Murder Hotel Escape: The Killer's Mansion

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The Murder Hotel Escape: Murder Mansion. In truth, this mansion wasn't a haunted house at all. It was a murder mansion meticulously designed by a killer for systematic slaughter. Disguising and operating it as a hotel was mere camouflage to hide the killings from the outside world—and a ploy to lure in innocent victims.

The fortunate part was that we'd had ample time to investigate this Murder Hotel Ghost Story beforehand. If we'd gone in blind, we would've died on the first try without fail. Unlike other Ghost Stories, a Murder Hotel is crawling with traps engineered for ruthless efficiency in killing people.

In that sense, the Ghost Story striking at a fixed time during the courage test had actually worked in my favor. It gave me the chance to preload the mansion with counter-traps to combat it. Every trap in this Murder Hotel was now squarely in my palm.

I had a rough idea of how to crack the Ghost Story. A mansion once used by a killer but now abandoned. That meant any trap that got triggered once wouldn't reset. In other words, if we triggered every single ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠murder trap hidden in this place, the Murder Mansion would just become a broken-down relic of its former self—depleted of all its mechanisms.

Creak.

As we walked through the mansion, a strange sensation prickled at my toes. I'd stepped on something. At the same instant, the floorboard I'd trod on flipped open, revealing a pit trap that dropped straight to the basement.

It was doubtless a cunning setup to drag hotel guests soundlessly underground. But unfortunately for it, none of my group—including me—plummeted into the basement.

The floorboard had flipped, but it was reinforced with a broad layer of bracing on top. Worth wandering the mansion all night, probing every suspicious spot.

"Huh? Didn't you hear something just now? It sounded like a mechanism activating…."

"Haha, Miss Rozalia, what noise are you talking about? Must be your imagination."

"Hmm? I definitely heard something."

"Imagination."

Her instincts were oddly sharp today. I cut off Rozalia's insistence on the noise with a tone that brooked no argument. Fortunately, Aurora opened her mouth next, and Rozalia dropped her stubbornness.

"Anyway, I was so worried after hearing the rumors, but it's not as dangerous as I thought. The only real scare so far was when Mr. Allen broke that flower vase just now."

"Truth be told, Ghost Stories are all like that. Most are just everyday events exaggerated through gossip. And in some cases, they're outright fabrications with no basis in reality."

"W-well, of course I didn't actually believe in that Ghost Story."

"Haha, I know. You're a diligent and intelligent student, Miss Aurora."

"Y-you know about me?"

"Of course. Your enthusiastic participation in my Gift theory lectures left an impression."

By the time we headed toward the second checkpoint, Aurora seemed accustomed enough to wandering the ghost mansion—no, the murder mansion—to speak in a steadier voice. I matched her energy, engaging actively in the conversation.

One might think there was no room for chit-chat while exorcising a Ghost Story, but it was the opposite. Ghost Stories gain power the more they're known among people. That includes learning their true supernatural nature, but even simple spread as folklore—instilling fear—fuels them.

Compared to exposing their otherworldly essence, it was a drop in the bucket. Still, no reason to ignore it.

So while keeping an eye on the Ghost Story's assault, I also worked to soothe Aurora and Rozalia's fears with my words and actions. Luckily, I had plenty of cheerleaders in the group. Elaine and Rone were on my side.

"You know those stories like, 'I lay in bed before sleep and thought there was a ghost staring from the ceiling, but in the morning it was just a wood stain'? Ghost Stories are basically just distortions of natural phenomena through human perception—products of the imagination."

"Oh, I've heard something like that! Um… what was it? Ghost Stories are born from psychological or humanistic elements…?"

"In other words, you two see Ghost Stories as a branch of folklore? Something whose origins can be logically analyzed in a literary context?"

"Exactly."

"Y-yes? Oh, uh, yeah, that sounds right."

"Hmm. I've never thought of it that way, but viewing it from that angle makes several unnatural aspects of this murder mansion pop out—things I hadn't noticed before."

