzou~” they’d sing, laughing at his annoyed expression.
He laughed it off every time. “That would never happen,” he’d say with unwavering confidence. “Right?”
But deep down, it always worried him—the stories, the whispers, the possibility that maybe there was something more to them. He hated walking home alone at night: the empty streets, the flickering streetlights, the endless dark corners. Renzou wasn’t exactly built for self-defense, and for all the book smarts he prided himself on, street smarts were not his forte.
There was always someone willing to walk Renzou home: a boy named Shin Huo.
Huo was a recluse, the kind of kid you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for him. He came from money—a wealthy Chinese family, or so they said—but something strange about him didn’t quite add up.
For one, Huo didn’t seem Chinese. His Mandarin, when he spoke it, was robotic, like someone reciting memorized lines. His skin was pale, his features sharp, and his eyes light. He didn’t look like his family—or like anyone Renzou knew.
“Adopted,” Renzou thought. That made sense.
Renzou had always liked Huo, though. His quiet, shadowy presence was fascinating. Where Renzou was loud and energetic, Huo was reserved, barely speaking above a whisper. The other kids called him “Mouse,” which always fit him well.
But there was something more strange about Huo, something Renzou couldn’t put into words. He couldn’t help but wonder—what was really going on inside Huo’s mind?
The two boys walked in complete silence, which felt heavier every second. Neither said a word the entire way. Their gazes stayed locked on the pavement as if the sidewalk were the most fascinating thing in the world.
When they finally reached Renzou’s house, he shifted, unsure how to break the tension. His front gate creaked faintly in the stillness as he pushed it open, casting a quick glance back at the other.
“Well, thank you,” Renzou said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He wasn’t sure why he was thanking him—Huo had walked him home daily for months. Still, it felt like the polite thing to do.
Huo didn’t reciprocate the smile. His face remained frozen in that distant, blank look, as if smiling was something he’d never learned to do. Instead, he bowed slightly, his movements stiff and deliberate, and murmured in his barely-audible voice, “Thank you.”
Renzou blinked, momentarily stunned. “Wait… thank you?” he asked, his voice rising with confusion. “For what?”
Huo didn’t answer.
Before Renzou could finish the question, Huo straightened up, turned sharply on his heel, and walked away. His figure disappeared into the night, and renzou felt.. scared.
Renzou stood frozen at the gate, watching until the last trace of Huo was gone. He swallowed hard, his head spinning in circles.
“What was that about?” he thought to himself.
He always found Huo’s quietness interesting; it was something he couldn’t quite figure out. But tonight, interest gave way to something different, something that knotted his stomach and tightened the air around him.
A chill settled in his chest, one that he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the silence or how Huo left so quickly. It was something else, something he couldn’t name.
Something sinister.
When Renzou thought about it, Huo seemed like the perfect target for this so-called “serial killer.” Quiet. Timid. Practically invisible. If Huo disappeared, would anyone even notice? So why hadn’t he been taken yet?
If the school were cursed, it wouldn’t discriminate. Whatever it was—curse or killer—it wouldn’t pick and choose. Anyone could be next, right?
Or…
Maybe the reason nothing had happened to Huo was because…
He’s part of it.
A chill went down Renzou’s spine at the thought. Had he been letting someone possibly involved in the kidnapping of other kids walk him home every night? His mom even invited him in once on a hot summer day.
“No, that’s silly, ” he whispered to himself as he sat at his desk in his dim bedroom. His eyes were wide as he stared down at the homework he desperately needed to do. But he couldn’t keep his mind off this situation. Why was Huo acting so weird?
No matter how much he tried to shake the thought, it kept creeping back in, twisting his stomach into tighter knots.
The next few days passed in a haze of restless nights. Renzou didn’t dare ask Huo to walk him home again. He couldn’t bring himself to see him—not yet. Instead, he begged his dad to pick him up after school, no matter how much grumbling and complaining it caused.
“Come on, you’re almost an adult,” his dad had said more than once. “You can walk on your own, can’t you?”
But Renzou didn’t care. He wasn’t taking any chances. Still, as the days passed, he couldn’t escape the nagging question: Why is Huo so strange?
And more importantly… What was he hiding?
Renzou stood in front of the school gates, darting his weight from foot to foot as he scanned the street for his dad’s car. His stomach churned with apprehension.
He was being watched. He could tell; he felt exposed, and it sent a chill down his spine.
His head snapped around, his eyes darting across the empty courtyard. Nothing. No one. He let out a shaky breath, trying to convince himself it was just his nerves.
