I didn't mean to scare you

Chapter 7

12

"This elevator is so slow! It's a broken-down old elevator and really needs to be replaced." A dark-skinned, thin middle-aged woman stood in the elevator lobby, watching the floor numbers change impatiently, and grumbled to herself.

"Sister Zhang, have you been waiting long?" A bespectacled man in his thirties walked in through the main door, dressed in an overly formal manner.

"Oh! Teacher Chen, working overtime again?" The middle-aged woman turned around and smiled brightly.

"Yes, I just got back from a home visit." The man pushed up his glasses. "The elevator's here."

The elevator creaked and groaned as it stopped on the first floor, its "ding" not crisp or clear. The two people in front of the elevator stopped talking and turned their anxious gazes to the elevator doors. The dirty, dull stainless steel doors, like a toothless, senile old man, slowly opened with a muffled creak. A strong, pungent odor instantly wafted out, filling the cramped elevator lobby.

A series of screams echoed through the night. The young security guard, brandishing a stick, rushed out of the guardhouse, only to be knocked off his feet by the middle-aged woman and the male teacher who tumbled out as well. Neither of them could answer his questions; their faces were pale with terror, and their fingers trembled violently as they pointed towards the elevator.

A stench of blood assaulted his nostrils, making the young security guard's stomach churn. He had a vague sense of unease, but driven by his duty as a security guard, he could only steel himself and step into the relatively dimly lit elevator lobby. The elevator doors were open, and the first thing he saw was a hand, its pale skin contrasting sharply with the dark red blood, lying across the door panels filled with flesh and blood about half an inch thick.

The scene inside the elevator was even more horrific. The originally dim yellow light had turned a sinister blood red, and fragments of flesh and blood covered every inch of the space. The exhaust fan above spun on its own, and drops of viscous blood flowed in long strands, falling into the pool of blood on the floor with a soft "plop." In the pool of blood, a woman's head, still relatively intact, lay there neatly. Her short hair was matted and tangled, and her deathly pale face wore an expression that was both a forced smile and utter terror. Most horrifying of all were her eyes, now just two bloody holes. The eyeballs, which should have been in their sockets, lay on the jagged edges of her neck, pupils facing upwards, staring intently at everything outside the elevator.

With a loud "whoosh," the young security guard could no longer hold back and vomited up all his stomach contents, but he continued to vomit bitter bile. Anyone who witnessed this scene will likely be haunted by nightmares for the rest of their lives. The alerted police arrived at the scene, investigated for a long time, but ultimately found no trace of the perpetrator and hastily closed their case.

The next morning, Lin Han was still immersed in the gentle embrace of his dreams when he was violently shaken awake. He opened his sleepy eyes and saw Zhang Yiyang's face, filled with fear. He smacked his lips and frowned, "What is it?"

“Zhao…Zhao Na is dead too.” Zhang Yiyang’s voice trembled.

"Which Zhao Na?" Lin Han yawned widely and sat up.

"Who else? The Three Beauties, peerless beauties."

"Huh? Really?"

Zhang Yiyang nodded vigorously: "Even more tragic than... Qu Muxue's death. I suspect that... game..."

"A game?" Lin Han was startled, recalling the three victims from the last game. "Where's Chen Yan? Have you gone to look for her?"

"I went there, but she wasn't...at home."

"Isn't there Wang Xinxin too?" Lin Han quickly dressed and got out of bed. "Wait for me, let's go to the mental hospital to find her together."

Skipping the third and fourth periods of English class in the morning was a certainty; that exaggerated English teacher would probably unleash another torrent of abuse on Lin Han and Zhang Yiyang, those two "bad boys." In the current situation, they couldn't care less about that. Sitting on the bus, looking at the golden sunlight outside the window, Lin Han's heart clenched with fear.

On the way, Lin Han thought of an online friend who worked as a nurse at the city's mental hospital. He called her, saying he was just visiting a friend. The car picked up Lin Han and Zhang Yiyang at the hospital entrance and drove off, swaying precariously. The female online friend, whose username was "Only I Am Awake," was lingering at the gate. When she saw Lin Han, she jogged over to greet him.

