So, hey, guys! How's your Christmas comin' so far? Mine's SUPER busy, I tell you! It's crazy with Chem finals. AP Chem is really freaking difficult…I suck at math…But anyway, enjoy the remake, guys. Inspiration goes to…Drum Roll…the original Ao Oni game, Highschool Drama, Numerous CreepyPastas that I've been reading, and H.P. Lovecraft! Gotta love that guy!Horror With the Poser

Xxx

Once he'd reached the top step, Naoki didn't say a word before sauntering off to the next floor. Not that Takuro or Mika minded, because of course they didn't.

When Naoki first attended the academy, Mika and Takuro hadn't been nearly as aware of him as they were now. In fact, Mika actually thought he was kind of cute. Of course, compared to Takuro, he was absolutely nothing. But that was one reason Takuro was so aware of him; any other man was a rival for Mika's love. Even though he didn't need to be—he had Mika's love wrapped around his finger.

No one had a reason to be suspicious of him at first; he was just a new student in a four hundred-thousand people school. He was instantly popular among the girls—he was very handsome and quite the charmer—and some of the guys even claimed he had turned them bi. He appeared to be a pretty good kid and Hiroshi took a liking to him after a few weeks or so.

But, for whatever reason, he and Nikoru didn't seem to like one another. It had started during the very first month: Naoki and Hiroshi had clearly established a relationship—a friendship—and Naoki had joined Cram Committee. Nikoru thought he was interesting and had started talking to him. Several days later, as Mika and Hiroshi were leaving Cram Committee one evening, they found Nikoru outside with a tray of coffee.

She always had coffee.

Mika and Hiroshi grabbed a cup, and they sat on the bleachers beside the football field, cheering Takuro on. That's where a rather mortified Naoki found them ten minutes later. Furiously, he pushed between Nikoru and Hiroshi—nearly knocking Mika off the narrow bleachers—and began arguing with Nikoru. Confused and insulted, Nikoru fought him defensively until Hiroshi snapped and yelled at them both, earning the football field's attention. Naoki then apologized and blamed his angry interruption on nerves and a lack of caffeine. Nikoru was all for continuing the argument, but Hiroshi regarded her sternly and she surrendered and reluctantly apologized.

Then Naoki sat between them and Mika noticed Nikoru was glaring at him.

Things had been different since. The group thought Naoki and Nikoru would work it out—the argument hadn't been that big of a deal to everyone else—but they were both still troubled. They rarely talked anymore unless it was during a brawl. They fought every other day, and when they weren't fighting, they were glaring.

Takuro finally slammed his hands on a desk one day, announcing to the group that there was a disrupted link between the two. Satō didn't really know what to think. Hiroshi was indifferent; he didn't understand the dilemma. He didn't really understand anyone's drama.

Mika wanted to know why Naoki and Nikoru showed a sort of passive-aggression towards each other. The only reason she'd invited Naoki along was to test the waters, examine their behavior when they were locked inside a haunted mansion for an entire night.

"Well, let's go find a room, if you know what I mean." Takuro nudged Mika playfully and winked. She giggled and squeezed his hand as he led her down the hallway.

Takuro grabbed the first doorknob he saw and turned to Mika again; "This room all good?"

"Mmm," She murmured and wiggled between him and the wall. "But lock the door, Naoki-san is scary."

Takuro laughed and kicked the door open. "'Course, baby."

Caught up in their hormones, they failed to notice the darkness settling around them even with the beams of the flashlights. The temperature was dropping, the air was quickly becoming dense. Then there was a sudden low seething, like a wisp of wind. It was hungry, starving.

Takuro slammed the door shut and pinned Mika against it with his hips. She shivered delightfully and hummed. They never went past making out—Takuro swore they'd be married before they took one step further. But that was still nice anyway.

Bending down, Takuro smashed his lips into hers greedily. "Oh, babe," he groaned. "You taste so good."

