Fantôme derrière toi

Chapitre 8

Lin Han rested his head against the dirty car window, gazing absently at the sky. In the distance, a cloud, pure white with a golden edge from the sunlight, glided slowly across the vast blue expanse.

Lin Han's gaze was quickly drawn to the cloud. Its shape resembled a white-clad angel with flowing hair and the faint outline of wings. He thought of Chen Yan again; or rather, he had never stopped missing her, ever since he left her rented apartment. His thoughts drifted far away with the cloud. The train station was the final stop for the bus, so there was no need to worry about missing his stop.

The streets were bustling with the anticipation of the approaching year-end. The car moved slowly, but the cloud quickly disappeared from Lin Han's sight. He sighed softly, drawing a strange look from the middle-aged woman beside him. The car was nearing the train station, but it was already packed with people carrying large suitcases, probably like him, rushing to catch their trains.

Following the bustling crowd into the station waiting hall, which was noisy, crowded, and stuffy, there were no seats left. Lin Han found a corner by the window, leaned against the wall, and gazed into the distance, his eyes once again filled with the vast expanse of blue.

The station announcement blared above Lin Han's head, startling him. It took him a while to realize it was time to enter the station. A greater commotion erupted in the crowd as everyone, carrying large bags and bundles, struggled to push their way to the entrance. Lin Han was jostled forward by the throng, and only when he saw the tickets held high by others did he remember that he should take out his own.

Lin Han fumbled in his breast pocket for a while, but couldn't find the train ticket. He stood there, stunned, drawing a chorus of disgruntled hisses behind him. He pushed his way to the side, put down his backpack, and turned his breast pocket inside out—it was empty. He clearly remembered putting the ticket in his breast pocket before leaving home.

Had he misremembered? Lin Han searched every pocket on his body, meticulously turning his wallet and backpack inside, but still couldn't find the ticket. He tried hard to recall the events leading up to the train station, ruling out the possibility of it being stolen, and even more so, the possibility of it being taken away. The ticket had simply vanished into thin air.

The final announcement urging passengers to enter the station had already been broadcast, and only two staff members remained at the entrance. It was too late to buy a ticket now, especially since tickets were extremely scarce at this time. Most importantly, Lin Han was out of money; the little he had left in his wallet wasn't even enough for half a ticket.

"Are you kidding me? How could I have lost my ticket?" Lin Han looked at the entrance with a bitter expression. The two staff members stared at him warily. He avoided their four piercing gazes, bent down to pick up his backpack, and walked helplessly towards the entrance of the waiting hall.

At a public phone booth outside the station, Lin Han made a long-distance call home. He told his mother in a lighthearted tone that he didn't plan to come home for the winter break. As his mother nagged and nagged, he felt his eyes welling up, and tears almost fell. He didn't know what bad luck he had encountered; everything seemed to be going wrong, even a small train ticket could mysteriously disappear.

He stepped out of the phone booth. The wind continued to blow, the sky was still so blue, and the sun still hung brightly on the horizon, as if painted on, radiating no heat. Everything was the same as before he entered the waiting hall, unchanged. The only difference was Lin Han's state of mind, which was filled with despondency, almost spreading outwards.

He was back in his familiar dorm room. He opened the door, but there was no one there. The space, which usually felt cramped and small, suddenly seemed much larger. Lin Han's hand loosened, and his backpack fell to the ground. He went inside, sat down at his desk, and stared blankly at the pile of scraps of paper and old books scattered on the floor. He felt that this empty and cluttered space was exactly like his inner world at that moment.

At noon, after eating a bowl of tasteless instant noodles, Lin Han took out several local newspapers he had just bought, hoping to find a holiday job to support himself during the winter break. There were quite a few job postings; he selected a few that matched his qualifications and called them one by one to apply. In the afternoon, he went for an interview at a large supermarket and passed smoothly. His job was simple: distributing flyers every day. The pay wasn't high, but it was enough to cover all his daily expenses for the time being.

With a job secured and him able to start work the day after tomorrow, Lin Han's gloom dissipated somewhat. In the evening, back in his dorm, he began cleaning and tidying up. After all, he'd be staying there for the entire winter break, and he couldn't just make do in this pigsty-like environment.