After giving a brief introduction to Zhang Yiyang and Wei Wo Du Xing, Lin Han got straight to the point: "We've come to see a classmate, her name is Wang Xinxin, she..."

"Wang Xinxin?" Wei Wo Du Xing exclaimed in surprise, interrupting Lin Han's words, his face drained of color.

"Wh...what's wrong?" Zhang Yiyang suddenly tensed up, his lips trembling nervously.

"Don't you know? She's dead, and her death was horribly tragic." Only I Am Awake recounted Wang Xinxin's death to the two boys in fits and starts. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, his face even paler than his white uniform.

Having said goodbye to the one who was always awake, Lin Han and Zhang Yiyang returned to school, dejected. In the quiet dormitory, only their heavy breathing could be heard. Suddenly, Lin Han stood up, ignoring Zhang Yiyang's questions, and rushed out, winding through the streets until he arrived at Chen Yan's rented room off-campus. Despite the bright sunshine, the old, dilapidated house, shaded by trees, remained hidden in cold shadows, as if existing in a completely different world from its surroundings.

13

With a sense of unease, Lin Han walked into the shady grove. He raised his hand, knuckles bent, about to knock when the door opened. Chen Yan, carrying a backpack, seemed to be heading out. Seeing Lin Han, she paused for a moment, then quickly reverted to her usual expressionless indifference.

"You...didn't go to class either?" Seeing Chen Yan, Lin Han suddenly felt that he had become tongue-tied.

"Something came up, so I had to take the day off." Chen Yan maintained her usual demeanor, pursing her lips without uttering a single unnecessary word.

"Did you know that all three peerless beauties are dead?"

"Are they all dead? I don't know," Chen Yan replied calmly. "You came to me just to tell me this?"

"No...I...I was worried about you." Under Chen Yan's melancholy gaze, Lin Han became increasingly flustered.

"I'm afraid there's more than that, isn't there?" Beneath the deep melancholy in Chen Yan's eyes, a sharp glint flashed.

Lin Han felt a surge of embarrassment, as if his deepest secret had been exposed, and his cheeks flushed slightly: "I... I want to know... oh, no. The deaths of everyone..."

"Was it me who did this?" When Chen Yan asked this, Lin Han seemed to see a fleeting look of weariness on her face. He found it strange and couldn't understand why she would have such an expression.

"You've misunderstood. I only have doubts about those games. Where did you find the gameplay information for those games?"

"Online." Chen Yan answered simply, then walked out from behind the door and closed it behind her. "I have something urgent. If you don't have any other questions, I..."

"Uh...you...be careful these next few days, that game is wicked. I have a feeling this isn't over yet, I just don't know who'll be next." Lin Han spoke with genuine sincerity, his worry evident in his words. Chen Yan probably noticed this too; the frost on her face softened slightly, and she gave him a calm smile. Then, she lowered her head, left him, and walked away.

Chen Yan's rare smile thrilled Lin Han, and he didn't come to his senses until her figure disappeared around the corner. He hurried after her, but she was nowhere to be found in the crowded street. Feeling lost, he put his hands in his jeans pockets and slowly walked back to his dormitory.

The dormitory was empty. Everyone else was still in get out of class, and Zhang Yiyang was nowhere to be seen. Lin Han lay down on the bed, his arms behind his head. The image of Chen Yan's faint smile kept flashing through his mind. The fear of the unknown faded; who would be next? That question no longer seemed important.

In the afternoon class, Lin Han deliberately sat in the last row, just across the aisle from Chen Yan. He used his book to cover his face, his sidelong glance never leaving Chen Yan beside him. Chen Yan seemed oblivious, or perhaps she sensed it but chose not to pay attention; in any case, she listened attentively and took notes throughout the entire class.