"Mmm!" Mika squealed, sinking her fingers into his hair and kneading. "Mmmm, I love you, Takuro."

Takuro bit her bottom lip appreciatively. "I love you, too, babe."

If they had a moment to spare instead of eating each others faces, they would have noticed the black orb wavering from behind a closet door. A toothy vortex opened in the shadows and a long dribble of drool slid down the darkness and dripped on the floor.

Xxx

Hiroshi grabbed the knob on the left door towards the end of the hall. It was locked. He snorted and turned away, facing the last door in the hallway. It was like the others, thick and red. But he could feel a draft coming from beyond; it curled around his feet as if pulling him there. Curious, he grabbed the knob and twisted it.

Inside was a comfy looking living room with a long wooden dining table, a polka-dotted couch, a rug, and a widescreen TV. It reminded him of Takuro's mismatched home.

The sound must have come from here, he mused. It would be on the floor—it obviously fell and shattered. He looked around, checking under the couch and the rug and the table and around everything else. Okay, nothing here so it must be somewhere by the north wall. There were multiple cupboards and a fridge, everything you'd expect in a kitchen.

He couldn't help but admire at how surprisingly clean and tidy this room was, once again surpassing the requirements of a creepy old house in the middle of the woods. The first thing that caught his eye was a small, brown mug sitting on one of the marble counters. He picked it up and examined it; dusty and it smelled like fresh coffee.

Hmm.

It had no importance to Hiroshi. He started to set it back on the counter when something below the mug caught his eye. His gaze flickered to the floor and landed on a decorative broken plate, shattered into several pieces scattered across the floor. This was what he had been searching for. Hiroshi replaced the mug, careful to set it as it was before, and clenched his jaw; there were no other dinner plates on any of the shelves and there was nothing in the sink.

The shelves must be slanted, he concluded as he bent down and began to carefully pick up all the slivers, using his scarf to hold them.

Being slightly OCD about messes, he picked up every piece until they were all cradled in his scarf. Then he stood and overturned his scarf into in the sink.

As he examined the pristine white contrasted by the silver sink, an overwhelming sensation of paranoia washed over him. He glanced over his shoulder. Nothing was there. He sighed, exasperated. There's nothing there, he thought angrily. Don't be silly.

But just to be safe, he took one of the larger pieces for himself. Might as well, he decided. Who knows, it might come in handy, and he pocketed it.

Nothing else sparked any interest in him, but he searched the empty cupboards anyway before exiting the room. Wondering how much time that he had spent, he slid his sleeve down just far enough to view the honker of a Swiss watch Takuro had bought him for his last birthday. Eight twenty, he'd spent about ten minutes.

"What a complete waste of time," he muttered. All he'd found was that damn plate shard and a dusty old mug.

Before he could take another step down the dim hallway, there was a loud thump from above. It was immediately followed by a series of thuds. Is someone running?

Looking up, he rationed the floorboards weren't what they once were; of course they'd be creaking. They were old and liable to make noises, as would any floor in any other house. And half the party was probably up there besides Takeshi, Nikoru, and he-who-Hiroshi-didn't-want-to-think-about. However, knowing Nikoru, she had probably ditched the technical team and was exploring on her own. Or spying on Takuro and Mika. That was probably the only reason those two agreed to split up: 'alone time.'

And Nikoru was a filthy pervert…

But maybe there was something weird going on. Why else would someone being sprinting around upstairs for? What if someone had fallen through a rotting section of the floor? What if someone was hurt?

Hiroshi huffed and slapped himself. What was he so paranoid for? It was just an old mansion with overgrown weeds and a really nice interior! And there were no such things as ghosts or monsters. They were scapegoats for the insane. That was his logic and he knew he was right. What could go wrong? Unless an atom bomb happened to randomly fall on their heads, they were safe. No reason to be paranoid. Paranoia was just a chemical mix up of the mind, anyway. No big deal!

