Increasingly Critical (Chapter 8)
Image created using Meta Ai on WhatsApp.
Ustadz Rafi's loud voice filled the room, reciting verse after verse nonstop. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but his eyes remained focused on Aris's pale body lying on the bed.
Under the bed, the whispers turned into roars—hoarse, painful, like dozens of people screaming at once. The air grew colder, and breaths seemed to emanate smoke.
Suddenly… CRASH! The mirror in the corner of the room cracked wide, and from the crack, pale fingers began to crawl out, trying to reach Aris. Pak Damar instinctively stepped back, but Ustadz Rafi raised his hand, splashing water from a small bottle onto the mirror.
A long scream rang out from within the mirror. The fingers burned as if on fire, then disappeared along with the shadows within.
(Another dimension)
The light from the crack in the iron door grew brighter, forcing the figures to retreat and disappear one by one. Aris began to move his body, but the eyeless nurse still stood before him.
The large syringe in her hand trembled, and she raised it high, ready to plunge it into Aris's neck. But before the needle could touch his skin, an invisible hand pulled Aris backward—through the metal door—and he fell face down to the cold floor.
He coughed, and when he looked up… he was back in his boarding room. Ustadz Rafi stood over him, one hand on Aris's chest, the other holding a water bottle. Aris's body writhed violently, as if someone were pulling him from two directions at once. Mr. Damar held onto Aris's legs to keep him from falling off the bed.
Suddenly… another voice came from Aris's mouth—not his own—a hoarse, female voice mixed with a low growl. "You won't be able to take her… she… is ours!"
Aris's eyes widened, his entire eyeball now white. Ustadz Rafi was undeterred; he pressed the water bottle to Aris's lips, forcing a sip in. Aris let out a long scream. The lights went out completely. Only Ustadz Rafi's prayers could be heard in the darkness.
(Another dimension)
The nun stood behind the now-closed iron door, her fingers scratching the metal as she smiled and said, "You may go now... but remember... this hallway always has a way to take you back."
Her soft laughter echoed... and slowly faded, leaving an eerie silence. The lights came back on. Aris lay limp, his breathing heavy, but his eyes were starting to return to normal. Pak Damar held his shoulder, relieved but still trembling.
But when Ustadz Rafi turned to put away the water bottle, Pak Damar froze, staring at the floor beneath the bed. There were wet footprints... small... like those of a child... walking out of the room.
Pak Damar was stunned. The wet footprints were so clear... small, like those of a four- or five-year-old. The footprints led out from under Aris's bed, toward the door... and stopped right in front of the cracked mirror.
Ustadz Rafi turned his head, catching Mr. Damar's gaze. "Don't come near," he said quickly, his tone firm. "Those footprints don't belong to humans."
Mr. Damar shuddered. The water dripping from the footprints slowly turned red, seeping onto the floor like thin blood. A fishy odor began to fill the room.
Aris lay still weak, his eyes half-open. But suddenly, he whispered softly, almost inaudibly, "That child... is still here."
(Another dimension)
The hospital hallway was dark. At the end of the hallway, an old fluorescent light flickered. A small child stood with his back to Aris, wearing a worn white patient gown. His hair was wet, dripping water onto the floor.
The child began to laugh softly, his voice strangely high-pitched, then slowly turned around. His eyes were blank, his mouth gaping wide... so wide... that his jaw looked broken. He pointed at Aris and said, "Play... with me..."
In the real world, Ustadz Rafi began reciting the verses again. The lights flickered again. The cracked mirror reflected something—the image of a small child standing directly behind Ustadz Rafi, even though there was no one else in the room.
Mr. Damar immediately pointed to the mirror. “Ustadz! Behind!”
But before Ustadz Rafi could turn around, a small, pale hand penetrated the mirror's surface and tugged at the hem of Ustadz Rafi's sarong. The child's laughter filled the room, loud and deafening.
The water from the wet footprints now flowed rapidly under Aris's bed, forming a puddle. From this puddle, small bubbles emerged... then burst, emitting a putrid odor like an old corpse.
Ustadz Rafi splashed water on the mirror while reciting verses. The child's image screamed, retreating into the darkness. But before disappearing, it looked directly at Aris and whispered from within the mirror, “Tomorrow night... it's my turn.”
Ustadz Rafi looked at Mr. Damar seriously, "We have to move him tonight. Otherwise... they'll come get him."
Mr. Damar swallowed. "Moving him where, Ustadz?"
Ustadz Rafi didn't answer immediately. He just glanced at the window, and outside, in the dark courtyard of the boarding house, he saw the figure of a small child in a white dress standing silently, staring at their room.
To be continued.