But when he turned back to face the street, the feeling lingered. It clung to him, crawling up his spine and making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
Before he could think further, he felt it—fingers wrapping around his arm.
He yelped, jumping as he turned sharply, his heart pounding in his chest. It was Huo.
The taller boy loomed over him, his face expressionless, those light, empty eyes staring down at him.
“O-oh! Hey!” Renzou stammered, his throat dry. He forced a smile, swallowing hard as he tried to steady his voice. “What’s up?” He cleared his throat, hoping it would make him sound less nervous.
“Do you need help getting home?” Huo murmured, his voice barely louder than a whisper. His gaze stayed fixed on Renzou, unblinking.
“No, I don’t,” Renzou said quickly, a little too quickly. “My dad’s picking me up.”
“Oh…” Huo’s hand slid away from his arm, his touch lingering just long enough to make Renzou’s skin crawl. He glanced away briefly, his face unreadable, before looking back down at him.
“Do you want to come to my house?” Huo asked softly. “We can study.”
The words hung in the air, heavier than they should’ve been.
Maybe this was Renzou’s only chance to figure it out. Maybe he could help someone—or stop the disappearances.
“Yes!” he exclaimed too quickly. He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “Yes, I’d like that,” he repeated, offering a smile.
Huo’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before he nodded. “…Wonderful,” he murmured, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.
Some of the tension eased, and Renzou felt himself relax. Maybe he’d been wrong about Huo. Maybe he was just a socially awkward kid. That wasn’t a crime.
“Let’s go,” Huo said softly, stepping back for Renzou to follow. And renzou reluctantly did.
Huo’s house wasn’t what Renzou expected—not really. He knew Huo came from money, but this?
Nestled at the edge of town, the massive, gothic mansion looked like something out of a ghost story. It loomed over the unkempt yard, its dark exterior shrouded in vines. Tall grass threatened to overtake the windowsills, swaying faintly in the cool breeze.
Renzou swallowed hard, his eyes trailing up to the sharp peaks of the roofline. His own house was lovely— but not rich, and nothing like this.
“This… is your place?” he asked, his voice betraying a slight tremble.
Huo didn’t say anything at first, simply nodding as he walked toward the towering front door. The door looked ancient. Renzou couldn’t help but think it might’ve been built by Huo’s ancestors long before anyone they knew was alive.
Huo paused at the threshold, fishing through his pockets before pulling out an old iron key. He slid it into the lock, the loud click echoing in the still air.
The sound was so harsh and grating as the door creaked open that Renzou winced, resisting the urge to cover his ears.
Huo stepped inside without hesitation, glancing back at Renzou. “Are you coming?”
Renzou hesitated for a moment before stepping through the doorway.
The smell of food cooking hit Renzou’s senses. It smelled good, and he was shocked. He’s not too used to home cooking, and whoever is cooking right now is exceptional at it. But there’s this faint smell of chemicals in the air.
Probably just cleaning supplies, he thought. That wasn’t so strange, right?
His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the space. It was a large and surprisingly ordinary living area. The furniture looked worn but comfortable. A shoe rack by the wall held five pairs of shoes, and baby toys were scattered across the rug like a toddler had been playing there just moments ago.
Huo has a younger sibling? Renzou thought, startled. Huo had never mentioned it—or any of his family, for that matter.
Renzou slipped off his shoes, placing them neatly by the door before following Huo further inside.
“Mom! I’m home!”
The sudden shout made Renzou jump, his heart skipping a beat. He turned, wide-eyed, toward Huo. It was so jarring to hear him like that—so loud, so forceful.
Huo didn’t seem to notice Renzou’s reaction. He stood there quietly after calling out, his usual calm, unreadable expression settling back into place.
A woman descended the staircase, her steps slow and deliberate. The way she carried herself immediately caught Renzou’s attention—there was an awkwardness in her movements, something timid and unsure, like a battered housewife in an old movie.
Her eyes were weary as if she hadn’t slept in weeks, but she managed a small, polite smile as her gaze landed on the two boys.
“Oh, hello…” she said softly, her voice gentle but strained. “Huo, is… this a friend from school?”
“Yes.” Huo nodded once, his tone as flat as ever. “This is Renzou.”
Renzou cleared his throat and stepped forward, his instincts kicking in. He offered his hand, trying to make a good impression. “It’s… very nice to meet you, Ms. Shin.”
But as he extended his hand, she flinched.
It was subtle—just a quick, involuntary movement—but Renzou caught it. His eyebrows knitted together as he hesitated, lowering his hand awkwardly.
