Chapter 12 - Fear Factor – JB Edition
Chapter 12: Fear Factor – JB Edition
“Okay,” Crystal said confidently, “this is going to be fun.”
They stood in front of a weather-worn building just off Jalan Dhoby, nestled between a suspicious-looking massage parlour and a café that only sold drinks in beakers.
Above the entrance, a flickering sign read: “THE FINAL HOUR: Haunted Escape Experience”
Isabelle looked up.
Then back at Crystal.
Then back at the door.
“You said we were going for waffles.”
“They have waffles after the escape room!” Crystal grinned. “Motivation!”
Ivan, already pale, stared at the coffin displayed in the window.
“I have… concerns.”
Aleem adjusted his watch casually. “I have… no comments. Yet.”
The Descent Begins
Once inside, the scent of incense and stale fog-machine smoke hung in the air. The game master—dressed in full white funeral garb—greeted them with an unsettling smile.
“Welcome to The Final Hour,” she intoned. “You have 60 minutes to release the trapped soul of a murdered bride. Fail… and you’ll join her.”
Isabelle gasped audibly.
Crystal laughed. “Wah, good production value!”
Ivan whispered, “This is why I do engineering. No ghosts.”
They were ushered into a dim hallway.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Total darkness.
A distant bell chimed.
Then a whisper:
“Where… is… my… husband…?”
Phase 1: The Panic
The flashlight flickered on, illuminating peeling wallpaper and red handprints smeared across the walls.
“Oh, hell no,” Isabelle muttered, clutching Ivan’s sleeve.
A hidden speaker crackled with static, then:
“To free the soul… you must open the coffin…“
They turned slowly.
There, in the center of the room, was a wooden coffin. Ropes. Wax seals. And a lock system that looked like it came straight from a cursed tomb.
“I vote we just leave,” Ivan said quickly.
“The door’s locked,” Aleem replied calmly, inspecting the puzzle. “There’s a cipher here. Roman numerals.”
Crystal moved toward a nearby dresser—only for a mannequin’s head to fall off with a loud THUD.
She screamed. “WHAT THE—NOPE. I’M NOT PAID ENOUGH FOR THIS.”
Lights flickered. A low growl echoed.
“Ivan,” Isabelle whimpered. “It moved.”
“What moved?”
“The painting’s EYES MOVED.”
Ivan backed up, dragging Isabelle into a corner. “I’m a mechanical engineer, not an exorcist!”
Aleem stayed still.
Unbothered.
Focused.
Phase 2: The Hero
As the others huddled together, hearts pounding and nerves fried, Aleem began to piece it together.
The coded journal.
The pattern on the coffin’s side.
The faint tapping sound behind the wall—Morse code.
With steady hands and sharp focus, he flipped switches, rotated dials, and recited a prayer under his breath—part habit, part comfort.
Behind him, the others watched, eyes wide, breaths held.
“He’s… not scared?” Isabelle whispered.
Crystal nodded, voice shaking. “Nope. Not even flinching.”
“I think I’m in love,” Ivan said. Then caught himself. “With his bravery. Chill.”
Suddenly, a compartment clicked open.
Inside—an old veil, stained with dried blood.
And beneath it, a key.
Aleem didn’t hesitate.
He turned the final lock.
The coffin creaked.
The Bride Appears
The lights cut.
A shriek tore through the room.
The coffin lid flew open.
And out rose—
A life-sized animatronic bride, face twisted, eyes glowing red.
Ivan and Isabelle screamed in stereo. Crystal fell to the floor.
But Aleem stood firm.
“Peace be upon you,” he whispered. “We’re just here to help.”
The bride stopped.
The lights returned.
The final bell chimed.
“Congratulations,” the speaker intoned. “The soul is free.”
The door unlocked.
ABIX ran out.
Aleem walked.
The Debrief
They collapsed onto a couch in the waiting lounge.
Crystal clutched her chest. “I think I aged 10 years.”
Ivan nodded. “My heart has trauma.”
Isabelle stared at Aleem. “You didn’t even blink.”
He shrugged. “I was more worried about the time penalty.”
“Bro,” Ivan said, dead serious, “if we were in a horror movie, you’d be the last man standing.”
“No lah,” Aleem said, cracking a rare smile. “I’d survive… and drag you all with me.”
Crystal looked at him, eyes full of something between pride and awe.
“We’re never doing a haunted room again.”
“Agreed.”
“Waffles?” Isabelle squeaked.
“Waffles.”
As they walked out into the humid JB night, the city alive with honking cars and glowing streetlamps, they laughed about their own cowardice. They teased Ivan’s shriek. Replayed Crystal’s fall. Complimented Aleem’s cool under fire like he was some ghost-hunting superhero.
But beneath the jokes, something stirred:
Even as they grew older, as life moved forward, as jobs and commitments scattered their paths—this was what held them together.
Moments like this.
Unscripted. Unplanned. Undeniably ABIX.