Alice looked down at the apple in her hand. It was still warm, as if it had been plucked straight from a tree—or worse, just sat in that grotesque woman's palms too long.
"So... are we supposed to eat this?" she asked, her voice soft, unsure, almost childlike.
Harper made a face, holding her apple as far away from her as possible.
"I don't even wanna think about eating this," she muttered under her breath. "She probably touched it with those gross, gooey hands—ugh."
"Keep your voice down," Ivy warned in a whisper, glancing toward the hallway.
She leaned in slightly, speaking low and firm.
"We have to. We need to listen to everything she says. And if I had to guess..."
She paused, calculating, tapping the table again.
"...after lunch, she might talk to us. Maybe even about the exit. There's a chance she could help us find it."
Nathan frowned slightly.
"So we just sit here and wait? Be polite? Play along?"
Ivy nodded.
"Exactly. The note in the apple bowl wasn't a warning from someone else. It was for us. A direct instruction."
She looked at each of them seriously.
"We can't laugh at her. No matter what she does. No matter how weird she gets."
There was a short silence.
Nathan exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the apple."Alright… understood."
Alice sniffed the apple cautiously."It actually smells kind of good, though," she whispered."Like… really sweet. I mean, gross context aside."
Harper shook her head."You're braver than me. If I bite this and find anything weird inside, I'm done."
Nathan chuckled quietly, catching himself."Careful, Harper. That kind of attitude might get us hunted."
"Yeah, well..." Harper stared down at the apple like it might bite her first."I'd rather get hunted than poisoned."
Ivy sighed, rubbing her temple."We just need to stay calm. Be respectful. Do exactly what she asks and don't give her a reason to be upset. She's not attacking us. Yet."
Alice leaned against Harper a little, seeking comfort.
"I hope this lunch doesn't last long..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alice was the first to bite.
Crunch.
The sound echoed unnaturally loud through the quiet room, like glass breaking in a cathedral. Her jaw moved slowly, and her eyes drifted shut for just a moment.
"Mmm... it's sweet," she murmured, her voice soft, distant.
Nathan hesitated, watching her face. Then, silently, he took a bite.
Crunch.
His shoulders dropped slightly, like someone had just taken a heavy backpack off his back. A quiet exhale escaped his nose.
Ivy followed next—cautious, always analyzing. She took only a small bite.
But the effect was immediate.
She blinked, looked down at the apple in her hand, and then around the room—her movements just a second slower than before. A strange calmness began to settle over her features.
Nathan blinked as well, the color in his face softening.
"...Is it just me, or does everything feel... weirdly calm all of a sudden?" he muttered, almost to himself.
Alice giggled faintly—barely audible—as she finished her apple without even noticing.
Harper, the only one untouched by the fruit, stared at them with growing unease.
"Wait—what's going on?" she said, holding her apple like it was some kind of cursed relic.
"Why do you all look... different? Are you okay?"
Ivy rubbed her temple.
"Something's... not right," she said, slower than usual.
"It's like... my brain can't hold on to the urgency. Like my thoughts are—slipping."
"Exactly," Nathan added, looking at his hands.
"It's like being mildly sedated... everything's just..."
He trailed off, unable to find the word.
Harper stood up, gripping her apple tight but not biting.
"That's it. I'm not eating this. There's something in them—something messing with you guys."
She looked around, panic rising in her chest.
"Alice? Are you even listening?"
Alice slowly turned to Harper, her eyes heavy-lidded, dreamy.
"It's okay, Harper... it's really good," she said in a daze.
Harper recoiled slightly.
"Okay—nope. Nope. This is messed up."
Ivy blinked hard, trying to force herself back into focus.
"We were too careless. The apples aren't just sweet... they're designed to calm us down. Maybe even more."
Nathan was staring at the half-eaten fruit in his hand.
"It's like... it's making us vulnerable. Emotionally. Mentally."
Harper's grip tightened on the apple as she glared toward the kitchen.
"And that thing is back there cooking us lunch?" she hissed. "Yeah. No way this ends well."
The sound of slow, dragging footsteps returned—soft, deliberate, echoing off the walls of the quiet hall like a countdown. Nathan's head snapped toward the doorway.