2

The dormitory room was quickly tidied up and looked brand new in Lin Han's eyes. He let out a sigh of relief, wiped the fine beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and began to make the bed. After smoothing out the last wrinkle on the sheet, he threw his tired body heavily onto the bed, the wooden frame creaking and groaning.

A soft "thud" came from under the bed, as if something had fallen to the floor. Lin Han lazily rolled over, gripping the edge of the bed with both hands, his upper body drooping down, his gaze probing the dark underside of the bed. In the corner against the wall, there was a square object, lying quietly in the dust under the bed; it looked like a notebook.

Lin Han got out of bed, grabbed a broom, and laboriously used the broom handle to retrieve the object. It was indeed a notebook, a thin, dark green softcover. He sat down on the bed, brushing the dust off the notebook, but couldn't recall ever having such a notebook. Perhaps one of his roommates had left it behind. Thinking this, he casually flipped through the notebook.

One page, two pages, three pages… all blank. It seemed to be a brand new, unused notebook. Lin Han, too lazy to flip through any further, casually tossed the notebook onto the empty bed beside him. The notebook lay open on the bed frame, the gentle breeze causing the pages to rustle. Lin Han's gaze shifted slightly, then suddenly stopped. On the last page of the notebook, there appeared to be a line of text.

Lin Han crawled over from the bedside and picked up the notebook again. He turned to the last page and, sure enough, there was a line of text, the characters small and neat. He straightened the notebook, and as soon as his eyes met the line of text, he froze, his face turning red and then white, and his breathing became labored.

Friday the 13th, 11:44 PM, Third Cafeteria.

Isn't this Chen Yan's handwriting? As if to prove his idea was correct, Lin Han smelled a faint, familiar fragrance, a scent that conjured up Chen Yan's image in his mind. He looked at the words with some confusion, his mind a complete blank.

"Could Chen Yan have been here?" Lin Han muttered to himself, but he immediately shook his head. Chen Yan had left early in the morning, so how could she have come to his dorm in the afternoon? He found this a bit unbelievable; even if she hadn't left, she wouldn't have come here on her own initiative. He racked his brains for a long time, but couldn't figure it out.

Lin Han glanced at the calendar on the opposite wall. The 13th of this month was Friday. He raised his arm and looked at his watch. The dial showed that today was the 13th. He suddenly remembered the notes Chen Yan had left before the previous two games. A thought popped into his instantly clear mind, leaving him dumbfounded.

"Another game?" Lin Han exclaimed, then immediately covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes darting around guiltily, as if worried that someone was overhearing him. But Chen Yan had already left school, so why would she rush back for a boring game? He couldn't figure it out no matter how hard he tried.

It was obvious that the game would start tonight. Lin Han suddenly wondered if someone was playing a prank on him. However, he almost immediately dismissed the idea. Everyone who had seen Chen Yan's game invitation note, except for him, had died; no one else would know its contents and play such a joke.

Dead. My God! Could their ghosts be playing a trick on me? The mere thought of the word "ghost" sent shivers down Lin Han's spine. He gasped for breath, curled up in a ball, and looked around with a chilling expression. Though a sliver of light still lingered outside the window, the dimly lit dormitory room was filled with shadowy figures, as if malevolent shadows were lurking everywhere.

Lin Han threw down his notebook, jumped out of bed, and without even putting on slippers, ran to the dormitory door and turned on all the lights. The pale light of the fluorescent lights chased away the shadows, finally making him feel a little better. His chaotic thoughts slowly began to sort out, and he suddenly realized that the fear had just subsided when he started thinking about Chen Yan again.

It was past dinnertime, and Lin Han felt hungry. He pulled out a bag of biscuits, ate a few, and then a wave of drowsiness washed over him. He put down the bag of biscuits, slumped against the headboard, and began to doze off. The campus was quiet after the holiday, and his heavy, slow breathing echoed in the deserted dormitory.