She recovered quickly, her smile faltering but still present. “Oh, it’s… nice to meet you too, dear,” she said, her hands clasping tightly in front of her to avoid touching him.
Renzou forced a smile back, but something about the interaction unsettled him.
“Uh—well… dinner is about done, so… stay if you’d like,” Ms. Shin said softly, her slight smile lingering.
Renzou nodded politely, some of his unease easing. They seemed friendly enough—normal, even. Maybe this weird hunch he had really was just his imagination running wild.
“…No, I really shouldn’t,” he murmured, glancing down at his feet. “I don’t want to intrude.”
But even as the words left his mouth, his palms were clammy with sweat. The house was clean, it smelled good, and everyone had been perfectly friendly, yet something deep inside him screamed at him to leave.
“No, stay. Please.”
Huo’s voice cut through the air as his hand landed firmly on Renzou’s shoulder. The younger boy flinched instinctively, recoiling at the contact. Huo’s touch always made his skin crawl.
He felt cornered, the tension in the room suffocating. With no graceful way to refuse, Renzou swallowed thickly and nodded.
“…Fine.”
The dining room radiated elegance. A long table draped in pristine silk stretched across the space, its surface adorned with ornate details. Overhead, an intricate chandelier, polished woodwork, and delicate craftsmanship that seemed to define every corner of the house.
For most people, it would have been awe-inspiring, but for Renzou, it was unsettling. The sheer size of the house, the grandeur of it all—it only made him more nervous. His chest tightened at the thought: If I needed to run… where would I even go?
He sighed softly and lowered himself into one of the heavy chairs, his knees brushing against the table’s edge. The room was so quiet he could hear the faint creak of the chair as Ms. Shin sat across from him. She rocked slightly, her hands gripping the armrests as she let out a shaky breath.
The chemical smell he’d noticed earlier was even more pungent here. Renzou’s gaze darted around the room, searching for its source. His eyes landed on a corner of the ceiling.
A camera.
Its small red light blinked steadily, watching.
Why would they need a camera in here?
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. A man entered the room, tall and lean, his bleach-blonde hair almost unnaturally bright under the chandelier’s light. He looked young—maybe in his twenties—and carried himself with an easy confidence. An older brother, perhaps?
The man quietly placed plates in the center of the table, his expression neutral, almost bored.
“Zongneng,” Ms. Shin said suddenly, her voice cracking slightly. “Can you please go get the baby?”
The man, Zongneng, didn’t respond right away. He turned towards her, a smile coming to his face. “Of course, mother!” he chirped.
Renzou shifted in his seat, his unease growing. He glanced toward Huo, who sat silently beside him, his gaze fixed on the empty plate in front of him. Huo hadn’t spoken a word since they sat down.
That man, Zongneng—his chipperness—stuck with Renzou. Why was he so happy? He acted completely opposite from the rest of the family. Ms. Shin’s fidgeting had only worsened the moment he left the room, as if Zongneng’s presence had been the only thing keeping her slightly calm.
The door creaked open again, pulling Renzou’s attention.
A tall, brooding man entered the room, his presence instantly changing the atmosphere. Everyone tensed. He was intimidating, his face devoid of emotion, and his sharp gaze swept across the room before landing on Renzou.
“Hello, family,” he said flatly, his voice low. He sat at the head of the table, his movements deliberate, calculated.
“Who is this?” he asked, gesturing toward Renzou with a flick of his hand.
“…Oh, um, honey-” Ms. Shin started, her voice trembling. She seemed to struggle with her words, her tone cracking as she forced them out. “This is Renzou. He’s… Huo’s friend.”
“Oh,” Mr. Shin replied, his expression unchanged as he gave a slow nod. “Lovely. Usually, we have to find them. This is the first time they’ve come to us.”
Renzou’s brows knitted together, confusion coming to his face. His stomach twisted and turned. What did he mean by that?
“Uhm… wha—” Renzou began, his voice shaky as he tried to ask what Mr. Shin meant. But the door creaked open again before he could finish, pulling his attention. He turned his head, his eyes landing on the figure in the doorway.
It was Zongneng returning. But he wasn’t holding a baby.
Renzou’s heart sank as he realized what he was seeing. Zongneng carried a boy—no older than a teenager. But the boy had a pacifier in his mouth, dressed in a onesie as though he really was a baby. Zongneng set him down at the table, removing the binky with a practiced hand. The boy’s jaw hung oddly, deformed as if it had never fully developed beyond infancy.
Renzou stared, his stomach twisting. He felt sick like he could throw up before he even started eating; what are they doing to this boy?
