thriller
Ghosts in the Mansion
Ghosts in the Mansion Zhang De is a student at an ordinary university. It's now summer vacation, and Zhang De is preparing to find a job in the city and take the opportunity to stroll around. It has been over three days since Zhang De sent out resumes, either being rejected by potential employers or finding them unsatisfactory, either too lacking or too demanding. One day, Zhang De suddenly spotted a recruitment ad in the newspaper for a cleaning position offering a salary even higher than some white-collar jobs, a full 3000 yuan, including food and accommodation. This tempted Zhang De, who was still a college student. At the same time, Zhang De was worried that with such a high salary, there must be many applicants, and whether he could be chosen was another issue. Furthermore, if they were offering such a high price, the requirements must be high too, especially since they were only recruiting one person. Zhang De came from a rural area, where producing a college student was not easy. Every rural family treasured their college-educated members, who were not expected to endure hardships. Although Zhang De was not so delicate, he hadn't done much heavy work since childhood. Zhang De wasn't returning home for the summer vacation and had to fend for himself, so he decided to check out the job opportunity, thinking he might greatly enrich his pockets by working there for two months. Every time, Zhang De would feel embarrassed by his thin wallet. Biting his teeth, he hailed a taxi on the street.The job location was in the suburbs, unreachable by bus. Coming from a quintessential rural background, Zhang De's family was frugal, and he had never really had the chance to explore the city. He waved down a taxi, which stopped in front of him. "Master, how much would it cost to go to No. 39 Zhang's Village in the suburbs?" Zhang De leaned in and asked through the taxi window. "What? You're going to No. 39 Zhang's Village? Why would you want to go there? That's not a good place," the taxi driver said, instantly piquing Zhang De's curiosity."Ah, that mansion has an ominous reputation. People have died there. Most people can feel the chill from a distance. If you really want to go, I can take you to Zhang's Village," the driver said. Zhang De thought if the place was indeed inauspicious, then few would go, increasing his chances. Having grown up in the countryside, he was accustomed to the saying, "Do no wrong, and fear no ghost." Rural folks generally had more courage than city dwellers. Comforted by this thought, Zhang De decided to visit and see for himself; if it didn't work out, he'd leave right away.Eventually, the taxi driver agreed to take Zhang De for 50 yuan. Sitting in the taxi, Zhang De felt a pinch at the expense, not knowing if it would work out and already his wallet was lighter. If this happened a few more times, he might as well go home. The taxi quickly delivered Zhang De to Zhang's Village within half an hour. Zhang De was pleased to hear the village shared his surname. Zhang's Village was a key development project, now filled with three-story Western-style buildings, each with a number plate. The first was No. 1, followed by No. 2, and so on. Zhang De walked along, following the numbers, but after No. 38, there was no No. 39—only No. 40.Between the buildings numbered 38 and 40 was a narrow alley that barely allowed one person to pass. Was No. 39 inside this dark and chillingly cold alley? Swallowing hard, Zhang De remembered the taxi driver's words and hesitated, thinking of leaving immediately. After wandering in front of the alley for a long time, he finally mustered the courage and slowly entered. The short distance through the alley made his heart race and his breathing heavy, his forehead beading with sweat. "Heh, what should a grown man like me be afraid of? I'm from the countryside... ghosts should be afraid of me," Zhang De reassured himself, and his fear lessened considerably. Just as he was calming down, a sudden cold breeze from the end of the alley made his heart race again. The alley wasn't deep, only 20 meters, but it took Zhang De a minute to traverse it. When he emerged, both his back and chest were drenched with sweat. What he saw was an ancient residence, which he estimated to be at least 300 years old, with faded red walls and a large gate, three meters high and five meters wide, now discolored. The characters on the plaque above the gate were illegible. As soon as he emerged from the alley, he was struck by a damp, musty smell, indicating that the mansion had not been cleaned for a long time. With difficulty, Zhang De moved forward and knocked on the aged door.After a while, he heard noises from behind the door, which then opened to reveal an old woman, around 70 years old, with her hair in a bun and holding a broom. "What are you here for?" she asked in a hoarse voice. "I... I've come to apply for the job. I saw the recruitment ad in the newspaper," Zhang De replied. "Aren't you afraid? This place is filled with misfortune," the old woman asked again, her voice flat. "Of course, I'm a bit afraid, but I still want to try," Zhang De answered. "Hmm, alright, come in then. Are you planning to live here, or will you find another place?" the old woman asked as she led the way. "I haven't found a place yet, so I'll stay here for now and move once I find somewhere else," Zhang De said. They continued on, one asking, one answering. The mansion was indeed large; the front courtyard alone contained over a dozen rooms, and the old woman mentioned there were more in the back. However, due to the abundance of rooms, the old woman could only clean her own, so many were moldy. "Choose any room you like, just clean it well. Also, don't go to the kitchen in the back at night, there's something ominous there," the old woman warned of the misfortune. "Something ominous? Could it be..." Zhang De stammered. "Hmm, go pick any room you like," the old woman handed him the broom. "What about meals? Should I cook, or order takeout?" Zhang De inquired.