The amusement park’s grounds were large. Once Hu Hanghang and the others had rested and recovered, they pulled out the park’s map and studied it for a while before deciding to make for the haunted house, tucked away in the far corner of the park.

This haunted house was unlike the single-format attractions found elsewhere. It had a thoughtfully designed tiered system of difficulty levels and different story settings.

None of the seven of them were the timid sort. They went straight for the highest tier of terror: the Fujiki Hospital.

The Fujiki Hospital was a well-known haunted house series in the country, one that toured regularly across different regions, and everyone who had ever gone through it came out having screamed themselves hoarse. This particular amusement park appeared to have purchased the franchise rights. The story’s setting and background were identical to what Lin Tao had previously seen described in online reviews of the touring production — not a single detail had been changed.

After buying their tickets, the staff member at the entrance took care to explain the complete story background and run through the rules for navigating the experience.

“If you feel you can’t continue, press the signal light we’ve given you, then wait in place — a staff member will come inside to escort you out.” The staff member looked at them all and emphasized it a second time: “And remember: no matter what happens inside, you must not strike the NPCs.”

“……”

The staff member’s tone carried a hint of resigned weariness, suggesting that incidents of guests in extreme fright lashing out at NPCs had, in fact, occurred before.

All seven of them understood — haunted houses typically had designated staff members inside, in costume, playing various terrifying characters, ready to pop out and frighten guests at the right moment. Some of the costumes were so convincing that visitors simply couldn’t handle it, and more than a few incidents of guests punching or kicking NPCs in panic had found their way online.

“We absolutely will not lay a hand on anyone.” Hu Hanghang thumped his chest, all solemn conviction. “All of us are made of courage and steel.”

Everyone: “……”

Xu Yichuan stepped forward and clapped a hand over his mouth. “You’d do everyone a favor by keeping quiet.”

The seven of them had their tickets scanned and accepted the signal light and flashlights from the staff.

One flashlight per person, but only one signal light — and for safekeeping, the group decided to give the signal light to Jiang Yan.

“Jiang Yan, our lives are in your hands now.” Hu Hanghang looked at him solemnly. “You absolutely must survive this.”

“……”

Before they went in, the staff member asked one more time: “The terror level inside has been upgraded — it is extremely, truly terrifying. Are you certain you want to proceed?”

“We’re certain!”

Seeing their resolve, the staff member said nothing more and lifted the curtain at the entrance to let them through.

The entry to the Fujiki Hospital was a hospital ward door. The passageway beyond was narrow and dark — only one person could pass through at a time.

The seven of them lined up at the door. Hu Hanghang, determined to prove his bravery by going first, led the way, followed by Guan Che, Lin Tao, Jiang Yan, Meng Xin, with Song Yuan and Xu Yichuan at the rear.

When they reached the door, Hu Hanghang stood before it. The instant his hand closed around the handle, he felt a wave of cold air crawl up his spine.

He swallowed hard and turned back to look at Guan Che. “Guan Che, do you feel that? There’s something cold running up my back.”

Guan Che leaned lazily against the wall beside him, long lashes drooping in a bored sort of way. “Of course there is. Look up. See what’s above your head.”

“……” The suggestion, hinting at something ominous, made Hu Hanghang’s voice tremble immediately. “What’s — what’s above my head…”

He looked up as he finished speaking.

The lights in the passageway were flickering. In one of the brief moments it was lit, Hu Hanghang saw that directly above his head was a functioning central air conditioning unit, its vent blowing a steady stream of cold air straight down onto him.

“……”

Lin Tao, seeing that he was already this frightened before even stepping inside, couldn’t help smiling. “Pangpang, maybe you should move to the back.”

“It’s fine — I’m Hu Hanghang. I can handle this.”

Hu Hanghang gripped the handle again and pressed it down. Whether this was deliberate design or simply years of wear on the door, the moment he pushed down the handle, it let out a long, drawn-out creak — followed by a strange, cold gust of air spilling out from inside.

It was the cold kind of chill, and it didn’t feel anything like the air conditioning.

Lin Tao found herself instinctively rubbing her arms.

The door pushed inward.

Hu Hanghang pushed it open slowly until it hit the wall and could go no further. He looked back at the others. “Alright. Come in.”

Beyond the door was a long corridor. There were no lights — only an emergency exit sign, glowing an eerie, sickly green.

With the door open, Hu Hanghang didn’t hesitate any longer. He took a bold stride forward and walked inside.