Rozalia's cheerleading was a bit iffy at times, but Aurora seemed to be overcoming her fear of the murder mansion. The problem wasn't her, though.

"No! The murder mansion exists! A lady I know heard it was real from someone she knows!!"

Rozalia, denying everything outright.

"...A 'friend of a friend' has zero credibility."

"No. I believe it. Because there's no way she would lie to me!! So this murder mansion isn't some baseless rumor—it's the actual stage of a infamous serial killer!"

Unlike Aurora, Rozalia showed no sign of abandoning her conviction that this was a real murder mansion.

"No! The odds are zero. I've already spotted multiple suspicious points in the Murder Hotel story myself."

"Of course it's suspicious! It's a Murder Hotel!"

"Not suspicious in that way…. Suppose a killer really renovated a hotel for murders."

"It's not a supposition—it's fact!"

"A-alright! Let's assume that for now! But why would a Murder Hotel be here? Objectively, Everlight Academy's grounds are the worst spot for murders."

"Worst how?"

This Murder Hotel Ghost Story had massive plot holes galore.

"Everlight Academy students are all exceptional talents, and many come from powerful bloodlines. Killing them isn't like offing tourists in a scenic spot or travelers in a remote area. It could bring national power down on you."

"But Everlight Academy is on an isolated island cut off from the outside. Doesn't that favor the killer? Meaning he had advantages worth the risks!"

"No! The exact opposite. In an isolated environment, murder favors the killer only if he can wipe out everyone inside. But for systematic, repeated killings, it's highly unsuitable. A closed space traps victims, sure—but it traps the killer too. The longer a serial killing spree goes, the more it backfires. Still gonna ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠insist this is a Murder Hotel, Miss Rozalia?"

"E-even if objectively it's unfit for a Murder Hotel, that's from a normal person's view, right? A madman acts madly—that's a madman! Judging a killer's logic from a sane perspective is the problem!"

"That's just you wanting to believe it so bad!"

Even after being logically crushed, Rozalia refused to yield. She wasn't a villain…. Not dumb, just excessively pure—or incapable of doubting people….

Exactly as her status window described. But ironically, Rozalia's rebuttal pierced the core.

Ghost Stories manifest not based on real-world plausibility, but how captivatingly people embrace them. The academy assault happened not because it was feasible, but because it was wished for.

Resentment was key. That was Ghost Story logic.

And in stark contrast, Aurora had swiftly spotted the Ghost Story's flaws. Impressive analytical skill. Tempted to recruit her for the club.

But recruitment could wait until after resolving the Ghost Story. Prioritizing members over exorcism would be putting the cart before the horse.

…

Dong— Dong—

Time hit the hour, and the grandfather clock in the mansion's center tolled. Simultaneously, a small door by its head swung open—or tried to—firing poison needles again. Well, it tried. The adhesive I'd used to seal it shut kept the door jammed, so all we heard was something launching inside the clock.

Poison needles again. So cliché.

There's a reason for clichés. You might wonder how anyone could scour a whole mansion for hidden traps, but the likely spots are always the same: poison darts in vases and clocks, collapsing floors dropping people to the basement, blades springing from wall seams, suspicious pipes leaking gas.

Terrifying novelties to this world, maybe. To me? Stale as yesterday's bread. A murder mansion without a killer was like a set meal missing the burger….

Pfshk!

"…Huh?"

"What's wrong?"

"Ah, nothing. It's fine."

"You've seemed off for a bit…."

"Imagination."

…Did that poison needle from the clock almost punch through the sealed door? I'd layered glue thick to stop even a tiny dart cold….

Did I mess up? The penetration felt stronger than before….

…

But my unease faded quickly. We cleared the first floor without further hitches.

With the breather, Aurora and Rozalia were back to bickering over nonsense.

"Tch. At your age, Miss Rozalia, you still believe childish Ghost Stories?"

