Bathroom mystery

Chapter 1

The day felt like any other. Just a normal Tuesday, gray and drizzling outside, the kind of weather that makes the classroom feel even more stifling. By fourth period, I couldn’t keep still, every second in my chair dragging. I glanced up at the clock, then over at Ms Lim, my English teacher, who was droning on about our homework.

I decided I needed a break. I raised my hand, murmuring something about the bathroom, and she nodded, waving me away with the slightest hint of impatience. I could feel the other students’ eyes on me as I slipped out.

The hallway was empty, and the echoes of my footsteps bounced off the lockers as I made my way to the restroom. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered faintly, buzzing in that annoying way they do, casting odd shadows over the pale green tiles and cracked ceiling.

As I pushed the bathroom door open, I felt an odd sense of tension, like the air was somehow heavier here. I took a step inside, and that’s when I noticed it, a slow, dark trickle spilling from under one of the closed stall doors.

My heart jolted, and I froze. I’d never seen so much blood in my life. The thick, red liquid snaked its way across the cracked tile, inching closer to where I stood, as if it were deliberately reaching for me. My breath caught in my throat, and the world seemed to narrow down to that horrifying sight. The smell hit me then, too, metallic and sharp, filling the air and mixing with the stale scent of disinfectant.

I thought about calling out to whoever was in the stall, but something held me back. It was like my instincts had kicked in, telling me to stay silent, to move away. I took one shaky step backward, then another, then bolted from the bathroom. I needed help, someone to explain what I’d just seen.

I ran straight back to Ms Lim’s classroom. She looked up as I burst through the door, and I told her, my voice trembling, about the blood. Her expression shifted from concern to irritation.

“You’re wasting class time with a prank?” she snapped, giving me a look of pure disappointment.

“It’s not a prank!” I insisted. “There’s blood all over the floor. I’m serious, Ms Lim!”

She sighed, clearly unconvinced but probably sensing my desperation, and followed me down the hall. Her shoes clacked against the floor, each step sharp and echoing. But as we entered the bathroom, I knew something was wrong.

The blood was gone. The floor was spotless, the stall door slightly ajar, revealing nothing but the clean, white tiles inside. I stared, feeling my cheeks flush as a hot wave of embarrassment washed over me. I’d been so sure. My mind raced for explanations, but nothing made sense.

Ms Lim’s expression hardened. “This isn’t funny. If you need attention, there are better ways to get it than making up stories like this. You’re wasting everyone’s time, and I’m not in the mood.”

“But I saw it,” I whispered, feeling my voice waver.

She just shook her head, turning back toward the hallway without another word. My face burned as I followed her back to class, the weight of everyone’s stares pressing down on me as I took my seat.

But as the day went on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. I knew what I’d seen. And I knew that somehow, there was an explanation I couldn’t see yet.

Chapter 2

The next morning, the school was buzzing with whispers and rumors. I hadn’t even made it to my locker when I felt it, that electric tension in the air, like something was about to break.

I soon found out why.

A crowd had gathered in the main hallway, students and teachers whispering in low voices, their expressions horrified. I pushed through the crowd, feeling my heart pound faster with each step. And then I saw her.

Ms Lim. Lying in the middle of the hallway in a pool of blood. Her body was sprawled out in the exact spot I’d seen the blood the day before. The dark red stain had already soaked into the carpet tiles, and her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her face twisted in an expression I couldn’t quite describe. Shock, maybe, or something darker.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Mr Miller, one of the Mathematics teachers, pulling me back. He gave me a sharp look, his gaze lingering as though he knew something. The hall was soon filled with police, asking questions, corralling students and teachers, trying to make sense of it all.

Mr Miller pulled me aside. “Is she your teacher?”

“Yes,” I stammered, unable to tear my eyes away from Ms Lim’s body as the paramedics placed her on a stretcher. “She was… my English teacher.”

“You’re sure you didn’t see anything unusual yesterday?” he asked, his tone almost too casual.

“I did,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “I saw blood. In the bathroom, spilling out from under a stall. But when I went back with her… it was gone.”