Guan Che had barely stepped one foot through the doorway when something flashed past his eyes — and then Hu Hanghang’s anguished shriek tore through the air.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA——!! WHAT THE— AAAA!! AAAA!!” Hu Hanghang lurched backward several steps and only stopped when he crashed into Guan Che’s feet.

The six people behind him could now see what had flashed past in front of them.

In the exact spot Hu Hanghang had just been standing, something hung suspended in mid-air — a figure dressed in a blood-soaked hospital gown, long hair cascading down to cover its face, though doing nothing to conceal the long tongue protruding from its mouth.

The prop had been positioned with precision. When Hu Hanghang had stepped forward, he had practically walked straight into it.

In that split second, Hu Hanghang had the distinct and horrifying sensation that the tongue had actually licked his face.

“……” Guan Che, the one standing closest, couldn’t help clicking his tongue. “This haunted house is almost too realistic, isn’t it?”

Even Lin Tao, who had seen plenty of horror films and done her share of haunted house attractions, was rattled by the sight in front of her.

And this was only the entrance. If it was already this terrifying before they had even truly begun, there was no telling what else lay ahead.

For a moment, all seven of them stood rooted to the spot, at a complete loss. Xu Yichuan, at the very back of the line, pressed his back against the door and instinctively grabbed the handle. “Maybe we should try a different attraction. This one is — it’s really terrifying.”

As he spoke, he tested the handle, pressing it down — and then his back broke into a cold sweat. “What the — the door is locked from the other side. We can’t get out.”

“……”

Just as the group’s attention was pulled toward what Xu Yichuan had said, the prop figure, which had been hanging motionless until now, seemed to be triggered by something. It slowly lifted its head. The long tongue trembled with each movement. And then it began to creep toward the group gathered at the door.

At the same time, a disturbing sound began to emanate from it: “Heh heh heh heh — come play with me, won’t you~ My tongue is so long~ ha ha ha, heh heh heh~ let me see if yours is long too~”

“Oh god—”

The sight sent all seven of them flying in blind panic. Desperate to keep the figure from touching them, they pressed themselves against the walls and fled down the corridor as fast as they could.

Once they had made it through the length of that long corridor, all seven of them leaned against the walls, panting.

“That is hands-down the most committed haunted house I’ve ever set foot in.” Xu Yichuan clutched at his chest, feeling as if his heart were trying to escape from inside it. “This place absolutely deserves top marks.”

Jiang Yan, for his part, wasn’t particularly rattled by the props themselves — it was the completely unpredictable screaming from the others that had startled him the most.

Once everyone had caught their breath, they pressed onward. Going back was out of the question, and calling it quits right now was equally impossible.

Thinking of the bold and fearless declarations they had all made before entering, the option of stopping was immediately ruled out.

The corridor ended without any further path — their only option was to turn left and enter the operating room beside them.

After what had happened with the entrance door, Hu Hanghang absolutely refused to be the first to open a door again. Song Yuan took over.

But the operating room door proved less cooperative.

Song Yuan pressed the handle and pushed — forward, backward — nothing moved.

Lin Tao and Jiang Yan stood side by side, watching Song Yuan’s hands. Something occurred to Lin Tao. “Try sliding it sideways?”

“Oh, right.”

Song Yuan pressed the handle again and this time pushed hard to the side. The door swung open.

This time, after the door opened, everyone deliberately waited at the threshold for a few minutes. Once they were satisfied that nothing was going to fall from above, they went inside.

The operating room was darker than the corridor had been, with walls on every side and almost nothing to see by. Everyone switched on their flashlights.

In the darkness, Jiang Yan took Lin Tao’s hand and said in a low voice, “Stay close.”

“Alright.”

Lin Tao swept her flashlight across the operating room. Nothing particularly frightening caught her eye. She spotted Jiang Yan examining a scalpel left on a tray — and a mischievous impulse surfaced.

She crept closer and shone her flashlight up at her own face, then gave his shoulder a light tap. In a deliberately low voice, she said: “Jiang Yan…”

Jiang Yan: “……”

Jiang Yan put down the plastic replica scalpel he had just picked up, looked up — and then his gaze shifted to something beyond her shoulder, and his expression changed in an instant.

“What the—” He grabbed Lin Tao and pulled her toward him, alerting the others: “There’s something — on the operating table!”

“……”

Lin Tao, now tucked against him, looked back and saw that the “figure” that had been lying motionless on the operating table had just sat up. In the dim light, it was impossible to tell whether it was a prop or a person in costume.