The little girl in the white princess dress reappeared, enveloped in a shimmering halo, floating in the darkness. She was still as adorable as ever, but her face lacked the innocence expected of someone her age, replaced by anxiety. Lin Han stared at her, his expression blank. He was filled with anticipation; every time she appeared in his dreams, he would hope to hear clearly what she had to say to him.

"No..."—The little girl kept mouthing the same words, but Lin Han could only make out the first two. No what? He asked the little girl, a question he remembered asking in every dream, yet never receiving the answer he sought. The little girl continued to repeat the same mouth shape, but this time, she was growing taller, at a rapid pace, as if time itself were flying by.

The little girl had grown into a young woman of eighteen or nineteen. A white sundress accentuated her angelic face, but her beautiful eyes held a deep melancholy. Was it Chen Yan? How could the little girl have grown into Chen Yan? Lin Han's expression became incredibly complex. He slowly opened his arms, wanting to embrace her, but he couldn't.

Chen Yan stretched out her fair arm towards Lin Han, her small, alluring lips still forming the shapes of a little girl's mouth. Blood, thick blood, slid from her eyes like two scarlet teardrops. As the blood flowed from her eyes, her body began to become translucent, then suddenly burst like bubbles, scattering into countless tiny green dots that danced and fluttered like fireflies in the dark night.

Lin Han's body jerked violently, his eyes snapping open. The back of his head slammed against the bed frame, a tingling pain shooting through him. The image of Chen Yan's bloodshot eyes, her pitiful state, remained vividly etched on his retina. Could this be a bad omen? A sense of panic gripped him, his worry for Chen Yan growing stronger. Instinctively, he clasped his hands together, clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

3

Looking at his watch, it was almost eleven o'clock. Lin Han was surprised that he had actually slept for so long while sitting on the edge of his bed. At that moment, he made a decision—to go to the third cafeteria. He felt he had to go no matter what, or perhaps he really would have a chance to see Chen Yan again. If he didn't go, he wouldn't have a peaceful holiday.

Having made up his mind, Lin Han felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders, though his worry for Chen Yan hadn't lessened. He put on his cotton coat, walked to the door, and suddenly stopped, as if saying goodbye, glancing around at the familiar furnishings of the dormitory. A gust of wind blew in from somewhere, and the empty wooden bed frame flipped through a few pages with a rustling sound.

Lin Han's heart skipped a beat. He stepped forward, picked up the notebook, and turned to the last page. The words were incredibly real and clear, definitely not a dream he had while asleep. Just as he was about to put the notebook down, he suddenly noticed that the words seemed to be slowly wriggling. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. It wasn't that he was seeing things; the words were indeed moving, like tiny insects floating in water.

What will happen this time? Lin Han thought of the previous two notes, both of which under his unwavering gaze, underwent incredible changes. He stared nervously at the words, unconsciously holding his breath.

The movement of the characters could no longer be described as wriggling. They twisted and turned violently, gathering into a tadpole-like mass, then quickly scattering. Lin Han could feel a slight tremor emanating from the notebook; he was certain it couldn't be his imagination. In its final gathering, the delicate characters coalesced into a large, round, blurry blob of ink.

Lin Han's hands began to tremble. He wasn't sure if it was his own hands shaking or the notebook's trembling that was causing his hand to move. With a "whoosh," as if someone had blew on it, the black orb burst into flames. The eerie blue flames flickered and burned, providing no heat whatsoever. Lin Han's hand loosened, and the notebook fell to the ground. The flames suddenly intensified, instantly engulfing the notebook.

***! Why does this always happen? Lin Han took a step back, his gaze fixed on the charred, shrunken notebook. The flames slowly died down, and the ash began to move again, spinning and turning into black strips less than a centimeter long, connecting end to end, and disappearing into the ground.

Lin Han stood there stunned for a long time, then slowly squatted down. The gray cement floor was spotless; the ashes had vanished without a trace right before his eyes, leaving not a single mark. He stretched out his right hand in disbelief, trembling violently, and held it in mid-air for a long time before finally refusing to touch the ground. Holding that strange posture for a long time, he withdrew his hand, supported himself on his knees, stood up, and turned to leave the dormitory.