He pushed on to the foyer. The rooms had been pretty well lit so far but if a pitch-black room was around to question, he knew he'd want something to brighten things up. Takeshi had brought several flashlights in that frog pack of his. Surely he'd lend one to Hiroshi.

The atmosphere felt different from the last time he'd been in the foyer. There was a pressure in his ears as if he were underwater. Right off he noticed Takeshi was gone and his backpack had been overturned, spilling its contents all over the base of the staircase. Satō and Nikoru were gone as well.

"Takeshi?" Hiroshi called. He expected something from that terrified twit, but received no answer. "Nikoru, stop messing around!" Still nothing. "Nikoru, I swear, if this is another one of your immature pranks—"

The sound of a closing door interrupted him. Satō appeared on the other side of the staircase with a camera and a small yellow flashlight. His hair was sticking up everywhere, as if he had been in a rumble. "Were you yelling?" He asked innocently

Hiroshi narrowed his eyes and pushed up his sliding glasses. "Yes, I was. Where are Nikoru and Takeshi?"

Satō shrugged. "Nikoru went off somewhere with her glowsticks and I have no idea where Takeshi went." Noticing the equipment on the floor he sighed and stormed over to clean it up. "He was supposed to be charging the recorders," he muttered as he stuffed everything back into the pack. Hiroshi didn't know if he believed any of that. Satō was unreliable in his eyes.

"Well, where did you see them last?" He asked suspiciously.

Satō grunted and slammed the pack down on a step, plugging a few of the cords into the outlet. "Nikoru was off down that hallway over there." He gestured off to the left. "Knowing her, she's fine." Hiroshi's skin tingled. Knowing her? The nerve of this prestigious, stuck-up brat! "And Takeshi…" Satō trailed off, either concentrating on the equipment or refusing to say any more.

What was the point in talking to that idiot? He knew nothing. Hiroshi watched him intently, trying to intimidate him.

Satō looked back up and sat on the steps while his camera charged. "So Hiroshi, did you find anything? I can't imagine that entire hallway was empty."

"Of course I found something," Hiroshi snapped. He pulled the plate shard from his pocket and held it out for Satō to view. "Your 'monster' was a plate shard."

"How convenient…" Satō mumbled sarcastically.

Hiroshi felt some satisfaction. He hoped that moron felt stupid now. "Isn't it?" He said as he fit the shard back in his pocket. "How incredibly stupid you must feel."

Satō shrugged and shook his head. "No, I knew it couldn't be anything too serious."

"Oh, of course you did," Hiroshi growled irritably. "Because you obviously know everything."

Satō glared at him. "No, I don't, all right? Why are you so snobby?" Hiroshi was taken aback; Satō was calling him snobby? "Is it because I'm way more popular than you'll ever be? Because I'm better than you? Because I'll always be smarter?"

"No, I have a problem with how translucent you are," Hiroshi spat. "Well, I'll give you points for being such a fantastic actor, but I see right through you, Satō."

A dark glint entered Satō's eye. Yes, Hiroshi could see right through him. He was a flake; he pretended to be fabulous as a trick to manipulate people into doing his will. Hiroshi had encountered his kind before. Satō was untrustworthy, playing himself up to be some wonderful man. But he was a player and a poser, Hiroshi knew.

And he had his slimy, manipulative eyes on Nikoru. He didn't actually love her. He probably didn't even feel a thing for her. That's how he treated every girl.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Satō ground out through his tight jaw. "You think you know everything, you hypocrite."

"No," Hiroshi corrected, "I just know what you're about. You're manipulative. You're fake, I know that."

Satō tilted his head. "Oh, I'm fake, am I? Wow, Hiroshi, you're so clever! I give you a point for being an asshole."