Zhang Yiyang didn't show up all afternoon, and he wasn't seen in the dormitory after class either. After dinner, Xiao Zijie and Zhou Mo went to the library for evening self-study, while Lin Han sat at his desk, reading a collection of suspenseful short stories from Black Cat Publishing House. Not long after Xiao Zijie and the others left, Zhang Yiyang returned, looking quite well.

Lin Han didn't move; he was completely absorbed in the exciting plot of the novel. Zhang Yiyang went straight to his desk, leaned over opposite him, and mysteriously pulled out a yellow triangular object: "Lin Han, I found a master this afternoon and got two talismans. Here, take these; wearing them will ward off evil."

"A talisman?" Lin Han put down his book, took the object, and examined it from all angles. "You believe in this?"

“I didn’t believe it at first, but didn’t you notice how strange their deaths were?” Zhang Yiyang stared into Lin Han’s eyes. “This afternoon, Master also said that we were haunted by something evil. He said that if we wore this talisman for forty-nine days, we could turn the danger into safety. You really have to believe it. After carrying this, I feel much better.”

Thinking that Zhang Yiyang meant well, Lin Han said "thank you" and put the talisman into his chest pocket. Zhang Yiyang snapped his fingers, took off his coat and threw it on the bed, then walked towards the bathroom: "Oh, by the way, remember to put it under your pillow when you sleep tonight."

Zhang Yiyang closed the bathroom door, whistling as he soaked his feet in hot water. After emptying the dirty water, he went to the sink and filled it with water to wash his face. The rising steam obscured the mirror in front of him. He continued whistling, playing his favorite song, Eason Chan's "Under Mount Fuji." Seeing that the water was almost gone, he turned off the tap, bent down, scooped up a handful of hot water, and splashed it on his face.

"Knock, knock, knock"—someone was knocking on the bathroom door. Zhang Yiyang, his face covered in face wash foam, smacked his lips and mumbled, "Almost there." Hesitantly, the knocking continued three more times. This time he ignored it, immersing his entire face in the sink. The knocking stopped. He closed his eyes, looked up, and reached for the towel hanging beside him.

Wiping the water droplets from his face, Zhang Yiyang felt his skin tighten and felt a little uncomfortable. He opened his eyes and glanced at the towel in his hand. Why had the towel turned red? His heart sank, and he subconsciously looked at the foggy mirror. His face was vaguely reflected in the mirror, but it was clearly red, a shocking blood red.

"Ugh—" Zhang Yiyang groaned, looking down at the sink. The basin was overflowing, but it wasn't water; it was clearly a basin of blood, a dark, viscous, bloody mess. He abruptly threw down the towel, his mouth agape, too terrified to utter a sound, and simply kept backing away until his back slammed against the wall, leaving him with nowhere to retreat.

Amitabha! Allah! God protect! Zhang Yiyang's eyelids were stuck together in extreme fear. He mentally summoned every deity he could think of, hoping to drive away evil. For a long time, nothing happened. He cautiously opened his eyes, his gaze slowly shifting towards the washbasin.

There was no red, no blood, just a pool of dirty water, slightly murky. Zhang Yiyang's panic turned into surprise, but he still dared not be careless, much less approach the sink. He turned sideways, opened the bathroom door, and stepped out.

14

Lin Han had already sat on the bed with the book in her hand, oblivious to Zhang Yiyang's unease. Zhang Yiyang didn't say anything either, kicked off his shoes, climbed onto the bed, took out the talisman from his coat pocket, gripped it with both hands, and pressed it hard against his chest.

Zhang Yiyang hadn't slept well all night; his dream was filled with flowing red, eerily strange. Waking in the morning light, he couldn't recall anything else in his dream besides red. Having safely passed the night, he secretly thanked the wise man and carefully put away the talisman, thinking that as long as forty-nine days passed, everything would be fine, even though that seemed a bit long.

The next day, during the break between two classes, Zhang Yiyang found a moment and hesitantly moved to Chen Yan's desk. He took out a talisman folded into a triangle and handed it to Chen Yan: "Take this, it can ward off evil."

