It started with a dare.
A simple one, made under a sun that burned a little too bright for fall, in a schoolyard that never quite stopped whispering when the teachers weren't looking.
Wellspring Middle School, home of scuffed sneakers, forgotten math homework, and the kind of rumors that made the rounds fast—especially when they involved something cursed.
“They say if you play tag here at 3:33 p.m.,” said Darren, chewing nervously on his hoodie string, “and if someone’s ‘It’ touches you while your shadow is facing the old gym... something follows you home.”
His best friend, Casey, rolled her eyes. “That’s just one of those ghost stories. Like Bloody Mary for schoolyards.”
“But Reina said she’d try it,” Darren added, motioning toward the girl crouched near the blacktop, tying her shoelaces like she was preparing for a race.
Reina Min.
Thirteen. Wild hair. Loud opinions. The kind of kid who always climbed too high, swung too far, and dared the world to try and stop her.
She stood up and smirked. “Of course I said I’d try it. You two are all bark and no tag.”
“You’re going to regret it,” Casey warned, hugging her arms close.
“Yeah?” Reina grinned. “Only if I lose.”
They gathered on the old blacktop. The school bell had long since rung, and the sun was dipping into that eerie golden hue where shadows stretched a little too far.
The playground was quiet—too quiet.
The jungle gym looked skeletal. The swings creaked even though there was no wind. And the asphalt beneath their feet felt colder than it should have, like it remembered too much.
A single chalk circle had been drawn near the edge of the blacktop. Not a perfect circle, but wide enough for three kids to stand inside.
At the top of the circle, someone—probably Reina—had written in thick, red chalk:
TAG ME IF YOU DARE
—G.M.
Darren stared. “You didn’t write that… did you?”
Reina blinked. “Nope. Not mine.”
Casey was already backing away. “I don’t like this.”
“Oh come on,” Reina said. “Let’s just play one round. I’ll be ‘It.’ You two run. If I don’t catch either of you in five minutes, I lose. Easy.”
“You’re not supposed to play with three people,” Darren muttered.
Reina tapped her foot three times and smiled.
“You’re just scared.”
The game began at 3:33 p.m.
Reina turned her back, counted to ten, and shouted, “Ready or not!”
Casey and Darren scattered.
They ran between the swings, around the benches, behind the crumbling gym wall.
Reina chased them, laughing loudly. She was fast—too fast. Like her legs had caught fire. Her shoes barely made a sound. Her laughter grew sharper, higher, like a knife being dragged across a violin string.
At 3:34, Reina tagged Darren.
He froze.
His eyes went wide.
He whispered something—something too soft to hear.
Then he fell.
Hard.
Casey screamed.
Reina stood over Darren.
Her smile didn’t fade.
Her hands were shaking.
And her shadow… kept moving even after she stopped.
Part II – The Possession
Reina’s heart pounded.
Not from running.
Not from fear.
But from something darker… something deeper.
Her hand still tingled from tagging Darren. A shock had run through her arm the moment she touched him—like a pulse of electricity, but cold. Wrong. Too alive.
Darren hadn’t moved.
He was on his knees now, his eyes wide, his mouth trying to speak. But no sound came out.
“Darren?” Reina whispered.
She took a step forward.
Then stopped.
Because Darren’s shadow moved before he did.
And when it did, her own shadow changed shape.
It grew.
Stretched.
Twisted.
Her legs buckled. Her breath caught.
And then—something entered her.
It didn’t knock. It didn’t ask.
It crawled in through the tag. A slithering presence that filled her head with static and her spine with ice. Her thoughts were still hers—but now, she heard another voice, breathing at the edge of her consciousness.
“You’re it.”
Reina blinked—and the playground had changed.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
It was no longer the schoolyard.
Not entirely.
The colors were off. The sky had dimmed to an unnatural violet. The jungle gym had become a cage of twisted metal. The chalk circle glowed faintly, like a warning sign in a language no one taught.
Reina turned to Casey.
She opened her mouth to say something—to beg for help, maybe.
But her mouth didn’t move the way she wanted.
And the voice that came out wasn’t hers.
"RUN"
Casey did.
She screamed and sprinted toward the fence, sobbing, breath catching in her throat.
Behind her, Reina—no, the thing wearing Reina—laughed. The sound echoed across the playground like a warped tape.
“Tag… you’re it.
Now it’s your turn to scream.”
In a candle-lit operations room buried beneath the Sanctuary's main archive, Maya looked up from a whispering charm stone. The polished surface rippled like water, then flared red.
Tenchi leaned over her shoulder.
The words etched across the stone were jagged. Panicked.
“GAME 2 INITIATED: TAG”
HOST: ACTIVE POSSESSION DETECTED
ENTITY LEVEL: B-RANK (CHANGELING VARIANT)
Maya stood instantly.
“We’re late.”
Tenchi grabbed his blade. “Not too late.”
They moved together—silent, focused.
The air around them shimmered, distorting like heat rising off pavement.
The Layer was calling.
And they answered.
Part III – The Chaseling Chase
The world stuttered the moment Maya and Tenchi crossed the veil.
One blink and the real world vanished.
The familiar streets were gone.The sunset sky replaced with a sickly indigo dome, lit by a sun that never moved.The air felt charged, heavy with static and regret.
They stood at the edge of the corrupted playground—its features warped by the Forgotten Layer.
The jungle gym had turned into an iron tangle of limbs, twitching gently in the breeze.The swings creaked, but there was no wind.The hopscotch grid flickered with red chalk lines, etched with something that looked like teeth.
And in the center of it all—Reina.
Or what used to be her.
She moved in bursts now. Her limbs jerked like marionette strings being pulled by a drunk puppeteer. Her hair floated upward, as if underwater. Her feet made no sound.