"I don't need your points," Hiroshi growled. "I've seen you, Satō. What you do to people. Bullying kids for their money, dating one girl and declaring you love her, then you sneak off to the movie theater with another girl. Do you take pleasure in ruining people's lives? Like your parents? I've seen the bruises you left on them the day before teacher conferences. Do you forget I live right behind you? You nearly broke your father's ankle pushing him down the—"

Satō flew over and slammed his fist right into the side of Hiroshi's head. The dorky round glasses flew from his face and collided against a wall. Hiroshi caught himself before he barreled into the floor. He had seen the fire in Satō's eyes before he stood, but this was unexpected. He felt like one of those kids Satō bludgeoned in the shadows and in a way it ashamed him.

"You think you're so smart, using smartass words like that as if you have a clue." Satō's pupils were swimming in a pool of black. "What the fuck gives you the right to say that kind of shit to me, eh? What the fuck do you know? You don't even know me!"

"You're a manipulative bully who schemes on people you deem under you!" Hiroshi snapped. Satō looked incredulous. "Yes, I know exactly who you are, Satō!" His name sounded like a curse and that pleased Hiroshi. "You didn't expect anyone to know about you, did you? But I happen to notice things and I can see how tense others are around you. The only reason you aren't in jail is because your parents cover up your crimes. They love you, yet you've been so spoiled your entire life, you think you're entitled to rule over everyone—even your own parents! You're cruel and you don't even realize it!"

"Oh, shut up, four eyes, no one gives a fuck about what you think!" Satō attempted to stomp his foot, but Hiroshi withdrew it just in time and quickly stood. The floor rumbled. "That's a bunch of bull, asswipe! You've got nothing on me!"

"Then why did you just punch me?" Hiroshi countered, rivaling his anger. They stood in silence for a moment as Satō processed what had happened. "You've been found out. Give up the charade." And Hiroshi backed away to retrieve his glasses, never taking his eyes off Satō. "Leave those kids alone and try to act civilized."

Triumphant, Hiroshi glided past him. He would go find Nikoru and explain to her that her so called 'friend' needed to change. That was a brilliant idea! Why hadn't he thought of that before? She'd be willing to help if it were worded that way.

You idiot, Hiroshi! He thought to himself. You should have thought of this before! It would have saved you the trouble of anger management…

"Nikoru doesn't like you."

Hiroshi paused. Nikoru what? Was this another one of his little games? "What was that?"

Satō turned half way with a hostile glint in his eyes. It was almost murderous. "You heard me, wise guy. You didn't think anyone knew about you? Well I notice things, too, and I know you're in love with Nik—"

"WHAT!" Hiroshi spun around. "What—what gave you that idea?"

"Coz it's obvious! You didn't think someone would notice?" Hiroshi grimaced as his own words were used against him. "And she knows and she doesn't like you." Satō could be desperate in dire situations. Anyone could be. Hiroshi wanted to believe that but it didn't stop the sharp tug on his heart. "She's interested in me, that's why she talks to me and avoids Naoki because she knows he wants to hook you two up. Besides, she'd look better with me, anyway. Everyone knows that." He smiled as if he had won the fight. "Even you know that."

Hiroshi snorted defiantly. He wouldn't allow himself to believe that bullshit. "You are quite desperate, Satō, and I have one more thing to say to you: Fuck you and fuck your fantasies."

Satō's jaw dropped; he had never heard Hiroshi cuss. Someone should have filmed that for Youtube.

Satisfied, Hiroshi stormed down the left hallway. Satō watched him leave, burning and itching to hit him again. But his head was pounding and his legs were jelly. He felt faint; prissy boys like him were never ever told off like that. That had been unbelievable.

That had been overwhelmingly effective.

The dark pools in Satō's eyes were flooded with grief and fury. He would get revenge on Hiroshi Yoshida if it were the last thing he'd to.

Xxx

Jeez, sorry 'bout that. Fixin' up chapters is super effective!

No, anyway, you guys know it's the holiday—the most wonderful time of the year besides Halloween and my birthday—so I have an excuse!

…a really sucky one, but it's an excuse.

-Cappy