"For the sake of the child's future recovery and your personal safety, please exercise extreme caution in your actions moving forward," the voice on the phone urged with a tone heavy with concern.
Chen Ge nodded silently, his throat tight with acknowledgment. "I understand," he replied, his voice steady but betraying the weight of the conversation.
After ending the call, Chen Ge pressed his back against the cold, tiled wall of the second-floor toilet at Mu Yang High School. His mind churned, a tangled web of thoughts and suspicions that refused to unravel. The warning echoed in his ears, amplifying his unease. If Fan Yu was not the killer, as the evidence seemed to suggest, then the finger of suspicion pointed squarely at Fan Yu's aunt. They were the only two who could be considered prime suspects, yet they were also the closest family to the victims. The paradox gnawed at him, deepening the mystery. Every lead seemed to loop back to them, but the truth remained elusive, shrouded in questions that had no clear answers.
In any case, Chen Ge was certain of one thing: Fan Yu's aunt was concealing something significant. There had to be more to the events of that fateful rainy night years ago, a hidden truth buried beneath layers of secrecy. The details of that night were murky, fragmented like a half-remembered dream, but Chen Ge's instincts told him that whatever had transpired was pivotal to unraveling the case. The aunt's reticence, her guarded demeanor, only fueled his suspicion that she was withholding a critical piece of the puzzle, one that could unlock the mystery of the tragedy that had unfolded.
The notion that the victims' closest family members could be their killers was a chilling enigma that left Chen Ge confounded. How could such a betrayal come from those bound by blood and trust? The contradiction weighed heavily on him, stirring a mix of dread and determination. He couldn't shake the feeling that the truth was close, yet maddeningly out of reach, hidden in the shadows of this abandoned school. The very idea of such a twisted betrayal seemed to defy reason, yet it was the only thread he had to follow in this labyrinth of uncertainty.
The crime scene was located at Mu Yang High School, and Chen Ge was convinced that somewhere within its darkened halls lay the clues he needed to piece together the truth. The school, with its eerie silence and oppressive atmosphere, seemed to hold secrets in every corner, waiting to be uncovered. Perhaps an overlooked detail—a forgotten note, a hidden mark, or some remnant of that rainy night—could shed light on the mystery. With renewed resolve, Chen Ge decided that his next step was to search the school thoroughly, starting with the areas most likely to hold traces of the past.
Chen Ge reactivated his livestream, the faint glow of his phone screen cutting through the dimness of the toilet. The chat was still plagued by lag, messages stuttering across the screen, but the video quality had improved significantly, offering a clearer view of his surroundings. He offered a brief, sincere apology to his viewers for the interruption, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. Gripping his mallet tightly—a reassuring weight in his hand—he stepped out of the second-floor toilet and into the corridor. He stood at the threshold, sweeping his flashlight across the floor, searching for any sign of disturbance. To his surprise, the beam revealed nothing—no footprints, no scuff marks, just the dusty, untouched surface of the abandoned school.
When he had been hiding behind the toilet door earlier, Chen Ge was certain he had heard footsteps, distinct and deliberate, echoing in the stillness. They had paused just outside the toilet entrance, as if whoever—or whatever—made them was listening, waiting. Yet the absence of footprints on the floor sent a chill down his spine. It suggested something unnatural, something beyond the realm of the living. The realization hit him hard: the owners of those footsteps were likely not human. He glanced down the staircase, recalling that the sounds had continued downward after stopping briefly. The darkness below seemed to pulse with an unseen presence, and he felt a prickle of unease at the thought of what might be lurking there.
Uncertainty gnawed at Chen Ge as he considered whether those footsteps belonged to the mysterious red shadow referenced in the mission details. The shadow was an enigma, a spectral figure tied to the school's dark history, but he had no concrete proof it was connected to what he'd heard. For the sake of his safety, he decided to err on the side of caution and avoid the lower floors for now. Brandishing his flashlight like a weapon, its beam cutting through the oppressive gloom, Chen Ge made his way toward the third floor. But as he reached the landing between the second and third floors, the sound of footsteps returned, sharp and unmistakable, reverberating through the empty stairwell.
The footsteps seemed to originate from the first floor, steady and rhythmic, as if two entities were walking side by side, slowly ascending the stairs. The sound grew louder, closer, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Chen Ge's veins. Had they detected his presence? The thought sent his heart racing. Without hesitation, he switched off his flashlight, plunging himself into near darkness, and pressed his body against the cold wall of the stairwell. His eyes locked onto the mouth of the staircase, straining to catch any glimpse of movement in the shadows below. Every muscle tensed, ready for whatever might emerge from the gloom.
The footsteps continued unabated, reaching the second floor without pause. Chen Ge's ears caught a new sound—the faint creak of cubicle doors being opened in the second-floor toilet. One by one, the doors swung open, six in total, as if someone—or something—was methodically checking each stall. The deliberate nature of the search sent a shiver through him. Were they looking for him? His mind raced, piecing together the implications. The sounds suggested a purposeful investigation, as if the entities knew someone was nearby and were determined to find them.