The long, narrow corridor was lit only by a single 25-watt light bulb, probably because the school was on holiday and trying to save electricity. Lin Han walked nervously down the corridor, finally finding himself bathed in the crisp moonlight. The vast campus, devoid of its usual hustle and bustle, was eerily quiet. He tightened his collar, braving the cold night wind, and headed towards the third canteen.

Lin Han didn't encounter a single person along the way. After turning another corner, he would see the third canteen. Only then did he suddenly remember that this canteen, abandoned by the school, also had a terrifying legend surrounding it, being one of the ten most haunted places on campus.

About seven or eight years ago, the Third Canteen was the liveliest place on campus. Although it was called a canteen, it was more like a small restaurant. Unlike other canteens where stir-fries were boiled, their dishes were cooked in small batches. Not only were they delicious, but they were also reasonably priced, and they even charged for meal tickets. For a long time, it was a popular place for students to improve their meals.

But what no one expected was that about seven years ago, one autumn noon, a large-scale food poisoning incident suddenly occurred in the third canteen, killing several people on the spot. Despite the hospital's best efforts, more than half of the injured who were sent to the hospital died. The police intervened in the investigation of this food poisoning incident and quickly discovered that a large dose of cyanide had been added to the rice in the canteen.

After a thorough investigation, the police identified a key suspect—Gao Yang, the cafeteria's head chef. Just as the police were about to launch their operation to apprehend him, Gao Yang vanished. Several days after the arrest warrant was issued, he remained missing, with no trace of his escape found. The case seemed destined to remain unsolved.

However, a little over a week later, police received a report that an unbearable stench was emanating from the sealed-off third canteen. Upon re-entering the scene, police discovered Gao Yang, who had been dead for several days, lying in the canteen. The scene indicated that Gao Yang had clearly committed suicide; he had slit his throat with a boning knife from the kitchen, and dried, blackened blood was scattered on the floor. In the pocket of his bloated, foul-smelling body, police found a bloodstained suicide note. The note confessed to poisoning him, explaining that his motive was a marital breakdown, which led him to take his anger out on everyone else, resulting in him poisoning the food in a fit of rage.

With so many people dying at once, the third canteen was completely closed by the school authorities. It's said that every full moon night, eerie noises emanate from the canteen, with some even seeing lights on late at night or hearing painful groans. Like any interesting story, this tale became increasingly fantastical, evolving into several different versions. Some even claimed to see ghostly figures every night, wandering the canteen with piercing cries and狰狞 faces, seemingly intent on devouring people.

During the day, even if he had to pass by the third canteen, Lin Han would rather avoid that seemingly ordinary building. But today, for some reason, as if possessed, he had automatically come to this gloomy place.

4

"Bewitched!" Lin Han was startled, realizing he had been standing at that corner for a long time, his hands and face numb from the wind. He made a strange move, like a thief, slipping behind the wall and furtively peeking out towards the third canteen, his heart trembling with nervousness.

Suddenly, a burst of laughter ripped through the cold night. Lin Han could no longer suppress his fear, cried out, and fell to the ground with a thud. The laughter vanished in an instant, its echo causing a considerable ringing in his ears. Before he could recover from his initial shock, the laughter returned, high-pitched and piercing, like the hoarse voice of an old man.

Birds? It was a bird call. Lin Han suddenly remembered watching a Discovery Channel episode about birds, which featured a nocturnal bird whose call sounded similar to an old man's laughter. Although he had forgotten the bird's name, the call was so strange that he couldn't forget it. After calming down, he was absolutely certain that the laughter he had just heard was from that bird.

Lin Han exhaled a breath of stale air, closed his eyes, and gently patted his chest to calm his mind. From the nearby woods came the sound of flapping wings, followed by the fading laughter, further confirming his suspicions. He got up from the ground, brushed the dust off his clothes, and then felt a dull ache in his tailbone.

"Lin Han, Lin Han..." A clear, melodious voice drifted over from afar. Lin Han's eyes, which had been filled with terror, were immediately filled with overwhelming joy. If it wasn't a hallucination, he could tell with absolute certainty that it was Chen Yan calling him. She had truly returned. He involuntarily took a step, turned the corner, and walked towards the direction from which the voice came.

