【I have a haunted house】Chapter 4: An Unexpected Reward

Perhaps the bathroom window was not securely shut, as the night breeze wafted into the room, brushing against Nick's face like an unseen hand. The door of the restroom stall swayed gently, creaking ominously, while water droplets dripped from the ceiling, echoing as they fell. The sound of something crawling in the drain created a faint rustling noise.

In the stillness, every sound was magnified. Many would feel uneasy in such an environment, but Nick was an exception; his tumultuous childhood had forged in him a remarkable psychological resilience and unyielding nerve. His mind was a blank slate, free of thoughts, as he silently counted the passing time.

After nearly twenty minutes, Nick sensed an inexplicable drop in the room's temperature, as if several blocks of ice surrounded him. He couldn't help but shiver.

“Stay calm! Don’t think about why this is happening, and don’t scare yourself. There are still ten minutes left; I must endure!” A faint current of air brushed his ear, and he sensed something lurking around him. His fists clenched, the veins on the back of his hands bulging, yet his body remained rooted to the ground like a resilient pine, utterly still.

“Nick, Nick, Nick…”

Whispering his name, as only five minutes remained, Nick felt the flickering flame in the bathroom extinguish, and in the darkness, it seemed as though another presence echoed his name.

“An echo? That’s impossible!”

“Nick…”

The voice seemed to beckon him, urgent, as if there was something vitally important to convey.

“That voice seems to be coming from outside the door. Should I take a look?” Quickly dismissing the thought, Nick recalled the game rules: he simply needed to remain in front of the mirror.

He mentally calculated the time, the voice around him gradually warping out of tune. He could confirm that someone was indeed calling his name, and that person appeared to be standing just outside the door.

“That person seems quite anxious, but I’m the one playing the game. Why should they be worried? Clearly, it’s a trap, too obvious to be effective.” Nick scoffed, “The atmosphere is well-crafted, but the frightening methods are rather basic.”

In the final three minutes, a jarring sound erupted from the bathroom door, akin to nails scratching or teeth gnawing; the door shook ominously, threatening to burst open at any moment.

“1798 seconds, 1799 seconds, 1800 seconds!” The half-hour mark had arrived, and all noise from outside ceased, plunging everything back into silence.

To prevent miscounting, Nick did not immediately open his eyes. He counted an additional three hundred seconds before taking a step back, placing his hands over his chest and blinking.

The candles in the bathroom had long since extinguished, and it was enveloped in darkness. Nick sensed something had shifted in the room.

Switching on his flashlight, he froze in place as the light illuminated the space.

The mirror was riddled with cracks, his reflection fragmented into countless pieces, appearing surreal. What shocked him even more was the presence of a tattered doll that had inexplicably appeared before the mirror!

With button eyes gleaming faintly and a patched body stuffed with cotton, the doll was far from charming. Yet to Nick, it held profound significance—it was the first doll he had ever crafted and had accompanied his parents during their disappearance.

The doll leaned against the shattered mirror, as if preventing whatever lay within from escaping.

“The bathroom door is locked; how did the doll get in? Through the window? No, that’s not it! The real question is why it moves on its own!” Nick felt his worldview shattering, and he grew increasingly disoriented.

The two—he and the doll—faced off in silence for three minutes before Nick finally regained his composure. He flexed his cold fingers and slowly approached.

The button eyes seemed to follow him from every angle. As Nick scrutinized the toy he had made, his mouth involuntarily twitched.

He carefully avoided the doll and picked up his phone from beside him. “Fortunately, I was cautious and prepared.”

The video recording had continued uninterrupted. After prudently saving a backup, Nick began to watch the footage.

The video was somewhat unclear; the candlelight flickered, and Nick stood in front of the mirror, appearing somewhat stiff. In contrast, the reflection in the mirror seemed more animated.

The first ten minutes passed uneventfully, but the turning point came at the eleventh minute.

The sounds of the night wind did not register in the recording; instead, the video captured only the stall door, gently swaying.

Then, static began to emerge in the footage. Though the visuals remained mundane, they elicited an indescribable sense of terror, perhaps stemming from humanity's intrinsic fear of darkness and the unknown.

Watching the video, Nick’s expression soured. He remembered keeping his eyes closed, maintaining distance from the mirror, yet the footage showed his body slowly leaning forward as if drawn toward the glass.

By the twenty-fifth minute, his upper body was bent at a precarious angle of seventy degrees, his nose almost touching the mirror.

Seconds later, without warning, cracks began to appear on the mirror, a sight that horrified Nick.

What followed was the most incredible event: the reflection of Nick transformed, baring teeth and slamming violently against the glass!

Simultaneously, the candles extinguished, and the video abruptly ended.

Due to the camera angle, the footage contained no trace of the doll; Nick remained in the dark about what transpired in those final five minutes.

“The entity in the mirror wanted to escape, but it seems the doll thwarted its intentions. If that’s the case, perhaps it saved me once.” Cradling the doll from the sink in his arms, Nick earnestly inquired, “Can you understand me? Do you know where my parents went in the end?”

The doll offered no response, its button eyes glimmering faintly.

He held the doll close, casting a glance at the bathroom door, hesitating to leave. Shrinking beneath the windowsill, he retrieved his black phone, where a message confirming the task’s completion awaited.

“You must admit, you are fortunate. Congratulations on completing the nightmare-level daily task! Reward acquired—Beginner Talent Skill: Embalming.”

“Embalming: I hope you approach this talent with the utmost seriousness. Unlike beautification, embalmers only prepare the deceased for rest; the beauty in your hands transcends life and death, restoring vitality to the cold and bestowing everlasting grace.”

“Having completed your first nightmare-level daily task, you have been awarded the title of Newcomer in the City of Nightmares, along with an additional reward: the unlocking of the one-star horror scene, Midnight Escape Trial Task! Upon completion of this trial task, the scene’s facilities will be featured in the haunted house!”

Perusing the information on his black phone, Nick fell into deep thought. The development of haunted houses relied heavily on makeup artists; whether for actors or props, a makeup artist was essential for a second transformation. A skilled makeup artist could effortlessly create a lifelike effect.