The School at Midnight

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Feb 20, 2025

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It started as a simple dare. Jake, Mia, and Alex had heard the rumors—stories of strange noises echoing through the hallways of their school after dark. Some students swore they had seen shadowy figures moving in the windows. No one really believed the tales, but that night, the three friends decided to find out for themselves.

Sneaking into the school at midnight was easier than they expected. The side door, known to never lock properly, let them in without a sound. The air inside was heavy, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

“Alright, we’re in,” Jake whispered. “Let’s just take a quick walk around and—”

A sudden bang echoed through the hallway. The trio froze.

“That… wasn’t one of us,” Mia whispered.

Slowly, they followed the sound toward the old wing of the school, where unused classrooms stood forgotten. As they stepped inside one, the overhead lights flickered to life on their own. Desks were perfectly arranged, books stacked neatly, as if class was still in session.

And then, the chalk moved.

It scraped against the board, writing words in jagged, unsteady strokes: “TAKE YOUR SEATS.”

Alex swallowed hard. “Yeah, nope. I’m out.”

But before they could run, a faint whisper filled the air. It wasn’t coming from any of them.

“We have… a lesson to finish…”

The room grew colder. Shapes flickered at the edges of their vision—transparent figures sitting at desks, their hollow eyes fixed on the three intruders.

Mia’s breath hitched. “They’re… students.”

Jake took a step forward. “What do you want?”

The chalk scratched again: “THE TEST. YOU MUST COMPLETE IT.”

A yellowed worksheet appeared on each desk. The questions were impossible—ancient riddles, mathematical puzzles that made no sense. But one thing was clear: they had to solve them.

With trembling hands, they got to work. Every wrong answer made the whispers grow louder, the shadows creep closer. But as they solved each problem, the figures began to fade, their ghostly murmurs turning into soft sighs of relief.

Finally, the last question was answered. The classroom fell silent. The chalk wrote one final message: “CLASS DISMISSED.”

The lights shut off. When they turned back on, the room was empty. No ghosts. No worksheets. Nothing.

The three friends ran out of the school, breathless and shaken. They never spoke of that night again—but every time they passed the old wing, they felt the eyes of unseen students watching, waiting for the next class to begin.

MORAL: Some lessons are never truly over… and some dares should never be taken.