Whatever it was — screaming was clearly the right call.

“AAAAAAAAAA——!!!!!!!!!!”

The previously quiet operating room erupted in a chorus of screams.

They had noticed the figure on the operating table when they first came in, but it had been covered with a white sheet, and no one had dared touch it — knowing full well that in a place like this, disturbing something randomly could only lead to worse horrors.

Xu Yichuan, curious as always, had lifted the sheet for a peek, but the figure’s makeup was so heavy he couldn’t tell whether it was a real person or not. He’d shone his flashlight at its face and hadn’t seen so much as a flutter of the eyelids, so he’d let it go.

He had certainly not anticipated it sitting up.

“Excuse me, friend — are you dead or alive…?”

All seven of them had clustered together. Guan Che still had a scalpel in his hand — though presumably to prevent injury, it was made of plastic, limp enough at the blade that it would have been completely useless in a fight.

The moment Guan Che finished speaking, the figure on the bed began to move again. It tilted its head, and a series of cracking sounds followed. Then all seven of them watched as the figure dropped off the bed — neck at a crooked angle, its face a mask of terrifying stage makeup — and lurched toward them like something straight out of a zombie film, one side dragging, step by uneven step.

“Run!”

Guan Che bellowed the order, grabbed Meng Xin beside him, and bolted for the door. The others seemed to snap awake all at once and followed in a rush.

But the corridor was a dead end. The operating room was the only way forward.

All seven of them pressed against the wall at the corridor’s corner. From the corner of their eyes they could see that the figure had followed them out of the operating room — and further ahead, the hanging prop from the entrance was still in its original position.

“……did anyone see a way out in the operating room?” Jiang Yan said, regaining his composure. He let go of Lin Tao’s hand; both their palms were damp with sweat.

“There was a door — a small door in the operating room.” Meng Xin steadied her breathing. “I caught sight of it just before — then I heard everyone shouting about something on the bed and forgot about it completely in the panic.”

Lin Tao wiped her sweaty palm on the hem of her shirt. “Does that mean we have to go back in?”

She poked her head out from behind the corner to look — and a face suddenly appeared directly in front of hers.

It was the figure from the operating room. Somehow it had crept closer without any of them noticing, and it let out a strange, unsettling laugh.

Lin Tao was so startled she swore out loud. “WHAT THE—!!!!!!!!”

The corridor was a little brighter than the operating room had been. Everyone else heard the commotion and saw it too.

The screaming that followed was louder than anything that had come before.

Jiang Yan grabbed Lin Tao and ran. “Back into the operating room!”

By now, everyone had accepted the figure was a person in costume — and a very committed one, shuffling after them in that same uneven gait without ever breaking character.

He moved slowly. He had no hope of keeping up once they broke into a run.

Song Yuan was the last one through the door and immediately whipped it shut behind him. Hu Hanghang shoved the operating table over to brace against it.

For one brief moment, they all exhaled.

Then, from the corridor outside, the figure began hammering on the door. The flimsy panels rattled under the blows.

“Would you please STOP knocking?!” Hu Hanghang shouted.

And just like that — the knocking stopped.

“……”

The face-to-face encounter in the corridor had rattled Lin Tao thoroughly. Her back was soaked with sweat. Jiang Yan pulled out a wet wipe and dabbed at her face. “Frightened?”

“A bit.” Lin Tao steadied herself and thought back to the staff member’s well-meaning warning at the entrance. “Now I understand exactly what she meant by ‘extremely, truly terrifying.'”

She licked her dry lips, choosing words that were, if anything, an understatement: “Terrifying enough to scare the life right out of you.”

Hu Hanghang was in complete agreement. “Honestly — when I walked straight into that figure at the entrance? I was this close to wetting my pants.”

“……”

After resting in the operating room for a short while, they slipped out through the small door Meng Xin had spotted earlier, and the moment it opened, a chill wind blew straight into their faces.

The cold seeped into their bones.

At this point, there was no more sorting by gender. All seven of them huddled together in a tight cluster, Lin Tao tucked into the shelter of Jiang Yan’s arms, her back pressed against the warm solid plane of his chest.

Moving like a seven-headed creature, they shuffled side-by-side down the next corridor, until a door barred their way — one covered all over in bloody handprints.

The corridor had no light.

Guan Che raised his flashlight and swept it over the door, letting it rest on the label above the frame. “……”

The others followed his gaze. “……”

There, on the dust-and-handprint-covered placard, were three characters:

Mortuary.