Less than a hundred meters ahead was the third canteen. A low, single-story building stood exposed to the moonlight, dark and lifeless. Lin Han didn't stop; instead, his pace quickened as he approached the eerie building. Suddenly, a flickering light shone from one of the windows, like the darting gaze of a sinister figure.

The summoning continued, but no matter how close Lin Han was to the house, the sound remained distant and ethereal. Lin Han stood before the dilapidated, carved door, raised his arm, and was about to knock when the door opened automatically in front of him. Chen Yan's cold, beautiful face appeared through the crack in the door. A beam of moonlight shone on her face, enveloping it in a halo of blue light, making her appear holy and mysterious.

"Chen Yan, you... why are you back?" Lin Han's cheeks were burning hot, and her usually nimble tongue seemed to be tied in knots.

"We left something important behind," Chen Yan replied coldly, stepping aside to make way for a passage large enough for one person to pass through.

"Oh, right." Lin Han had just realized that the ethereal summoning voice abruptly stopped the moment he saw Chen Yan. "Was it you who summoned me just now?"

"What?" Chen Yan's bewildered expression was clearly genuine.

"Oh, no... nothing." Lin Han lowered his head and walked into the dim, flickering candlelight inside the room.

A musty, musty smell wafted through the air. As Lin Han had expected, several people—three men and three women—had already gathered in the empty, dilapidated house. They looked familiar, but he couldn't place their names. He politely nodded to them, but they only glanced at him and didn't react. He awkwardly looked away, glancing around. He noticed mirrors on both walls, but none were intact, and most of the mercury had peeled off—apparently old wall coverings.

Chen Yan closed the door and followed her in. She wore a white cotton coat, a white short skirt, and white knee-high boots, looking neat and tidy yet gentle. She glanced at her watch, her melancholy gaze lingering on everyone for a few seconds: "The game is about to begin. Anyone who wants to quit can leave now." Seeing that no one moved, she explained the rules of the game in detail.

This game requires no more than ten people, half men and half women. First, steam a bowl of white rice, preferably in an old, worn-out bowl. Then, kill a rooster and pour its blood into the rice until it reaches the rice level. Everyone forms a circle and walks around the rice, silently reciting: "Past spirits, please come and eat my food; if you eat my food, please relieve my suffering." Soon, the chicken blood will overflow from the bowl. Immediately, spread white paper on the ground, and everyone turns their backs. One person asks a question—anything is acceptable. After hearing the bowl break, that person can turn around and look at the contents of the paper, which are usually written in chicken blood.

Special attention should be paid to the following: the person asking the question should not turn around before the bowl breaks; after reading the contents of the paper, immediately go to the crossroads to burn it, and bury the bowl and grain deep in a shady place; do not let others see the contents of the paper, and do not reveal the contents of the paper; others should not peek at the contents of the paper.

"Did everyone hear me clearly?" Chen Yan asked after a pause, and everyone nodded silently. She said nothing more, walked around the candles on the ground, and went into the darkness. After a while, she came out carrying a medium-sized blue and white porcelain bowl. It was clear that the bowl was quite old, with some small black cracks appearing on the porcelain body.

Walking to the candle, Chen Yan bent down and placed the bowl on the ground. Lin Han saw that there was a bowl of steaming rice inside. Then, she pointed to a table in the shadows and turned to Lin Han: "Go and get the chicken and the white paper."

Lin Han responded with trepidation, then turned and went to the table to retrieve a large, bound rooster, a knife, and a large sheet of white paper. At Chen Yan's instruction, he cautiously killed the chicken, which was screaming in despair. He watched as the chicken's blood slowly stained the white rice, forcefully stopping the chicken's dying struggles, feeling life slowly slipping away in his hands.

5

As if it were preordained, the rooster bled dry the moment the chicken blood reached the level of the rice in the bowl. Without Chen Yan saying anything more, everyone automatically formed a circle according to the game rules, their eyes glazed, their steps mechanical, and they began silently chanting incantations as they circled the bowl. Lin Han followed along, feeling uneasy and uneasy.

