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墨書 Inktalez
September 21 | H♡ wrote
Today, while cleaning the back door of the classroom, I saw that School Staff again. I swear, he always appears without making a sound; I didn't even hear his footsteps. He just stood there watching me wipe the blackboard. I didn't dare to look up, but from the reflection in the glass, it seemed like he was smiling, though his lips didn't move at all...
I also noticed that he has six fingers—yes, six! His left hand's Sixth Finger is black and looks like dried wood. When he picked up the broom with that hand, it split in half right away; I'm not joking.
September 22 | K♡ replied
I heard before that he was an old School Staff who retired long ago, so why is he still at school? My aunt used to study here, and she said that ten years ago, a School Staff killed someone in the boys' bathroom and was taken away by the police. They said he hid a student's tongue in the Tool Room's Cleaning Supplies Bag... I don't dare to ask if he's the same person.
Also, last time we passed by the equipment room, he was standing at the door, filing his nails vigorously, like he was carving bone. When I asked him what he was doing, he said, "Just helping students trim them so they don’t grow too long." I didn’t understand, but that night I dreamt my own fingers kept growing out no matter how much I tried to cut them.
September 23 | A♡ wrote
My friend talked to him before because the faucet was broken. She said that School Staff answered her in a super weird voice, a sticky kind of voice; she said it sounded like someone rolling a spoon in their throat. He also said, "The faucet is a wound; don’t touch it anymore or it will bleed more."
I didn’t believe it at first, but last night I dreamt that our classroom's faucet started flowing black water, and the entire sink was filled with Blood Clots. When I woke up scared, my hands were really wet... I didn’t dare tell my mom; she said it was just stress. But I really think it's him who made us start having those dreams.
September 23 (night) | R♡ added
Does anyone know why our school's Cleaning Supplies have no brand names? I asked Senior Sister, and she said the school used to order from a certain brand but later switched to "internally produced," and no one knows where they are made. Today in the corner of the hallway, I saw a Mop fall down; its cloth head had a note stuck underneath that read: "This is blood he wiped; cannot be used again."
I took a picture, but my phone crashed; now that photo is completely black.
September 24 | H♡ replied
Have you noticed that he never walks in a straight line? He always walks at an angle and stops for a second at every corner as if waiting for some command. Today I hid behind the stairs to watch him; he was talking to the wall and said, "One will fall down from this floor today; I'm here to catch it."
I thought he was crazy, but there was this super nauseating feeling inside me, as if when I looked at him, he actually knew I was watching but didn’t look up... because his shadow was already turning around.
(The page ends here; the next page is September 27 with messy handwriting and incoherent meaning.)
September 27 | ?♡ wrote
He came into the classroom today... without making a sound and without a shadow... We all sat in our seats frozen in place. He touched the Podium with that black Sixth Finger and told us, "Today is your cleaning day." When he said this, one of my teeth fell out—just dropped down. It didn’t hurt, but I bled. When I looked down, I found that everyone had an extra piece of White Object on their desks... It wasn’t Chalk.
I remember my friend J sitting next to me, but today I can’t recall her face at all.
I feel like he’s not really a School Staff.
He was cleaning up the things we remembered.
September 28, Evening
I sneaked in by myself.
That day, after school, I realized I had forgotten my phone, probably left it in the drawer that morning. Around seven in the evening, I slipped into the campus through the Side Door. The playground was deserted, and all I could hear was the intermittent metallic scraping sound of the wind brushing against the flagpole. The entire campus felt like an empty water tower, echoing only with the sound of my footsteps.
The corridor lights were those old-style Old Fluorescent Lights, flickering and trembling; some even blinked. Each step up the stairs felt like entering some kind of ritual, with shadows on the walls twisting. For a moment, I thought I saw my own shadow with an extra head.
The Classroom Door was ajar, seemingly waiting for me. As I entered, the air was unusually dry, like a Sun Blanket that had been exposed to too much sunlight—soft yet covered with a layer of dust. The desks and chairs were neatly arranged, the curtains fluttered slightly, and there it was—the drawer where my phone lay, like a piece of forgotten evidence.
Just as I reached out, a strange sound came from outside: gurgling, reminiscent of metal grinding when a Wheel Hub turns—heavy and slow, as if dragging something heavy and sticky.
I crouched down to peek through the gap under the desk. One by one, the corridor lights went out, and then he appeared.
He wore a Black Old Raincoat; the fabric was shriveled but bulged at the back as if something inside was breathing slowly. He pushed a deep gray garbage bin that seemed outdated in design, more like a hand-welded Metal Box. Inside were not trash but neatly stacked backpacks, shoes, sportswear, and even a Long Hair Group tied up with a Student Hair Tie—damply resting on top of a backpack.
He entered the classroom silently; the floor made no sound, and the Mop was dry. Yet he continued to drag it across the floor, which began to shine darkly where he had passed, like polished metal—clean to an eerie degree, even reflective. I could hear him making soft bubbling sounds with his mouth.
Then he stopped by the wall, propping up the Mop and slowly rubbing it against the surface with his extra black finger. The wall began to char black as if burned by electricity, filling the air with a mix of Caramel and burnt skin smell. He drew a circle and then whispered:
"This place hasn't been cleaned yet... there's still one... still left..."
I hid under the Podium, my heart racing as if it would burst from my chest. I pressed my hand over my mouth but couldn't stop trembling. Suddenly he bent down—I heard his knees crackle like dry wood planks. Then he lowered his head to smell the floor; that sound... it wasn't inhaling but rather like licking something with his tongue.
"Mm... your memory fell into the drawer... I'll help you dispose of it."
From above the Podium came the sound of his nails scraping against the wood—slow and steady; each stroke felt like recording something. Then I heard a small crisp snap—a sound like breaking bones—as he softly said:
"You’re sitting in the wrong place."
I couldn't take it anymore; I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my teeth. When I opened them again, the classroom was empty; even the Wind Sound had vanished. The air was left only with a ring of charred Black Marks on the wall.
A yellowed note lay on the podium, its corners curled as if licked, with a line of ink smudged across it:
"If you remember, it means it wasn't cleaned properly."
[Supplementary Record | Academic Affairs Office Space Confirmation Report | Submitted by: Facility Maintenance Team]
On the morning of September 29, 2024, in response to reports from students regarding unusual traces observed in the classroom the previous night, the Facility Maintenance Team dispatched personnel to conduct a routine inspection of Third Year Class Three.
According to the Record:
- No burn marks were found in the classroom; the walls showed no unusual stains or odors.
- The floor was free of any drag marks, dry and clean.
- All desks and the podium were in normal condition; however, no podium was found on-site.
Note: According to School History data, the classroom used by Third Year Class Three has not had a podium since its renovation in 2015, having been replaced by a Teacher's Handheld Manuscript Board and Projection operation. Therefore, no podium structure should exist on-site.
Additionally, a Facility Personnel member reported while counting desks that "it feels like one is missing," but upon physical comparison, no obvious anomalies were found. That employee took leave that evening and did not report back the following day.
Appendix (Suspicious Object):
Recovered from the bottom of a trash bin was a small piece of paper with the words: "She hasn't left yet." (Handwriting is being compared with student assignments.)
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