
The printed invitation has no signature. It only lists your ten names and a chilling line: "The secret of 404 must be settled."
You were the Class of 2004 at the prestigious Yushan Secondary School, all former residents of the legendary "top scorer's nest," Dormitory 404. The fire ten years ago sealed its fate. The school declined, and you all moved on. Now, this letter pulls you back. This isn't a reunion. It feels like a summons to a final, unsettling Escape Room, with a host who remains ominously anonymous.
The Yushan campus is abandoned. The air is thick with the humid, decaying smell common to forgotten places in Singapore. The old building that houses Dormitory 404 still bears the dark scars of smoke on its exterior.
The dormitory door is unlocked. Inside, darkness is absolute. A wave of stale dust and a faint, persistent scent of burnt wood hits you. Flashlights reveal a time capsule: bunk beds, desks, and lockers frozen in time.
But the first anomaly appears immediately.
The "Wall of Fame" is covered with photos of past 404 top scorers. Your year's space is empty. A single typed label reads: "Class of 2004: Absent."

Personal items remain, as if the occupants merely stepped out. The sense of suspended time is a classic Escape Room technique, designed to lull you before the twist.
Someone finds a school notebook. The early pages contain neat notes. The final pages are different. They are filled with a frantic, scrawled sentence, repeated like a mantra: "I didn't start it."
It is signed by Lin Wencong—your head prefect, and the boy who died in the fire.
The room feels colder. The flashlights begin to flicker. This controlled failure of light is intentional, plunging you deeper into the narrative of the Escape Room and isolating you from comfort.
Then, the old intercom crackles to life.
A distorted recording plays. It's the sound of an argument—young voices, tense and afraid.
"...This is going too far. We'll be expelled!"
"It's the only way to keep the streak alive. For 404."
"Wencong, stop! This is insane!"
A loud crash, a scream, and then silence.
The recording ends. Those were your voices. From that night. This Escape Room isn't just about exploring a space; it's about reconstructing a suppressed memory.

Driven by dread, you search Wencong's old bunk. Hidden beneath it is a metal box. Inside lies not a personal diary, but a formal document—a "Pact of 404."
It is a contract, signed by all ten of you. The goal: "To preserve the legacy of Dormitory 404 by any means necessary for the tenth consecutive year." The specific methods are listed on a page that has been completely burnt away.
Nine signatures are clear. The tenth, where Lin Wencong's name should be, is violently scratched out.
The truth crashes down. The "legend" was a collective endeavor. The fire was no accident. It was the catastrophic result of your pact. Lin Wencong wasn't a victim. He was perhaps the one who tried to back out, or worse, the one you all let take the blame.

A heavy silence fills the room. Then, a new sound begins.
From the dark hallway outside the sealed door comes a slow, dragging footstep.
Thud.
A flat, digital voice counts: "Nine."
Thud.
"Eight."
The footsteps are approaching. There are only nine of you in the room. The count is for the tenth. The absent one. This element of an approaching, unseen "presence" taps into a fundamental fear of being pursued, a cornerstone of effective horror Escape Room design.
This is the final trap of the Escape Room. You weren't invited back to uncover a secret. You were summoned to complete it. To finally account for the tenth member your collective silence erased.
"Seven."
The footsteps stop outside the door. The handle begins to turn.
The Haunted School explores the dark side of collective ambition and the poison of a shared lie. We merge the familiar, oppressive atmosphere of old Singaporean school corridors with a deeply psychological narrative. The experience is conducted within a professionally managed, safe environment where all scares are carefully controlled.
The door to Dormitory 404 is opening. The final chapter of your pact is here. Will you face the consequence of your silence, or will the legend of 404 claim its final, missing members? The ultimate Escape Room challenge is not to escape the room, but to escape the past you built together.