Suddenly, the hallway lights flickered. A soft, ghostly moan echoed from the third floor. Pak Budi’s flashlight beam darted toward the source, catching the silhouette of Sherly’s sheet as she glided past, her feet barely touching the ground. The fog machine hissed, and the speaker crackled with a whispered chant: “…toket… jilmek… doi…”. Pak Budi froze, his heart pounding. He called out, “Siapa di sana?!” but only his own voice answered. The friends, concealed behind a decorative column, tried to suppress their giggles. Rizky whispered into his walkie‑talkie, “Now, Sherly, pull the sheet back!”