Mr Miller raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you saw blood, but it vanished?”

“Yes,” I replied, feeling the weight of his skepticism. “It sounds crazy, but I’m telling the truth.”

Mr Miller nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “I see. Well, let’s hope you’re right.”

I knew he didn’t believe me. He didn’t need to say it. And as I walked away, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, suspicion flickering in their gazes.

Chapter 3

I hardly slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ms Lim’s body, the way her lifeless eyes had stared at the ceiling, the blood pooling beneath her like a crimson shadow. When I did finally drift off, my dreams were a jumbled mess of blood, whispers, and that strange smell of metal.

The next day, I walked into school feeling hollow, trying to ignore the wary stares that seemed to follow me everywhere. I could tell that my classmates were talking about me behind my back. Even the teachers seemed uneasy, glancing at me with thinly veiled suspicion.

But the worst was yet to come.

By lunch, another body had been found. This time, Mr Miller, the math teacher who’d questioned me the day before. His body was discovered in the very bathroom stall where I’d first seen the blood. He had been stabbed multiple times, and his hands were bloody, his fingers scratched raw from carving words into the stall wall. “It’s coming for you.”

I couldn’t look at his face. His eyes were wide open, staring at something only he could see, frozen in terror.

The whispers grew louder. No one dared to accuse me openly, but I could feel the suspicion hanging in the air. Two deaths, both somehow tied to me. It was as if a dark cloud had settled over my life, suffocating and inescapable.

The police were called. They took me to the station for questioning. The detective asked me the same questions over and over, his voice low and relentless. But I had no answers. All I could say was that I didn’t know anything, that I hadn’t seen anything. After hours of interrogation, they let me go, but I could feel their doubts lingering.

Chapter 4

After that second death, things only got worse. Every time I entered a room, conversations would stop. Teachers would exchange glances, lowering their voices when I walked by. It was as if everyone believed I was cursed, that being around me was enough to bring some kind of dark fate upon them.

I started seeing things too small, almost unnoticeable things at first. Shadows that moved when there was no one there, faint whispers that seemed to follow me, murmuring words I couldn’t quite make out. At night, when I tried to sleep, I’d hear footsteps outside my window, slow and deliberate, like someone pacing back and forth, waiting for me to look.

And then there were the mirrors.

Every time I looked into one, my reflection seemed just a little… off. At first, I thought it was my imagination. The stress, the lack of sleep. But it grew worse. My reflection would linger for a second too long after I looked away, its eyes dark and piercing. Sometimes, it would even smile back at me, a twisted grin that didn’t match the expression on my face.

I tried to tell Julia, my best friend, about it. She listened, her face pale and tense, but when I was done, she pulled away, her eyes darting to the shadows. She stopped coming to school after that, and a few days later, I heard the news. Julia had been found dead at home. Her parents had found her in the bathroom, blood pooling from under the door, just like in that stall.

Panic gripped the town. The deaths were getting closer, more personal, and I felt trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape. It was as if I were the center of some dark storm, every death a fresh reminder that there was no way out.

I spent hours pacing my room, staring at my reflection, trying to understand. But no matter how hard I tried, I kept coming back to one thought: the blood, the stall, and the haunting whispers that followed me everywhere I went.

Deep down, I knew that whatever was happening, it wasn’t over. And I was the one it wanted.

Author's Note

This is a really, really short story. I wrote it because I was bored. And yes, the ending is supposed to be a cliffhanger.

Reviews

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

i really liked it. the tension was kept high and the feeling of mystery was maintained. it reminded me of Scream and the j-horror film Another.
i don't know if you plan to edit this story, but in case you do later, i'd like to give you a couple of points. one: the title could be more horror-esque.
and at the end of this sentence in chapter 1: "As I pushed the bathroom door open... I noticed it, a slow, dark trickle spilling from under one of the closed stall doors.
i'd like to add one sentence: "Blood." i think that one word would clarify to the reader what's being shown, and throws a surprise jab.
it is a clever horror story, i liked your writing style, and i hope you do look at it again and maybe work on developing it.

[Alice]

Thanks for feedback!