"No! Ghost Stories are real! Brandon the baker! The misfortune letters—they all exist!"

"Sigh. Miss Rozalia, 'Brandon the baker'? No way a monster like that exists. If you met something that grotesque, anyone with a brain would sense the wrongness and run. Logically, no fool dies to Brandon, so the story's bunk!"

Ahem!

"Obviously, Brandon uses inexplicable powers to mind-control victims the instant they're near!! Inevitable!"

Yeah. Inevitable.

"What even is this 'inexplicable power'?"

"It's inexplicable because it's inexplicable! That's why we call it that—you can't explain it, or it stops being inexplicable. Don't you get it? Pfft!"

"Ugh. Annoying."

"Same reason the murder mansion's real. Even now, this place hides the killer's brutal traps, dormant underground, awaiting fresh innocent blood!"

"Ah. Sure. Whatever."

Half-listening to their silly spat, we reached the second-floor checkpoint. Let's see… next trap location….

"Hmph! You won't believe me to the end! Fine—example time! That wall over there! Suspicious seam between rooms, right? Bet it's rigged so blades or spears shoot out when someone passes!"

Coincidence? She'd pointed right at a spot we'd pre-scouted as prime trap territory.

Click.

Aurora and Rozalia stepped past, triggering a faint mechanism whir.

No biggie. We'd plated it with thin steel and wallpapered over seamlessly….

Bang!!

Huh? Bang!!

No way…. Kaboom!!!

"Damn it! Get down!!"

"Kyaaah!!" "Kyaah!!"

The moment I sensed danger, I lunged, tackling Aurora and Rozalia. They screamed at the sudden pile-on, but better than being shredded by the blades bursting from the wall.

I felt serrated edges—having pierced the steel—graze my lower back, narrowly missing.

"Mr. Allen!!"

"Are you okay!?"

Elaine and Rone rushed over in panic.

"…Lucky. Just a graze."

"That's a relief, but… why'd the steel-plated wall give? The earlier traps weren't this strong."

"Something's wrong. No one's onto the Ghost Story, yet the power spiked like this."

"No. It wasn't sudden. The traps have been strengthening gradually. We didn't notice because they couldn't breach our barriers—until now, when the force overwhelmed them and hit explosively."

"So something's been boosting the Ghost Story this whole time? What…."

I'm more curious. Did someone catch on to the Ghost Story's truth? Or did the Murder Hotel tale go viral in this short span?

But for meaningful amplification, it'd take more than one or two people. At least ten for this level—worth of 'cognition.'

Ah. No. Not necessarily.

"…I have a guess."

I told Elaine that, then stood. Approaching the still-clinging, trembling duo—Aurora and Rozalia. Well, only one mattered.

"W-what just happened? You seem to know something…."

"Sorry. I'll explain later."

Aurora asked fearfully, but I looked past her.

"Rozalia."

"Ah, Mr. Allen! That saw blade from the wall…!!"

"No need to freak. You called it."

"W-well, yeah, but…."

"One question first."

"W-what is it…?"

"Rozalia. Your Gift. What is it?"

"Huh? My Gift? Why ask that suddenly…."

"Important. Answer me."

"I'm not a Gift holder."

Figures she doesn't know. Common enough—Gift users unaware of their own powers.

But not here.

Her status floating before me. Normal non-Gift users show [Gift: ──]. Even Ghost Stories—non-normal entities—don't get '──' or '???'. Hers was definitely '???'. Meaning she had one, just unidentified.

Combining her status description with the situation led to one conclusion.

"Your Gift. It influences minds. That bright personality? The Gift's doing."

Flash!

Her answer wasn't needed. The updated status confirmed I was right.

Why was the mansion's Ghost Story growing stronger? Ghost Stories amplify with spread. But the reverse didn't hold—not always.

Like if one person held resentment equivalent to many.

Her very existence was an amplifier boosting the Ghost Story's power.