The Crimson Choice Waiting in the Shadows of the Third Stall

The Unseen Presence in the Last Stall

Imagine the exact moment the school day ends and the vibrant energy of hundreds of students completely vanishes, leaving only a hollow silence. You are completely alone, washing your hands in the old restroom at the end of the first-floor corridor. The water runs cold over your fingers. Then, from the permanently locked third stall directly behind you, an impossibly smooth, chillingly polite voice breaks the silence: 『Would you like the red paper, or the blue paper?』 If you hear this question, looking over your shoulder will be the last mistake you ever make.

The Forgotten Notebook in the Twilight

Kenji was not supposed to be at school this late. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, casting long, menacing shadows across the empty schoolyard. He had forgotten his math notebook in his desk, and the thought of facing his strict teacher the next morning was far more terrifying than creeping back into the darkened building.

The halls were suffocatingly quiet. The distinct smell of floor wax and chalk dust hung heavily in the air. As he hurried down the corridor toward his classroom, a sudden, sharp ache in his stomach forced him to halt. He needed a restroom, immediately. The closest one was in the old wing of the school—a section scheduled for demolition, notorious among the students for its flickering lights and perpetually damp, cracked tiled floors. Reluctantly, Kenji pushed open the heavy wooden door of the boys' lavatory. It groaned on its hinges, a sound that echoed far too loudly in the empty space.

A Chill Beneath the Stall Door

He quickly stepped into the first stall and locked the door. The silence in the small room was absolute, broken only by his own nervous breathing. As he sat there, he began to notice the temperature dropping. It wasn't just a draft; it was a deep, bone-chilling cold that seemed to seep through the concrete walls.

He reached out for the toilet paper dispenser, his hand grasping blindly. His fingers met empty metal. The cardboard tube spun uselessly. Panic, cold and sharp, began to prickle at the back of his neck. He was stuck. He debated whether he should quickly pull his pants up and move to the next stall.

Before he could make a move, a sound froze the blood in his veins. It was the distinct click of a dress shoe stepping onto the tiles outside his stall. Then came the unmistakable swish of heavy fabric being dragged across the floor. Someone—or something—was walking slowly past the sinks, stopping directly in front of his locked door.

The Beautiful Face of Death

Kenji held his breath, pulling his legs up so his shoes wouldn't be seen from the gap under the door. The silence stretched until it felt like a physical weight crushing his chest.

Then, the voice came. It did not come from outside the door. It sounded as though someone was hovering right next to his ear, whispering with an unnatural, hypnotic elegance.

『Red paper... or blue paper?』

Kenji squeezed his eyes shut. His mind raced back to the playground rumors. Aka Manto. The crimson phantom. He remembered the older kids whispering that if you choose red, you are sliced apart until you are drenched in blood. If you choose blue, all your blood is drained until you turn as blue as a winter sky. He couldn't speak. His vocal cords were paralyzed by sheer terror.

Suddenly, the space beneath the stall door was flooded with a vibrant, glowing crimson light. The hem of a magnificent, impossibly clean red cloak brushed against the dirty tiles. Kenji slowly, against every instinct, peeked through the small crack in the stall door.

Looking back at him was a face so devastatingly handsome it defied logic, but the eyes were entirely empty, devoid of any human soul. The entity smiled, revealing perfect, white teeth.

『I asked you a question, Kenji. Red... or blue?』

The Stain That Never Washes Away

Desperation clawed at Kenji's throat. He remembered a rumor, a tiny loophole a friend had sworn was true. He had to reject the game. He had to refuse.

Mustering every ounce of courage in his trembling body, Kenji screamed, 『I don't need any paper! Leave me alone!』

The silence that followed was deafening. The crimson glow instantly vanished. The heavy presence that had filled the tiny stall evaporated like smoke. Kenji sat trembling for what felt like hours before he finally dared to unlock the door and bolt out of the school, never looking back.

The next morning, Kenji returned to a school full of bustling students. He tried to convince himself it was a hallucination born of a stomach ache and a dark room. But when he walked past the old restroom, he noticed the janitor frantically scrubbing the floor in front of the third stall. As Kenji walked by, he saw it—a single, massive stain on the tiles. Half of it was a brilliant, fresh red. The other half was a deep, suffocating blue. And standing there in the crowded hallway, Kenji wondered... what would have happened if he had stayed silent just one second longer?