"Shit," he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"She's coming back—she's coming back—"
He shot up from the chair with a jolt, knocking his knee against the table. The apple rolled and thudded onto the floor.
Ivy followed quickly, her composure cracking as she stood. Her fingers trembled against the edge of the table.
"Act natural—no, wait—too late," she mumbled, trying to suppress the rising dread in her chest.
Harper's survival instinct kicked in hard. She rushed to Nathan's side, grabbing Alice's wrist and yanking her up from the chair.
"Come on—snap out of it!" she whispered.
Alice stumbled, blinking as Harper pulled her upright. Her voice was distant but dreamy, soft and slow:
"Mmm... are we playing musical chairs now?"
She gave a lazy smile.
"I love games."
Nathan glanced at her, panic in his eyes.
"Alice, focus. She's back."
And then—
The old woman entered.
She stood in the doorway, her face contorted in a grotesque fusion of confusion and fury. Her skin sagged and folded like melted wax. The wrinkles had deepened, warping the features of her face. Her eyes, once clouded and distant, were now sharp and twitching. Her cheeks burned red, the veins beneath her skin pulsing with a sickly hue.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
But the tone—it wasn't childlike anymore. It was deeper, more solid. Like something else had grabbed the wheel inside her.
Her brows sank low over her bloodshot eyes, but her mouth didn't follow—her lips twitched into a smile not born from joy but from some grotesque reflex. It was an unnatural grin, as if the muscles in her face had a mind of their own.
"Why did you all stand up so suddenly?"
The room fell silent for a second.
Nathan clenched his fists. His mouth moved before his brain could stop him.
"What did you put in those apples?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.
The old woman's eyes locked on him.
She tilted her head—too far, unnaturally far—and her voice softened into something syrupy and broken.
"What do you mean, dear? I just wanted you to feel... safe."
And then, twitch.
Her lips stretched wider. Skin near her mouth cracked as the smile deepened. The raw twitching continued—tiny muscle spasms that gave her the appearance of someone trying to resist their own face.
Her voice warbled like two radio stations bleeding into each other—one friendly, one wrong.
"Everyone loves the apples here…"
The tone dipped—deeper.
"Everyone."
When the old woman whispered that final word—"Everyone"—something shifted in the room.
"Pfft—!"
A snort broke the silence.
"HAH! Hahaha!"
A sweet, high-pitched laugh erupted, cutting through the thick air like a knife.
It came from right beside Harper.
Alice.
She was laughing. Loud, innocent, delighted laughter spilling out of her like it couldn't be helped.
"She sounds so—" Alice tried to speak between giggles, "so funny!"
The room froze.
Nathan, Ivy, and Harper all turned to her in horror. Their faces pale, eyes wide with disbelief.
"A-Alice?" Ivy stammered, her voice thin with dread.
But Alice just kept laughing, her shoulders bouncing with each breath. "What?" she chirped, confused but still giggling, like she'd just heard a great joke no one else got.
No one responded.
Slowly, all their heads turned to face the front again.
To the old woman.
She was still standing there. Staring.
Her face was—
Neutral.
No smile. No frown.
No twitch.
No motion.
Just cold, deadpan stillness.
Lips sealed in a tight, unreadable line.
Eyes fixed on Alice.
She didn't blink.
She didn't breathe.
She just watched.
And in that endless, suffocating pause, something far worse than anger began to stir.
Whatever was mixed into the apples…
It had taken full effect on Alice.
She wasn't just giggling anymore—she was gone.
High. Light-headed. Giddy beyond reason.
Completely immersed in whatever chemical joy had hijacked her brain.
She laughed again.
Bright. Innocent. Detached from the terror in the room.
And suddenly, the note made perfect sense.
"Do not laugh at her actions, no matter how funny."
The apples were designed to make them laugh.
The warning wasn't random.
It wasn't from another team.
It was an instruction.
One they failed to follow.
Alice had eaten an entire apple.
The others had only taken a bite—just enough to feel it before it wore off.
But for Alice... it had sunk its claws deep.
She had laughed.
And now—
It was too late.
Something shifted in the air.
Heavy. Cold. Ancient.
The old woman didn't move.
But something else had.
The rules had been broken.
And with that—
The Hunt
will
Begin.