As the sound of the cubicle doors ceased, so too did the footsteps, leaving an oppressive silence in their wake. Chen Ge held his breath, his senses heightened, waiting for any indication of movement. It was as if the sounds had been a figment of his imagination, conjured by the eerie atmosphere of the school. He lingered on the stairs for five long minutes, his heart pounding in his chest, but no further noises came from the second-floor toilet. The silence was almost worse than the footsteps, heavy with the promise of something lurking just out of sight.
The absence of footsteps now convinced Chen Ge that whatever had been moving was still inside the second-floor toilet, likely concealed within one of the cubicles. He pictured them waiting, motionless, ready to spring an ambush if he dared to return. Despite his courage, the thought of a spectral figure leaping out from a dark stall sent a ripple of fear through him. His heart was strong, but he was not immune to the primal dread of the unknown. A surprise encounter in the confined space of the toilet could shake even his resolve, and he wasn't willing to take that risk just yet.
With the spirits—or whatever they were—likely stationed in the second-floor toilet, Chen Ge saw an opportunity to explore the third floor undisturbed. He chose not to turn on his flashlight, relying instead on his enhanced night vision, a gift from completing a Nightmare Mission. The ability, known as Yin Yang Vision, wasn't as supernatural as the black phone had promised, but it significantly sharpened his sight in low-light conditions, allowing him to navigate the darkened corridors with greater ease than most. He moved cautiously, his mallet still gripped tightly, ready to swing at a moment's notice.
In the pitch-black night, occasional flashes of thunder illuminated the sky, casting brief, stark light across the abandoned school. Each burst revealed glimpses of the dilapidated surroundings—cracked walls, scattered debris, and the faint outlines of old furniture. The fleeting illumination created an eerie, almost surreal atmosphere, as if the school itself was alive, watching him. Chen Ge's heart thudded with every flash, half-expecting to see something—or someone—standing in the shadows, revealed by the lightning's cruel clarity. He steeled himself, knowing that one misstep in this haunted place could mean facing something he wasn't prepared to see.
Chen Ge stood at the threshold of the third-floor toilet, his gaze darting left and right, scanning the darkened corridor for any sign of movement. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint drip of a distant leak. His heart thudded in his chest as he gripped his mallet tightly, its weight a small comfort against the unknown. The entrance to the toilet loomed before him, a dark maw that seemed to invite him into its secrets. After several cautious glances to ensure he was alone, Chen Ge took a deep breath and stepped inside, his footsteps echoing faintly on the tiled floor, each sound amplifying the eerie stillness of the abandoned school.
The third-floor toilet was strikingly different from those on the lower levels, its peculiarities immediately catching Chen Ge's attention. Unlike the first and second-floor toilets, which bore the scars of neglect and decay, this one seemed oddly preserved, almost frozen in time. The solitary window was boarded up with weathered planks, blocking out any trace of moonlight or the occasional flash of thunder. The walls, remarkably, were unstained, free of the grime and graffiti that marred the rest of the school. It was as if this room had been abandoned long before the school itself was shuttered, sealed off from the world and left untouched. The air felt heavy, thick with an unnatural stillness that made Chen Ge's skin prickle, as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for something—or someone.
Every single one of the six cubicles in the third-floor toilet was closed, their doors shut tight, exuding an aura of secrecy that sent a shiver down Chen Ge's spine. The sight of those closed doors filled him with an uneasy premonition, as if each one concealed a terrifying surprise, lying in wait to spring upon him. He couldn't shake the memory of the first-floor toilet, where the fifth and sixth cubicles had been used as storage for cleaning supplies, their doors locked to hide mops and brooms. Could this be a similar situation, or was something far more sinister hiding behind these doors? The uncertainty gnawed at him, his imagination conjuring images of ghostly figures or worse, lurking just out of sight. He stood frozen for a moment, weighing his options, the mallet in his hand feeling heavier with each passing second.
Chen Ge approached the first cubicle with measured steps, his senses on high alert. He leaned close to the door, pressing his ear against the cold surface, straining to catch any sound from within. He half-expected to hear the soft crying of a baby or the eerie giggles of a young girl, sounds that would confirm the supernatural presence he feared. But there was nothing—just an unsettling silence that seemed to mock his anticipation. Summoning his courage, he did something even bolder: he knelt on the dusty floor and peered through the narrow gap at the bottom of the door. His heart pounded as he braced himself for what he might see, his mind racing with possibilities—perhaps a pair of ghostly legs or a shadowy figure. But the cubicle was empty, devoid of any signs of life or the supernatural.