The chicken blood in the bowl didn't react at all. It remained still until the seventh lap. Then, a surprising change occurred: with a slight hissing sound, the chicken blood slowly rose like a tide. Everyone stopped circling simultaneously. Except for Chen Yan and Lin Han, they all stared blankly at the bowl, expressionless.

Chen Yan calmly picked up a piece of white paper and placed it under the bowl. After she straightened up, everyone seemed to receive a silent command, turning around in unison to face away from the center of the circle. Chen Yan took a soft breath, her voice low and clear as she asked, "What will be the future of everyone present?"

In the brief moment of waiting for the sound of the bowl shattering, Lin Han, for reasons unknown, quickly looked into the broken mirror on the wall. That one glance sent a chill down his spine. In the center of the circle, several translucent humanoid shadows, drifting and floating, emerged from the ground and gathered around the bowl, their postures suggesting they were vying for the rice inside.

Lin Han's breathing quickened, and his feet involuntarily shifted forward. Unexpectedly, the rubber soles of his sneakers rubbed against the ground with a soft "squeak." Although the sound was faint, it still sent a chill down his spine and alerted a shadow in the circle. The shadow turned its thinning head, its face almost devoid of flesh, and its withered eyes stared at Lin Han's back. Two rows of rotten teeth slowly parted, revealing a sinister, ambiguous smile.

Just as Lin Han was about to give up, the blue-and-white porcelain bowl shattered with a "crack," and the hungry ghosts, fighting over the food, scurried into the ground as quickly as they had arrived. Chen Yan immediately turned around, glanced at the blood-stained white paper on the ground, on which a palm-sized character for "death" was scrawled crookedly. She said nothing, her expression unchanged, squatted down, pulled out the paper, and crumpled it into a ball.

This time, Lin Han picked up the bowls on the ground without Chen Yan's instruction. Led by Chen Yan, the group walked out of the third canteen, went around to the back of the building, and headed towards a small hill not far away, jokingly called "Norwegian Wood." There, the dense forest cast jagged shadows in the moonlight. The wind grew stronger and stronger, and the tall tree crowns rubbed against each other, making a chilling "rustling" sound.

At the foot of the mountain, a narrow, winding path leading uphill intersects with a concrete road running parallel to the mountain, forming a standard crossroads. In the center of the crossroads, Chen Yan stopped. One of her companions, a tall boy, pulled out a Zippo lighter and lit the blood-stained piece of white paper in her hand. The firelight illuminated her pale face. She coldly released her grip; the burning paper fell to the ground with a whoosh, the flames stretching long in the wind.

A cold wind instantly scattered the black ash on the ground, and embers that hadn't yet burned completely danced in the air. Chen Yan remained silent and continued walking up the mountain. The third canteen was on the south side of the mountain; to find a shady spot to bury the bowl, they would have to cross the mountain. Lin Han was somewhat puzzled. Since the third canteen faced south, its back should be the shady side. Why was Chen Yan going to such lengths, crossing mountains and valleys? However, he wouldn't ask, because he felt that under no circumstances should he doubt Chen Yan.

One by one, people entered the woods. The tall canopies blocked the moonlight, leaving only dappled patches of cool light on the ground where fallen leaves had settled. The wind rustled the trees, and those patches of light began to dance, like will-o'-the-wisps wandering through the forest. It was impossible to hear insects chirping on a winter night, but the complete absence of even night birdsong was quite strange.

As his eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light in the woods, Lin Han could clearly see Chen Yan's pale silhouette ahead. He followed closely, not daring to be careless for a moment. The footsteps behind him were also very disordered; it was clear that the six people were walking unsteadily.

Lin Han glanced at his watch furtively. It was 11:44 PM, and the hands of the luminous dial had stopped moving. He realized with a start that it wasn't his watch that was broken, but rather a sign that something was about to begin. There was no need to check his phone in his pocket anymore; it was definitely malfunctioning, and everyone else's phones were probably the same. He sighed inwardly, feeling a heavy burden weighing on his heart. He quickened his pace a few more steps. From this moment on, he would stay by Chen Yan's side at all times. Anyone could be in trouble, including himself, but he didn't want anything to happen to Chen Yan.