Chen Ge stood frozen in the sixth cubicle, his nerves rattled by the unsettling discovery of the single painted wall covered in eye drawings. The sheer oddity of it gnawed at him, the lifelike gazes seeming to follow his every move. To confirm his suspicions, he retreated to the fourth cubicle, his footsteps cautious on the dusty tiles. As he pushed open the door, his hunch was proven correct: the fourth cubicle was starkly normal, its walls bare of any doodles or markings. The contrast was jarring, amplifying the mystery of the fifth and sixth cubicles. Could this be a mere prank, a relic of mischievous students from the school's past? But why target only the fifth and sixth cubicles, bypassing the first or last? The randomness of the choice felt deliberate, as if the drawings held a deeper significance tied to the dark history of Mu Yang High School. Chen Ge's mind raced, piecing together the puzzle, his unease growing with every unanswered question.
Determined to uncover the truth, Chen Ge steeled himself and returned to the sixth cubicle, his heart pounding as he crossed the threshold. He hesitated at the entrance, the oppressive atmosphere of the confined space pressing down on him. The sixth cubicle was noticeably smaller than the others, its walls cramped by a tangle of exposed water pipes that snaked through the space, making it feel claustrophobic. The air was damp, carrying a faint metallic tang from the pipes, and the dim light from his flashlight cast eerie shadows that seemed to dance across the eye-covered walls. He scanned the cubicle carefully, searching for any clue that might explain the drawings, but nothing stood out—no hidden objects, no marks beyond the eyes themselves. The question lingered in his mind: did the mission require him to enter the fifth cubicle, the one with the identical unsettling drawings, to trigger the next step? The thought of stepping into that gaze-filled space sent a shiver through him, but he knew he couldn't back down now.
Chen Ge turned his attention to the eye drawings on the sixth cubicle's walls, their unblinking stares seeming to mock his hesitation. They look terrifying, but they're just drawings, he reminded himself, trying to quell the unease that gripped him. He stood locked in a silent staring contest with the painted eyes, their lifelike quality unnerving him the longer he looked. The fourth cubicle's normalcy stood in stark contrast to the fifth and sixth, which were both adorned with these eerie illustrations. What made these two cubicles unique? His gaze drifted to the partition wall separating the fifth and sixth cubicles, the one surface covered on both sides with the same obsessive drawings. A theory began to form in his mind, a chilling possibility that the eyes were more than just a creepy decoration. They were a clue, a deliberate marker pointing to something hidden within the cubicle's walls.
As the idea took shape, Chen Ge ran his finger slowly across the drawings, tracing the outlines of the eyes with deliberate care. His touch was tentative, as if the drawings might come to life under his fingertips. When his finger reached an eye positioned near his knees, something felt off—a subtle difference in texture that made his heart skip a beat. His expression shifted, a mix of realization and dread, as he squatted down and aimed his flashlight at the spot. There, hidden among the countless drawn eyes, was a peephole, its size perfectly mimicking a human pupil. The hole had been expertly carved into the partition, blending seamlessly with the surrounding drawings, its placement in the corner making it nearly impossible to notice without close inspection. The discovery sent a jolt through him, confirming his worst suspicions about the cubicle's purpose.
It is as I predicted! Chen Ge's mind raced as he examined the peephole, his flashlight casting a narrow beam through the tiny opening. The realization hit him hard: all the other eye drawings were a deliberate ruse, designed to camouflage this single, real peephole. It connected the fifth and sixth cubicles, allowing someone in the sixth to spy on whoever was inside the fifth. The thought was deeply unsettling, conjuring images of a hidden observer watching in secret, their presence undetected. The precision of the peephole's placement, disguised among the drawings, suggested a calculated mind at work, someone who had planned this invasion of privacy with chilling intent. Chen Ge's stomach churned as he imagined the violation, the unseen eyes that had once peered through this hole, watching their unsuspecting victim.
The realization that one of the "eyes" was real sent a fresh wave of unease through Chen Ge. Among the countless drawn gazes, this single peephole stood out as a sinister anomaly, a window into a dark secret. The sixth cubicle's cramped design, with its maze of water pipes, provided the perfect cover for a Peeping Tom. By climbing onto the pipes, the observer could remain hidden, even if someone checked under the door for signs of feet. The setup was meticulously planned, every detail considered to ensure the voyeur's secrecy. The thought of someone lurking in the shadows, watching through that tiny hole, made Chen Ge's skin crawl, the violation of privacy feeling almost palpable in the stale air of the cubicle.