But what chilled Maya most was her smile.
It was too wide. Too fixed. Too wrong.
Maya stepped forward slowly. “Reina?”
Reina snapped her head toward them. Her neck cracked at an unnatural angle.
"TAG"
She blurred.
One moment she was ten feet away.The next—inches from Maya.
Tenchi yanked Maya back just in time.
Reina’s fingers scraped across Maya’s cheek. Her nails were blackened. They left no wound, but Maya’s skin burned like frostbite.
“Split up,” Tenchi ordered. “Don’t let her touch you.”
Maya’s charm chain hissed to life in her hand.
“She’s fast.”
“She’s not Reina anymore,” Tenchi said.
“Then what is she?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“A Chaseling.”
The Chaseling was a rare variant.
Unlike other possession-type entities, it didn’t just ride a host.
It played through them—turning their body into a weapon and their voice into a lure.
And it always followed one rule:
“If you’re touched, you’re next.”
Reina lunged again.
Maya ducked under the swing set, flipping her chain upward. The flames looped around a rusted bar, cutting a line between her and the creature.
“Come on, Reina. I know you’re in there,” Maya shouted. “Fight it!”
The creature flinched.
Just for a second.
Long enough for Maya to see tears pooling in Reina’s eyes—even as the smile stayed frozen on her face.
“She’s resisting,” Maya said.
“Not for long,” Tenchi muttered, sprinting toward the anchor point.
He passed the jungle gym.
Through the twisted climbing bars.Over a seesaw that clicked endlessly back and forth, despite having no riders.And toward the sandbox.
It pulsed.
That’s where the anchor always hid—somewhere personal. Somewhere the child felt safe.
He dropped to one knee and brushed away sand with his glove.
There it was.
A broken name tag.
HELLO, MY NAME IS: REINA
Scratched over, beneath it in faint red ink: “It’s your turn.”
Tenchi narrowed his eyes. “Got you.”
The Chaseling turned violently as the tag began to glow. Reina’s body convulsed, twitching like she’d been electrocuted. Her mouth opened wide—too wide—and a scream tore through the playground.
But it wasn’t her voice.
It was hundreds.
“NO!
THE GAME IS STILL ON!
NO TAG BACKS—
NO TAG BACKS—
NO TAG BACKS!”
Maya didn’t hesitate.
She leapt forward, her chain glowing hot, and wrapped it around Reina’s torso. The fire didn’t burn her—it contained the spirit, locking its movement.
“Tenchi!” she shouted.
He struck the tag with his blade, pouring shadow energy into it. The tag shattered with a crack of thunder.
Reina screamed—once, sharply—and then collapsed.
The world shattered.
The Layer broke apart like glass dropped from a great height.
The sky unraveled. The playground dissolved.
And they were back in reality.
The sun was just starting to set.
The wind returned.
Birds chirped like nothing had happened.
Reina lay on the blacktop, unconscious but breathing.
Darren—still motionless nearby—stirred slightly. He opened his eyes, blinking at the orange sky.
Casey ran from behind the fence, sobbing with relief.
Maya exhaled.
Tenchi didn’t move.
His eyes were locked on a faint shimmer in the corner of the school building—where the chalk circle had been.
In its place, a new message:
“You’re starting to see it now, aren’t you?”
– G.M.
Part IV – The Chain Begins
The sky turned violet again.
Not from the Layer—but from the sunset bleeding across the clouds.
Back at the Sanctuary safehouse, Reina slept under crystal-stasis observation. Elise sat quietly nearby, humming a gentle lullaby that soothed the faint echoes of possession still lingering in the air.
Maya stood at the viewing glass, arms crossed, her charm bracelet quiet for once.
“She fought it,” Maya whispered. “Right to the end.”
Tenchi didn’t respond.
He was at the evidence board, pinning the broken pieces of Reina’s name tag under a red thread that stretched across three photos—each one marked with cursed playground games.
“Three events in one week,” he muttered. “The patterns are starting to layer. Someone’s not just placing these anchors… they’re weaving them.”
Maya walked over.
“What do you mean?”
He tapped the tag.
“This one wasn’t just a cursed item. It was part of a chain. The inscription beneath Reina’s name—it mentioned a game we haven’t even seen yet.”
She frowned. “Another warning?”
He nodded.
He held up the chalk photo he snapped of the playground after the Layer collapsed. Written in barely visible residue was one final message.
“Next time, you won’t see them coming.
The Red Line is already drawn.”
– G.M.
Maya’s voice dropped. “Red Line… Red Rover?”
Tenchi’s jaw clenched. “Hiroshi played that game once.”
Maya turned toward him sharply.
“You said we never talk about Hiroshi.”
“I lied.”
They stood in silence.
The Sanctuary hummed gently around them. Outside, the moon rose behind a veil of clouds.
Inside, another game piece clicked into place.
And the Game Master watched.
Smiling.
Waiting.
? Game: Tag
? Entity: Chaseling (Possession Variant)
? Anchor: Name Tag (Reina’s personal item)
? Survivors: 3 (Reina, Darren, Casey)
? Status: Game Terminated
? Notes:
-
Entity attempted mid-possession during a rule-based game trigger.
-
Host showed strong mental resistance.
-
Anchor included embedded void markings referencing future cursed game (Red Rover).
-
First mention of Hiroshi since his disappearance.
Maya’s Note: “I saw her try to fight. I saw the thing try to break her. If I ever end up like that… burn the game before it gets to my name.”
Tenchi’s Note: “Red Rover isn’t just a game. It’s the last time I saw Hiroshi. And if the Game Master wants to remind me… I’ll be ready.”