"You sick pervert, I’ll never beg you!" Sasha shoved me and spat the words at me furiously.

“Well, in that case, I’m out. We’ll both be dead tomorrow, anyway.” I snapped back, my voice full of menace.

I tugged at the stall door, ready to leave, but at that moment, Sasha grabbed me again.

She bit her lip, hesitated, and then muttered, “Ethan... I-I’m begging you. Please take the picture. Will that make you happy?”

I couldn’t believe it. The Sasha King who always looked down on me—called me a loser, a creep, even a filthy rat—my direct supervisor, was now begging me in a bathroom stall to take a photo of her private parts.

Looks like, in the face of death, things like dignity and shame don’t matter at all.

So, I took a high-definition close-up of her and uploaded it to the group chat.

The second I sent it, the company group chat exploded.

“Holy crap, Cole really took a close-up of King’s private parts? She actually agreed!”

“Sasha King’s mouth is just as sexy as her other... Wow, what a freak!”

“Man, Ethan, you’re living the dream, huh?”

The chat was buzzing with comments, but then, the demon running the game sent a message.

"Ethan Cole and Sasha King have completed the task. Cash reward granted."

After that message, the demon sent us both a cash gift.

I checked my phone. It was two thousand dollars!

Sasha sent an angry emoji and messaged the demon, "Who the hell are you? Why are you making us play this sick game? How did you kill Brooks?"

The demon replied with a smiley face and didn’t answer Sasha’s question. Instead, it sent another message:

"Now for tomorrow’s task: By 10 AM, Michael Bennett must have sex with Emily Harris, or both will face death."

The chat exploded again.

Everyone was saying they wanted to quit the damn game.

But the demon replied, "Once the devil's game starts, it cannot be stopped."

Someone suggested kicking the demon out of the group chat to end the game.

But the group admin was horrified to find out that it was impossible—there was no option to remove the demon.

At that point, Michael messaged Emily in the group, “Emily, what should we do?”

Emily, the company’s CFO, was a strong-willed woman, and her husband was a police captain. There was no way she’d agree to sleep with Bennett.

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She sent a message, “Bennett, there’s no way I’m sleeping with you.”

Michael responded with a bitter emoji, “But if we don’t do the demon’s task, we’ll be punished with death.”

“Hmph, I’ll have my husband bring a team of officers tomorrow to protect us. Let’s see how this demon kills us then,” Emily replied.

And just like that, time flew by.

The next day, we arrived at the office early.

Michael and Emily had arrived even earlier, sitting in the center of the room.

Surrounding them were four heavily armed officers, all brought in by Emily’s husband, the police captain himself.

The captain stood close to Emily, reassuring her, “Don’t worry, honey. With me here, if that demon shows up, I’ll shoot him dead.”

“Thanks, dear, I’m not scared at all,” Emily replied confidently.

Time passed, minute by minute, as if slipping through our fingers like sand.

And before we knew it, 10 o’clock arrived.

As soon as the clock struck 10, the demon sent a chilling message to the group: "Time's up. Michael Bennett and Emily Harris have failed to complete the task. Death penalty assigned."

Everyone held their breath, eyes glued to Michael and Emily.

Emily seemed fine, with her husband by her side and her strong personality, she wasn’t visibly scared. Michael, on the other hand, was trembling in fear.

Three minutes passed, and nothing happened. Both Emily and Michael were still alive, unharmed.

“Haha, what did I say? The demon can’t do anything to me. It’s all just a scare tactic,” Emily said smugly.

As if to provoke it further, she typed a message to the demon in the group.

“Come on, demon! Where’s my death penalty? Kill me if you dare!”

“I’m sitting right here, waiting for you!”

“Ha, you’re nothing but talk. You shouldn’t be called a demon, you should be called a coward!”

Emily taunted the demon.

And then, without warning—

BOOM!

A loud crash rang out. The ceiling fan above Emily had broken loose, plummeting downwards.

The high-speed fan blades sliced into her neck, decapitating her instantly. Her head rolled to the floor, eyes wide open in shock, as blood sprayed across the room, splattering those nearby.

“Ahhh!”

Chaos erupted. People screamed, some cried, and others, shaken by the gruesome sight, vomited on the spot. One girl, in pure terror, even wet herself.

Even the officers and Emily’s husband stood frozen in horror.

But the nightmare wasn’t over.

Michael's face started bleeding—blood poured from his nose, ears, and eyes.

“Michael! You’re bleeding everywhere!” someone screamed.

Michael wiped at the blood frantically, but the more he wiped, the more blood there was. Soon, he was drenched in it, becoming a horrifying bloodied figure. Minutes later, Michael collapsed, dead.

“Bennett is dead too!”

“Who are you, demon?”

“I don’t want to play this cursed game anymore! I’m quitting!”

The office descended into madness, everyone shouting in panic.

Despite the terror, Emily’s husband, the police captain, pulled himself together and shouted, “Everyone, quiet! I will get to the bottom of this. I will find this demon, and I will bring him to justice!”

He began investigating, questioning each one of us with the help of his officers.

We spent the entire morning under interrogation.

But, unsurprisingly, the captain found nothing.

At that moment, a chilling thought crept into all our minds:

“Could the demon really be... not human?”

As that thought took hold, a cold breeze seemed to sweep through the office, making the atmosphere even more eerie.

We pinned our hopes on the police, praying they’d uncover the demon and end this horrifying game.

But the more we hoped, the more crushing our despair became.

None of us could have predicted that later that afternoon, the police captain would be killed in a car crash.

On the way back to the station, his car collided head-on with a truck, killing everyone inside.

Claire, our company’s CEO, called the police commissioner to ask for more help.

But the police’s response was vague and evasive. Eventually, they outright said they couldn’t handle the case.

None of us could believe it—the police had abandoned us!

“We’re doomed! We’ll all die, one by one!” a frightened colleague sobbed.

“First it was Harris and Bennett, who’s next?”

“I don’t want to play anymore, I don’t want to die!”

“I have three kids, I can’t die!”

The entire office was consumed with fear, everyone terrified of the demon’s deadly power.

And then, as if to deepen our despair, the demon sent another group message.

"New task: Ryan Phillips and Grace Parker will play rock-paper-scissors. The loser will be punished. Deadline: 15 minutes."