The sensation of being watched in the dark, even now, made Chen Ge profoundly uncomfortable, as if the peephole itself was staring back at him. He stepped back, his grip tightening on the mallet, its weight a grounding force against the rising tide of dread. The mission description echoed in his mind, particularly the mention of the red shadow and the events tied to the fifth cubicle. Could the victim of this Peeping Tom, the person who had been spied on from the sixth cubicle, be connected to the red shadow? The possibility sent a chill through him, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to align in a way that felt both horrifying and inevitable. The peephole was not just a creepy discovery—it was a key to understanding the tragedy that had unfolded in this school.
With the secret of the fifth cubicle uncovered, Chen Ge grappled with the next step of the mission. Did he have to stay inside the fifth cubicle, surrounded by those oppressive eye drawings, waiting for the red shadow to appear and spy on him through the peephole? The thought was almost unbearable, the idea of sitting in that confined space, knowing someone—or something—might be watching, filled him with a visceral sense of dread. He waved his mallet through the air, a defiant gesture born of frustration and fear. If the red shadow did appear, he was prepared to fight back, to smash its gaze into oblivion if necessary. The mission's demands felt like a cruel test, pushing him to confront not just the supernatural but his own limits of courage.
Just as Chen Ge was wrestling with how to proceed, the sound of footsteps erupted in the corridor outside, sharp and urgent, racing toward the third floor. The sudden noise jolted him, his heart leaping into his throat as the steps grew louder, closer, their pace more frantic than before. What's happening? he thought, his mind scrambling for answers. The footsteps were different now, charged with a sense of purpose that hadn't been there earlier. Had opening the fifth cubicle triggered something, alerting whatever was out there to his presence? But that didn't make sense—he had opened the cubicle minutes ago, so why the sudden urgency now? The inconsistency gnawed at him, adding to the mounting tension that filled the air.
Before Chen Ge could piece together an explanation, the footsteps reached the third floor, their echo reverberating through the empty corridor. He was still inside the sixth cubicle, the peephole's discovery fresh in his mind, leaving him with no time to retreat. His only option was to act quickly. He stepped fully into the cubicle, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click, the sound swallowed by the oppressive silence. His heart pounded as he pressed himself against the wall, the mallet raised, ready for whatever might come. The footsteps entered the third-floor bathroom, their rhythm steady and deliberate, as if their owner knew exactly where to go. Chen Ge held his breath, every nerve on edge, realizing that the moment he had been dreading had finally arrived.
Chen Ge's heart pounded in his chest as he swiftly switched off his flashlight, plunging the sixth cubicle into near darkness. He raised his mallet, its familiar weight grounding him against the rising tide of fear. His body tensed, ready for whatever might come, but what happened next caught him completely off guard. The footsteps that had stormed into the third-floor toilet didn't follow the methodical pattern he'd heard before, checking each cubicle in sequence. Instead, they moved with purpose, heading straight for the fifth cubicle—the one right next to him. The door of the fifth cubicle creaked shut, and an eerie silence descended over the toilet, thick and oppressive, as if the very air was holding its breath. The sudden quiet was unnerving, amplifying the sound of his own heartbeat in the confined space. Whoever—or whatever—had entered was now just a wall away, separated only by the thin partition adorned with those unsettling eye drawings.
The realization hit Chen Ge like a jolt: They're right beside me, but isn't this sequence all wrong? According to the black phone's mission requirements, he was supposed to be the one inside the fifth cubicle, waiting for the red shadow to appear. The mission had implied that he needed to place himself in that specific stall to trigger the next stage, to confront whatever horror awaited. Yet here he was, hiding in the sixth cubicle, while someone else had taken his place in the fifth. The discrepancy gnawed at him, sending his mind racing with questions. Had he misunderstood the mission? Or had something else intervened, altering the course of events? The uncertainty was maddening, and the proximity of the unknown presence in the next cubicle only heightened his unease, making the small space feel even more claustrophobic.
The silence stretched on, unbroken by any further sounds from the fifth cubicle. Whoever had entered made no noise—no footsteps, no rustling, not even the faintest whisper. Chen Ge waited, his body rigid with tension, counting the seconds as they turned into minutes. After ten long minutes of agonizing stillness, his curiosity began to outweigh his caution. Who could be in the fifth cubicle, and why had they gone silent? His gaze drifted to the peephole in the partition wall, that tiny, sinister opening he'd discovered earlier, camouflaged among the drawn eyes. The thought of looking through it sent a shiver down his spine, but his need for answers was stronger than his fear. Squatting down, he leaned closer to the peephole, his movements slow and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might alert whatever was on the other side.
The black peephole seemed to exert a strange, almost magnetic pull, drawing Chen Ge's face closer despite his instincts screaming for him to pull back. It was as if the hole itself was alive, beckoning him to peer into its depths and uncover the secrets it held. His heart thudded as he pressed his eye to the opening, the cold wall grazing his cheek. What he saw on the other side was not the bloodshot eye or menacing red shadow he'd braced himself for, but something entirely unexpected: two small children, a boy and a girl, no older than three or four years old. They were huddled beside the toilet, clutching each other's hands tightly, their faces etched with intense worry. Their wide eyes darted nervously, as if they were hiding from something—or someone. The sight was so jarring, so out of place in this haunted toilet, that Chen Ge's breath caught in his throat.