Chen Yan didn't say a word. She looked up at Zhang Yiyang, then at the talisman in her hand, tucked it between the pages of her book, and continued burying herself in it. Zhang Yiyang looked a little embarrassed. Seeing that it wasn't convenient to say anything more, he turned and left dejectedly. He didn't, and didn't want to, tell Lin Han about the third talisman; the reason was obvious.

The day passed peacefully, and night inevitably fell. Only Lin Han and Zhang Yiyang remained in the dormitory. They chatted idly, each absorbed in their own activities. Soon, Lin Han felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He grabbed a book and rushed to the bathroom. Zhang Yiyang, meanwhile, sat at the computer, engrossed in playing a single-player version of Counter-Strike. Everything seemed perfectly natural.

After easily eliminating several hidden Middle Eastern terrorists and rescuing the hostages, Zhang Yiyang successfully completed the level. Just as he entered the second level, the computer screen suddenly went black. Furious, he slammed his fist on the table: "Damn this damn computer!" Despite his curses, he didn't dare to do anything rash to his most valuable possession. After waiting a while, the computer didn't immediately restart as it usually did when the screen went black. Quite surprised, he was about to bend down to check the computer case when his gaze was fixed on the screen, and his expression shifted from anger to fear.

A figure appeared on the computer screen, or more precisely, behind Zhang Yiyang's image. Only a head was visible, a head covered by long hair. Zhang Yiyang's entire body was cold and stiff, the hairs on his neck standing on end. He mustered his courage and turned his stiff neck, trying to see what was behind him. His cervical spine made a "crackling" sound, stimulating his eardrums, which were amplified by his heartbeat.

He finally turned his head. Behind him, there was nothing. Zhang Yiyang didn't pause for a moment, quickly turning his head back. On the black computer screen, only his distorted face remained, cold sweat glistening on his skin. He closed his eyes slightly, exhaled a breath of stale air, and attributed the terrifying scene to his own imagination.

But no sooner had he reached this conclusion than Zhang Yiyang began to doubt his own senses. He felt a heavy pressure on his legs, which were resting under the table, as if someone had placed something on them. More importantly, the thing was moving, moving towards his abdomen. He really didn't want to look, but terror insisted on pulling his gaze downwards. A woman's head rested on his lap. She was a stranger, yet extremely beautiful, with a classical beauty, as if untouched by worldly concerns.

Holy crap! There's a beautiful woman on the computer too? Zhang Yiyang's fear was instantly replaced by lust. He thought of the many stories in *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio* about encounters with female ghosts in ancient temples—something he had always dreamed of. As the saying goes, "To die beneath a peony is to die a romantic death, even as a ghost." Maybe tonight, he, Zhang Yiyang, could become the male lead in *A Chinese Ghost Story*.

Lost in thought, the woman stood up. She wore a long white dress, tall and alluring. Zhang Yiyang's breathing became labored. His ardent gaze roamed over her most sensitive areas. The woman seemed unfazed, instead smiling sweetly at him. At this, his desire surged intensely, a rush of heat shooting down his abdomen. His mind, consumed by lust, couldn't think straight. He jumped up and pulled the woman into his arms.

The woman's body was cold, like ice water, instantly extinguishing Zhang's rising lust. It seemed only then that he came to his senses, trying to push her away, but it was too late. The woman's arms encircled his neck, her smile turning sinister, her beautiful eyes filled with chilling coldness. At the same time, her face rapidly changed. Countless ugly cracks appeared on her once fair and smooth skin, from which foul-smelling blood seeped continuously.

Such a beautiful face, under Zhang Yiyang's horrified gaze, gradually decayed, finally turning into a skull with only two enormous eyeballs remaining. The skull, so close, still grinned, revealing its two rows of white teeth, laughing incessantly, yet without a sound. Gradually, the skull became translucent, disappearing into Zhang Yiyang's body. Zhang Yiyang felt a surge of energy gathering within his internal organs, constantly expanding, and his body began to convulse uncontrollably.