To his surprise, the cubicle was not only empty but pristine, almost unnaturally so. There were no random items like cleaning supplies, no mops or brooms cluttering the space, just a bare, unremarkable toilet stall. Chen Ge rose to his feet and gently pushed the door, which swung open with ease, revealing the interior in full. The cubicle was immaculate, its surfaces covered in a thin layer of dust that suggested it hadn't been touched in years. If not for that dust, he could have sworn the place was cleaned daily, its cleanliness a stark contrast to the dilapidated state of the rest of the school. The anomaly puzzled him, raising more questions than answers. Why was this one room so well-preserved when the rest of the building bore the scars of neglect and decay?
The realization struck Chen Ge as he stood in the doorway, his mind piecing together the clues. The entire education block of Mu Yang High School looked as though it had been ravaged by a fire, its walls charred and its corridors littered with debris. Yet this third-floor toilet, like the mysterious classroom on the first floor, showed no signs of burning or damage. The similarity was too striking to be a coincidence, and it solidified Chen Ge's conviction that this toilet was the mission venue described by the black phone. The untouched state of the room, its eerie cleanliness, and its isolation from the rest of the school all pointed to it being a focal point for the supernatural events tied to his quest. This was no ordinary place—it was a stage set for the mystery he was meant to unravel.
Chen Ge methodically pushed open the other cubicle doors, each one revealing a similarly pristine interior, until he reached the fifth cubicle. A wave of dread washed over him as he stood before it, an inexplicable sense of foreboding tightening his chest. Could there be a horrific surprise waiting behind this door, something far worse than he had encountered so far? His hand instinctively brushed against the doll tucked inside his shirt pocket, its presence a small reassurance against the unknown. Gripping his mallet firmly, he used its handle to nudge the door open, bracing himself for what he might find. The door creaked as it swung inward, and what Chen Ge saw inside made him stagger back, his breath catching in his throat.
The interior of the fifth cubicle was covered in drawings of eyes, each one meticulously sketched on every available surface—walls, door, even the ceiling. The eyes were disturbingly lifelike, their sizes mimicking those of real human eyes, staring out with an intensity that felt almost sentient. Chen Ge's heart raced as he took in the surreal sight, his mind struggling to process the sheer number of eyes watching him. Before opening the door, he had prepared himself for a range of horrors—a pale-faced girl, a grotesque monster, or a blood-soaked madman—but nothing could have prepared him for this. The sight was not overtly terrifying, yet it carried a deeply unsettling weight, as if the eyes were alive, tracking his every move.
The discovery sent a cold shiver down Chen Ge's spine, his legs trembling as he stood just outside the cubicle. The countless eyes seemed to bore into him, their unblinking gazes creating a suffocating sense of being watched. He could only imagine how much worse it would feel to step inside, to be surrounded by those relentless stares. The thought alone was enough to make his skin crawl, his instincts screaming at him to retreat. Who could have created such a disturbing display, and what was their purpose? The question echoed in his mind, each pair of eyes seeming to hold a secret, a silent accusation that he couldn't yet decipher. The cubicle felt like a trap, a place where the boundary between the living and the dead blurred.
The sheer number of eyes felt invasive, as if they were designed to spy on anyone who entered the cubicle, stripping away any sense of privacy or safety. Chen Ge's hands shook as he hurriedly slammed the door shut, desperate to escape the oppressive weight of those drawn gazes. Even though they were mere drawings, the sensation of being watched lingered, clinging to him like a shadow. He took a moment to steady his breathing, his mind racing to make sense of the discovery. The eyes were not just a decoration—they were a message, a clue to the horrors that had unfolded in this school, perhaps tied to the red shadow or the tragedy of Fan Yu's family.
Chen Ge's mission had led him to this unsettling venue, but the path forward was unclear. The black phone's instructions had guided him to this toilet, but how was he supposed to proceed? Was he expected to hide inside the fifth cubicle, surrounded by those eerie, watchful eyes, waiting for the red shadow to appear? The thought was almost unbearable, the idea of sitting in that confined space under the scrutiny of countless drawn gazes filling him with dread. The mission felt like it was pushing him to the edge of his courage, demanding a level of bravery that even he wasn't sure he possessed. He stood frozen, staring at the closed door, the weight of the task pressing down on him.
Hesitantly, Chen Ge moved to the sixth cubicle, his hand trembling as he reached for the door. A part of him dreaded what he might find, fearing a repeat of the unsettling discovery in the fifth cubicle. When he pushed the door open, his worst fears were confirmed: the sixth cubicle was also covered in drawings of eyes, identical in their lifelike detail and chilling presence. The sight sent a fresh wave of unease through him, his mind reeling at the implications. Why were these two cubicles marked in such a bizarre, obsessive manner? The eyes seemed to follow him, their silent judgment amplifying the eerie atmosphere of the third-floor toilet. Chen Ge stood there, caught between fear and determination, knowing that the answers he sought were tied to these unsettling drawings, but unsure if he was ready to face what they might reveal.