A new name had risen in the thrilling world of the live-streamed horror games. Lucas, a once-unknown player, had suddenly become the center of attention.
After his explosive performance in the super live broadcast arena—and with heavy sponsorship from the Five Tigers Guild—Lucas was thrust into the spotlight. His name rapidly climbed the charts of the "Thriller Game" forum. Players, streamers, and gossipmongers all wanted to know more.
Then came a revelation: Lucas had once been a patient at the Second Hospital.
This detail, seemingly minor at first, caused an uproar. It rocketed to the top of the hot post board, eclipsing even the newest game updates.
"Who is this guy?"
"What kind of illness did Lucas have?"
"Why was he in the Second Hospital?"
The community buzzed with questions.
Then, as the curiosity reached fever pitch, the technical sleuth who had originally uncovered the hospital file returned—with an update.
At the top of his forum post, pinned in bold red letters, was a link:
> [SOCIAL NEWS: Mysterious Fire Engulfs Second Hospital Overnight – Accident or Something More Sinister?!]
Many scoffed at first.
"Who cares about social news?"
"People die every day in these games. Why would real-world news be relevant?"
But curiosity has a way of digging its claws into people.
Some clicked.
And once they did, they couldn't look away.
The headline screamed across their screens:
> A Fire Broke Out in the Second Hospital. The Entire Facility Was Burned to Ashes Overnight. The Cause Remains Unclear!
Second Hospital... wasn't that the same hospital from Lucas's file?
Viewers couldn't help but connect the dots.
They remembered a disturbing line from the file—one left by a distressed doctor:
> "I want to discharge the patient so he doesn't need to stay here anymore. I don't think he is sick. But he said that if he leaves, we will all die."
And then he left. And the hospital burned.
One comment summed up everyone's growing fear:
> "After Lucas left, the Second Hospital burned to the ground. Everyone there really did die."
Another added:
> "The Ninth Hospital, where Lucas was later transferred, also went up in flames. Coincidence? I think not."
Suddenly, it was no longer a curiosity—it was a mystery soaked in dread.
And just when the speculation threatened to spiral into madness, the technical sleuth dropped another bombshell.
This time, it was a video.
The footage was grainy. The lighting poor. But one could make out a man in a hoodie and face mask sitting before the camera.
He spoke with a firm but cautious tone.
> "For personal reasons, I will not show my face in this video. What began as casual research into Lucas quickly became something... deeper. What I uncovered pulled me into a world of questions I'm not sure I want answered."
> "By now, many of you have seen the report on the Second Hospital fire. The doctor who treated Lucas is confirmed dead. It should've ended there. But... it didn't."
> "Because of a strange clue, I managed to track down Lucas's parents."
The man stood, blocking the camera. The screen briefly went dark. When it lit up again, it revealed an elderly couple seated in a modest, warm-looking living room. They appeared nervous, eyes shifting uncomfortably toward the camera.
A male voice behind the camera spoke gently:
> "It's okay. Please tell us about Lucas."
The couple exchanged glances. The wife squeezed her husband's hand and began.
> "Actually… Lucas is not our biological child."
The silence was deafening.
She continued, cautiously.
> "We never had children of our own. Years ago, we adopted Lucas from Sunshine Orphanage. He was only five years old."
The man behind the camera asked:
> "Was Lucas the name you gave him?"
They both nodded.
> "Yes," said the wife. "We chose the name together. Lucas carries my husband's last name."
The investigator encouraged them to go on.
The wife hesitated. Her husband seemed frozen.
> "At first, he was... the sweetest boy. Always well-behaved, polite, unusually thoughtful for his age. But by the time he turned seven or eight, something started to change."
Her husband suddenly spoke, his voice shaking.
> "Not change... transform. He became terrifying."
> "Please," the wife cut in, "my husband is very sensitive. Lucas wasn't terrifying. He was just... strange."
Her words did little to soothe the tension in the room. Her husband trembled, lips pale, eyes distant.
> "He used to point to empty corners of the house and say, 'Danger lives there,'" she explained. "At first, we thought it was imagination. But it happened too often. And the places he pointed at… weird things did happen there later."
The husband snapped, voice rising:
> "Adults can't understand kids? Nonsense! He knew things he wasn't supposed to know!"
The wife shook her head.
> "No, listen. One time, he said to me—childlike and sweet—'Mom, never let me leave you. If I go, you'll die.'"
She shuddered as she recalled it, then quickly forced a smile.
> "Sorry, the air conditioning is a bit low."
The man behind the camera wasn't smiling.
> "Did anything else happen?"
The wife hesitated, then admitted:
> "He used to talk to himself. At all hours. Whispering things we couldn't hear. We decided to get him checked, just in case. But when the hospital saw him… they didn't let him go."
Her husband, now pale and rigid, exploded:
> "They said he was dangerous! He was committed on the spot!"
His wife reached over to calm him, but he stood, shaking, clenching his fists.
She gently pulled him back down. He sat, arms wrapped tightly around himself, rocking.
> "He's not usually like this," she whispered, her eyes apologetic. "He's just… fragile now."
Her husband sneered.
> "I wonder who made me like this."
The smile dropped from her face.
The man behind the camera then shifted his attention.
> "Sir, can you tell us what happened?"
The husband was silent for a moment. Then he began to speak, softly at first.
> "Lucas turned eight. Around that time, we realized he'd started sleepwalking. At first, we were just worried he might hurt himself. So at night, we began locking his bedroom door."
> "But... one month later, he smuggled a kitchen knife into his room."
> "That night… I woke up to the sound of metal striking wood."
He leaned toward the camera, eyes wide in terror.
> "He was trying to hack the door open. He was smiling. Smiling!"
The man behind the camera remained composed.
> "I can imagine," he said.
> "No," the father whispered. "You can't. We nailed an iron sheet to the door after that."
The wife couldn't take it anymore. She wept, face buried in her hands.
> "We tried to help him," she sobbed. "We really did…"
Her husband went on, voice hollow.
> "We brought in a priest once. He left without saying a word. Just dropped the holy water and ran."
The interviewer's voice dropped to a whisper.
> "Are you sure he was sleepwalking?"
Suddenly, the father's face froze. The mother stopped crying instantly.
The silence stretched long and heavy.
---
More revelations to come. Follow for updates. If you're enjoying this investigation, don't forget to support with likes and comments!
------------------------------------------------------
Get membership in patreon to read more chapters
Extra chapters available in patreon
patreon.com/Dragonscribe31
-----------------------------------------------------