The noise in Aoi's head was an eerie wave, neither music nor words.
Black threads crawled up her arm, sinking beneath her skin. Her vision warped, the stage lights fracturing into red and blue. Yuto shook her shoulders, but his voice was distant, like it was bubbling up from underwater.
"Aoi, snap out of it! We're getting out!"
She shook her head desperately, and the noise cut out for a moment, her senses snapping back.
Grabbing Yuto's hand, she bolted down a narrow backstage corridor. Behind them, the man's growls, amplified through the speakers, rattled the live house walls. The black stain spread across the corridor, writhing as if chasing them.
They aimed for the emergency stairs, but the entrance was sealed by a black, membrane-like film.
Aoi aimed her flashlight and prodded it. It was soft, elastic.
When the light hit, the membrane shrank, emitting a faint, scream-like sound.
"It's alive."
Her voice trembled. Yuto fumbled a lighter from his pocket and flicked it on. The flame grazed the membrane, scorching it and tearing a hole. They slipped through, racing up the stairs.
Halfway up, Aoi's foot snagged. Glancing back, she saw black threads tangled around her sneaker, linked to the stain on the floor, dragging her back.
"Yuto, help!"
Yuto seized her hand, pulling with all his strength. The threads tautened, biting into her ankle. Gritting her teeth, Aoi fished a cutter from her pocket. She slashed at the threads, black liquid spraying across the stairs.
When the threads snapped, the stain froze, sinking into the floor.
"Hurry, up!"
They reached the ground floor, but the live house entrance was a chaotic mess, packed with frantic guests. Screams mingled with the music as people shoved toward the exits.
Aoi slipped on her headset, trying to reach Kaz.
"Kaz, you there? It's bad!"
A crackling reply came through.
"Aoi, where are you? The crowd's losing it! That guy on stage is off!"
"We gotta stop him! The stain—it's all connected!"
Aoi locked eyes with Yuto, and they resolved to head back to the stage. Pushing through the crowd, they neared the platform.
Onstage, the man clutched the mic, his growls unrelenting. His body was coated in the black stain, his arms and face grotesquely swollen.
Some in the crowd, marked by the same black stains, staggered toward the stage, joining him.
Aoi sprinted to the control panel, searching for Miho. She was still at the mixer, but something was wrong. Her purple hair clung to her sweat-soaked forehead, her eyes vacant. Black stains spread across her hands.
"Miho! You okay?"
Miho raised her head slowly, her lips parting in a whisper.
"The sound…"
Aoi reached for her hand, but Yuto pulled her back.
"Aoi, no. She's gone."
Miho slammed the mixer's sliders to max, and a deafening blast of noise erupted from the speakers.
Aoi clapped her hands over her ears, dropping to her knees. The stain surged, swallowing the stage.
The man's growls morphed into a song, and some in the crowd began to sway, black glints in their eyes.
Aoi staggered to her feet, lunging at the mixer. She yanked the sliders down and tore the power cable free. The speakers fell silent, and a hush blanketed the live house.
But the stain didn't stop. It climbed the walls, dripping from the ceiling, as if devouring the entire building.
"Cutting the sound didn't work… what now?"
Aoi's shout was cut short as Yuto tapped her shoulder.
"Aoi, look!"
He pointed to an old iron door at the back of the stage, used for equipment storage. Now, a faint light leaked from its edges.
Aoi nodded, and they wove through the panicked crowd to the door. Inside was a cramped room, cluttered with dusty gear and faded posters.
At its center stood an ancient record player, its needle spinning endlessly. The record was pitch-black, etched with a spiral pattern.
"It's like the stain," Aoi whispered.
A low sound emanated from the record—not music, but the rhythmic breathing of something alive.
Aoi tried to lift the needle, but it wouldn't budge. The moment her hand grazed the record, black threads coiled around her arm again. Noise flooded her head, and her vision blacked out.
Her mind was dragged into the live house's past.
A dark stage, an old band, a frenzied crowd.
But at the stage's center, a black stain spread, swallowing the performers one by one. Their bodies dissolved into the stain, vanishing with the sound.
Aoi realized: this live house was built to seal something away. And now, the music was breaking that seal.
"Aoi, come back!"
Yuto's voice snapped her awake.
She smashed the record player to the floor, shattering the record. Black fragments scattered, and silence reclaimed the room. But the live house still trembled. The stain spread further, crawling up walls, dripping from the ceiling.
"We can't stop it…!"
As Aoi's voice echoed, the floor groaned, and a deep crack tore through it.