At this moment, Lin Han, exhausted from the ordeal, emerged from the restroom and immediately witnessed Zhang Yiyang's inexplicable behavior. He opened his mouth to call out to Zhang Yiyang, but Zhang Yiyang turned his head at a strange angle and gave him a smile. It was a smile no human could possess, chilling and sinister, the corners of his mouth stretched all the way to his ears. A wave of immense fear instantly froze him in place, unable to move.

The smile came quickly and went even faster. Zhang Yiyang's convulsions turned into violent shaking, with cracking sounds coming from his joints. As soon as the sounds stopped, he mechanically walked step by step towards the computer. Lin Han couldn't believe it; in his blurry, tearful eyes, he saw resentment, resistance, and immense despair, as if everything his body was doing was not what his heart desired.

"Yi Yang, what...what are you doing? Stop!" Lin Han's heart skipped a beat as Zhang Yi Yang pulled two pieces of wire from behind the computer case, as if he realized something. He wanted to shout, but could only move his lips; no sound came out. Zhang Yi Yang sat cross-legged at the desk, struggling to lift the two pieces of wire. Tears rolled down his reddened eyes; his pleading eyes were filled with a desperate longing for life.

A short scream was replaced by the crackling of sparks from an electric wire. Zhang Yiyang's arms finally clenched involuntarily, the exposed copper wires from the electrical outlet poking his temples. The smell of burning was strong and pungent, like unseasoned roasted meat. In the flickering light, his exposed skin rapidly blackened and peeled. The instant the light went out, several blue flames burst forth from his body with a "poof," the flames roaring and spreading rapidly.

15

The sudden power outage in the boys' dormitory caused an uproar. There were angry shouts, excited cries, and a considerable number of whistles, as if eager to stir up trouble. The entire building was plunged into chaos.

Only then did Lin Han realize that the power of fear that had been pressing down on him had completely vanished. He let out a shrill howl, collapsed to the ground, and a sharp pain in his tailbone immediately spread throughout his body.

The blaring sirens further fueled the panic in the school. All the police officers were shocked by Zhang Yiyang's horrific death; aside from the corpses of those who had committed suicide by self-immolation on television, they had never witnessed such a tragic suicide in real life.

When the police were taking Lin Han's statement, for some unknown reason, he concealed the fact that he was playing the game. After giving his statement, he fell ill with a persistent high fever, delirious and incoherent, his ramblings consisting of only two things—Chen Yan and the game. Three days later, his fever finally subsided, and exhausted from the illness, he slept fitfully for a whole day. During this time, he dreamt of Chen Yan, still pure and beautiful, but with an even deeper melancholy in her eyes, as if she were worried about his health.

When Lin Han woke up, it was already completely dark. He suddenly noticed a bouquet of white lilies on his bedside table, quietly blooming beautifully and releasing their fragrance. Tucked among the lilies was a small card, pinkish-purple in color, with a cover featuring a comic strip by Jimmy Liao. He reached out and picked up the card; a familiar, faint fragrance stimulated his olfactory senses.

Lin Han took a deep breath; he already knew who had sent the flowers. But he couldn't contain his excitement. He carefully opened the card, and a line of neat handwriting caught his eye—"Wishing you a speedy recovery," signed "Chen Yan." He closed the card, pressing it tightly to his chest, his heart slowly filling with happiness.

Too many things happened this semester, and the school let out for break early. When Lin Han was discharged from the hospital and returned to school, Chen Yan was already gone. All the terrible things seemed to have ended because of Zhang Yiyang's death. Lin Han carried his luggage, walking further and further away from the small house Chen Yan rented in the cold wind. He thought dejectedly that he still didn't know that melancholy and aloof girl. He didn't know her background, didn't know where she lived, and didn't even have her phone number.

Dark Forest

1

The sky was a deep, clear blue. Nearby, the bare branches of trees were cut into countless irregular geometric shapes. The sun was shining brightly, but there was a breeze, so the temperature was imperceptible.