“Here you go, Xiaojin!” Zongneng said cheerfully, placing a bowl of baby food in front of the boy along with a colorful spoon. But the spoon was pointless; Xiaojin grabbed the mushy food with his hand, shoveling it into his mouth.
Renzou’s stomach turned. He covered his mouth with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut as though pretending this wasn’t happening might make it disappear. “Why did I agree to come here?” he thought desperately. “What is wrong with this family?”
“Everyone, dig in,” Said Mr. Shin In his low, commanding voice.
Renzou hesitated, slowly opening his eyes to look at the food before him. His appetite was gone, replaced by a sickness he’s never felt before.
Renzou kept his head low, his eyes fixed on the table as everyone picked up their utensils and began eating. The clinking of knives and forks against plates filled the air, accompanied by the faint, wet sound of chewing. The meat in the center of the table gleamed under the chandelier’s light, it was strange-looking, a slight gray color, and renzou couldn’t even begin to tell what type of animal it came from.
The longer Renzou sat there, the dizzier he felt. The oppressive air of the house weighed heavily on him.
“Why aren’t you eating, Renzou?” Zongneng asked suddenly, his tone light, almost teasing. He tilted his head with a faint smile. “You don’t like my cooking?” He chuckled softly, but the sound sent a chill down Renzou’s spine.
“U-uhm… No, it’s not that, it’s—” Renzou stammered, his voice barely audible.
“Eat.”
The single word came from Huo, cutting through the air like a knife. His voice was low and commanding, a tone Renzou had never heard from him before. It made Renzou’s heart skip a beat as his gaze snapped toward the boy sitting next to him. Huo’s deep eyes were locked on him, unblinking, his expression devoid of anything.
Renzou’s hand trembled as he picked up a piece of the meat with his fork. Every instinct screamed at him to stop, to put it down, and to get up and leave. But the weight of their stares were suffocating. Slowly, he brought the fork to his mouth and took a bite.
metallic, sour, and revolting is all he could taste. His face twisted in disgust, and his stomach churning as he forced himself to swallow.
“How is it, Regjin?” Mr. Shin asked, his voice steady and emotionless. A sharp click echoed immediately after, though Renzou couldn’t tell where it came from.
He blinked, his brow furrowing as confusion overtook his nausea. “Regjin? Who… who is that?” he asked, his voice shaking.
The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. Huo’s deep, dark eyes stayed fixed on him, unblinking, as a faint smile ghosted across Zongneng’s face.
“You, silly,” Zongneng said with a laugh, his head tilting. That same sinister smile clung to his lips, mockingly. “Who else?”
“Yeah, Regjin,” Ms. Shin chimed in, her voice soft but strained. “How was school?”
Click.
That strange, sharp sound followed her words again, setting Renzou further on edge.
“I—I’m not… I’m not Regjin,” Renzou stammered, his voice cracking as he looked around the table, his heart pounding.
The room froze for a beat, and then came the sharp crack of Mr. Shin’s hand across Renzou’s face. The force sent Renzou’s head snapping to the side, his cheek stinging as tears started forming in the corners of his eyes.
“Don’t talk back,” Mr. Shin grumbled, his voice low and deep. “You are who we say you are.”
Renzou clutched his face, fear flooding his veins. His mind screamed at him to run, but his body refused to move. he felt dizzy, like he could pass out at any moment.
“Dad!” Zongneng gasped. “Don’t smack him like that! He’s your son too!”
Renzou’s head spun, forgetting about the sting in his cheek from panic flooding his chest. “Your son too?” The words echoed in his mind, terrifying.
Summoning what little strength he had left, Renzou pushed himself up from the table. His legs wobbled beneath him, failing to keep steady as he stumbled toward the doorway.
The sound of chairs scraping against the floor followed him, and the heavy footsteps weren’t far behind.
Renzou clawed at the walls for support, his legs unsteady and his vision twisting and turning. The hallway felt endless, the corners turning in on him. Every step was a struggle, but he kept going, desperation and the thought he would never see his sibling again driving him forward.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
A strong hand gripped his shoulder, yanking him back. Before he could react, he was shoved down onto the floor.
Huo was on top of him, straddling his chest and pinning him in place. His pale eyes glistened with something unrecognizable; pity? Sadness?
“I’m so sorry, Renzou…” Huo whispered, his voice trembling. “But you’re Regjin now. You have no choice.”
True fear surged through Renzou’s body. His heart pounded in his chest as dread consumed him.
Then everything went black.
[Image Credit : Photo by Marek Pavlík on Unsplash]
Delia green is a young writer and author from Ohio looking to expand her portfolio. She has experience in short horror stories.
