Ultimate Evolution I Became the Master of the World

Michael picked up the pace, pushing through the pitch-black night.

But those footsteps behind him were still there, steady as ever, tailing him like a shadow.

No matter how much he tried to lose 'em, they just kept getting closer.

He clutched his phone like a lifeline, not daring to let the screen go dark, ready to hit play on that audio file at any second.

He thought, 'If that ghost comes at me again, this knocking sound is my only shot.'

He was on edge, ready to throw down with the ghost at any moment.

But things didn't go as planned. The footsteps stayed three feet behind, not budging an inch closer or farther.

No matter whether Michael sped up or slowed down, the footsteps remained at the same distance.

'Is this ghost just waiting for my phone to die?' he wondered.

Seeing the battery dip below ten percent, Michael's anxiety spiked.

If that was the case, he was toast. No way he was getting out of here alive.

He glanced at his phone again; it displayed only 7%.

"Below 5%, and it could shut down any second."

He bolted, sprinting towards the sound of dripping water.

The footsteps followed, relentless.

He could even catch a whiff of something rotten from behind.

As he ran full tilt, the dripping sound got louder.

But then, his phone screen lit up automatically.

Battery was only 5%.

Michael was panting, drenched in sweat. He glanced at the screen, panic rising.

Exhausted, he couldn't stop. Stopping meant death.

He kept running.

Suddenly, a faint red light appeared in the darkness ahead, like a tiny spark in the night-weak but unmistakable.

Michael's heart leapt. A glimmer of hope.

But then, his phone vibrated and the screen lit up again. Shutting down automatically.

Even with a bit of battery left, the phone was shutting down.

As the screen went dark, Michael felt a cold presence behind him, the footsteps closing in fast. That thing was right on him.

In the darkness, he felt a cold hand reaching for his neck. No matter how he ran, he couldn't shake it.

"Am I gonna die here?" Michael felt the icy fingers touch his neck.

The cold spread through his body, and the stench of decay filled his nose.

He was trapped.

The red light in the darkness grew brighter.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. The cold hand on his neck froze, not strangling him.

Michael, a few steps ahead, felt the ghost pull away.

It seemed to have stopped chasing him.

"What just happened?"

After running a bit further, Michael couldn't go on and stopped, gasping for air.

He replayed the terrifying moment in his mind.

He knew he survived not by luck, but because the ghost had given up. Why?

The footsteps were gone. For now, he was safe.

"Alright, since that ghost isn't on my tail anymore, I guess I'm good for now. Gotta get outta here ASAP," Michael muttered, catching his breath. He eyed the source of the red light and started walking towards it. Soon enough, he reached it.

"A light bulb?" he wondered. In the darkness, it was hard to tell.

He reached out to touch the red glow.

Instantly, a sharp pain shot through his hand, and he yanked it back.

"This ain't no light."

To his horror, the red-glowing glass ball stuck to his hand, wriggling and burrowing into the back of his hand.

Cold and pain washed over him in an instant.

Michael hit the ground, convulsing in agony.

But through the pain, he noticed something changing around him.

The darkness started to pull back, and he could see everything clearly, like he suddenly had night vision.

The pain came fast and left just as quickly.

After less than three minutes of struggling, the pain began to fade.

He lay on the ground, nearly spent, gasping for air, his muscles still twitching.

"What the hell is happening?"

After a while, he managed to sit up.

But when he saw his surroundings, terror gripped him.

In front of him stood a tree. A pale tree, like it was made of bones.

Hanging from it were tattered human skins, filthy rags, and zombie heads. But what really freaked him out was the ten-foot-tall figure lying on the tree trunk.

Not a person, but a shadow. A human-shaped shadow, seemingly made of darkness.

The tall shadow hung upside down on the tree, head facing the ground.

Looking closer, he saw a thick iron nail, as thick as an adult's arm, driven into the shadow's chest. It looked like a nail from a vampire's coffin, rusted and ready to snap. Black blood oozed from where the shadow was nailed.

The dripping sound he'd heard earlier came from this.

But when Michael saw the shadow's head, a chill ran through him.

The shadow's head had no facial features, just a hollow where its eye should be. The red light earlier seemed to be its eyeball.

Michael looked at his hand.

The skin on the back of his hand had split open, revealing a red eyeball that turned a few times. At the same time, a strange perspective appeared in his mind.

It was like an eye had really grown on the back of his hand, and the image from this eye was transmitted to his brain.

It was weird, or maybe some kind of unknown ability.

But Michael looked at the creepy tree, the human skins hanging from it, and the giant shadow nailed to the trunk. "This place is messed up. Whatever this tree is, I need to bounce."

He had a gut feeling that the giant shadow nailed to the tree was even scarier than the old man.

And he sensed that the zombies hanging on the tree seemed to be watching him with their hollow eye sockets.

He glanced at the red eye on the back of his hand, feeling uneasy. But now wasn't the time to worry about that. The surrounding darkness had receded, and Michael could see everything clearly.

This was a dim, endless space with just this tree.

It didn't look like the school he knew at all.

But when he looked back, he saw a door in the direction he had come from, the bathroom door.

The door was so close to him all along, yet he hadn't even noticed it before.