Shouldn't it be the red shadow? Where did these two kids come from? Chen Ge pulled back from the peephole, his mind reeling from the unexpected discovery. The children didn't fit the mission's description at all—they weren't terrifying or supernatural, just frightened and vulnerable. Their presence raised more questions than answers. He recalled another side mission mentioned by the black phone, one involving a brother and sister connected to a deep well and Fan Yu. Could these children be the aunt's son and daughter, somehow tied to the tragedy that had unfolded years ago? But why were they here, in this abandoned school, in the dead of night? And why did they look so terrified, as if something was pursuing them? The questions piled up, each one deepening the mystery and adding to the weight of the unknown pressing down on him.
Chen Ge's grip tightened on the mallet, its heft a reassuring anchor as he processed the situation. If these two children were his opponents, he was confident he could handle them—physically, at least. But his instincts told him this wasn't a simple confrontation. The children's fear, their huddled posture, suggested they were victims, not threats. The mission was growing more complex by the minute, and Chen Ge felt like he was standing on the edge of a revelation he wasn't fully prepared to face. I should wait a little longer, he decided, his intuition warning him that the situation was far from straightforward. Rushing in now could lead to a mistake, and in a place like Mu Yang High School, mistakes could be deadly. He leaned back against the wall, his senses on high alert, determined to bide his time and uncover the truth.
The night grew darker, the oppressive atmosphere of the third-floor toilet thickening with each passing moment. Suddenly, the suffocating silence was shattered by a new set of footsteps echoing from the corridor outside, their rhythm heavy and deliberate. Chen Ge's heart leapt as he cracked open the cubicle door just enough to peer out, his movements cautious to avoid making a sound. The footsteps stopped abruptly at the toilet's entrance, and in the dim light, a faded red shadow flickered across the tiled wall, its form indistinct but unmistakably ominous. The sight sent a chill through him, his body tensing as he realized the true mission target had finally arrived. The red shadow, the entity he'd been warned about, was here, and its presence filled the air with a palpable sense of dread.
Chen Ge's mission had reached its critical moment. He held his breath, his eyes locked on the sliver of the corridor visible through the cracked door. The sound of footsteps grew clearer, each one a heavy thud that reverberated through the silent toilet, confirming that the red shadow had crossed the threshold. His pulse raced, every nerve on edge as he prepared for what might come next. The mallet felt heavier in his hand, a lifeline against the unknown. He couldn't afford to make a sound, couldn't risk alerting the shadow to his presence. His eyes strained in the darkness, tracking the faint, eerie glow of the red shadow as it moved deeper into the toilet.
A grating creak pierced the silence as the first cubicle's door was pulled open. Through the narrow gap in his own door, Chen Ge caught a glimpse of a blurry red shadow leaning into the first cubicle, its form indistinct but radiating menace. It lingered there for what felt like an eternity, as if searching for something—or someone. Then, with deliberate slowness, it moved to the second cubicle, the door creaking open with the same agonizing sound. The noise was like nails on a chalkboard, each creak amplifying Chen Ge's tension. For the first time in his life, the simple act of a door opening felt like a harbinger of doom, a sound that carried the weight of impending horror. His body tensed further, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap.
The red shadow continued its methodical search, pulling open the doors to the second, third, and fourth cubicles, each creak louder and more ominous than the last. Finally, it stopped before the fifth cubicle, where the two children were hiding. Chen Ge's breath hitched, his body rigid with anticipation. He was acutely aware that if he had followed the mission's instructions, he would have been the one inside that fifth cubicle, facing whatever the red shadow had in store. The thought sent a shiver through him, his mind racing with the implications. What was the shadow about to do to those children? And what would have happened to him if he'd been in their place? The tension was unbearable, every second stretching into eternity as he waited for the shadow's next move.
In the dark, silent toilet, the red shadow's presence loomed larger, its form a vague, crimson blur against the tiled walls. Chen Ge watched, his body poised like a tightly wound spring, as the shadow gripped the handle of the fifth cubicle's door. With agonizing slowness, the door began to creak open, the sound slicing through the silence like a blade. Chen Ge's heart pounded in his chest, his grip on the mallet so tight his knuckles whitened. Whatever was about to happen in that cubicle was tied to the core of his mission, and he was mere moments away from witnessing it. The red shadow's intentions were unclear, but the danger was palpable, and Chen Ge braced himself for the revelation that awaited, knowing that the truth he sought was about to unfold in the most terrifying way possible.