(Note: The translation attempts to closely match the original text in structure and content, while adapting certain phrases to align with English cultural and language norms.)Zhang De asked, "Hehe, no need, I will just clean up this mansion for you," said the old lady with a smile. However, Zhang De always felt that this old woman's smile was a bit strange. There were many rooms here, and after searching for a while, Zhang De found a room in a place of hardship. Opening the door, the dust inside was thick on the floor, and various sizes of spider webs occupied the room. As Zhang De moved his feet, the thick dust flew up into the air. "My goodness, how long has this house not been cleaned? Seems like I've got a busy day ahead," Zhang De said, covering his nose and mouth. In the countryside, Zhang De was still capable of doing these household chores, and the room was cleaned up quickly. An hour later, the room was basically fit for living. "Sorry to disturb you, I've brought you a blanket, the ones here have all gotten moldy," said the old lady's voice suddenly from outside the door. "I see, by the way, why don't you hire more people?" Zhang De asked with some confusion. This old lady, she even had to cook her own meals, "Hehe, came and went," the old lady muttered.Zhang De just thought that this place was too private and guessed that visitors didn't stay long before leaving. "By the way, hurry up and get ready to eat," the old lady said with a strange smile as she left. After the old lady left, Zhang De carried the blanket to the bed and pressed down hard on it, not wanting the bed to suddenly break in the middle of the night. The bed was very sturdy, and Zhang De, reassured, placed the blanket on the bed and then left the room. "Ah, I forgot to ask where to eat! Really," Zhang De walked out of the room and suddenly remembered he hadn't asked where to eat. Zhang De decided to look around to see where the dining place was.The old woman's voice then floated out from a room, "Young man, over here." Zhang De responded and found the dining room covered with black cloth, with only an orange-yellow chandelier casting a soft glow, making everything seem very eerie. "Old lady, do we eat here?" Zhang De asked puzzled. "Hmm, don't call me old lady or whatever, just call me wife. By the way, what's your name?" Zhang Po asked while drinking porridge and asked Zhang De, who also found a small chair to sit down. Speaking of Zhang Min, "I'm Zhang De. By the way, why don't you open the curtains?" Zhang Pu smiled and said, "I don't really like sunlight." The dim light cast Zhang Pu's face in a terrifying way, causing Zhang De's heart to beat violently. "Hehe, nowadays, many people don't like it," Zhang De said with a forced laugh. The dining table Zhang De was eating at was a two-meter-long big table, painted black, and felt elastic to the touch. There were several dishes on the table, and they were all the meat dishes Zhang De liked. Just the smell made him salivate uncontrollably. "Wow, I didn't expect your cooking to be so good, really delicious," Zhang De thought while enjoying the food, which made him forget his previous fear. "Hehe, there is also lean meat soup that tastes very good," said Zhang Po as she ladled a full bowl of soup from a big pot for Zhang De. "I'll do it myself," said Zhang De politely, but Zhang Po's enthusiasm made him feel better and sit down. Zhang Peng's first shout was not like that of a human, and that sound directly scared Zhang De, who had just stood up, back into his seat. "Ah, that's right, you're working for me, but you're still a half guest. Lean meat soup?" Zhang Bo said, holding the soup. "Thank you," at that moment, Zhang De always felt that this image had a kind of 'big bad wolf' feeling. He took the lean meat soup handed over by Zhang Fan. The soup was white porridge mixed with red lean meat, which smelled so good that it made Zhang De's worries seem to disappear. Taking a sip of the soup, he felt as if his whole body was filled with how is it? And the more he drank, the more fragrant it became, so delicious that Zhang De nearly bit his own tongue. "Hehe, Manchester United, Manchester United, there's more coming in the next two days," Zhang De finished cleaning and went out to look for work. But one thing made Zhang De feel very uncomfortable. This picture never went out, so how could there be meat?Moreover, these two days, he had been eating only meat. To have meat every meal is considered good living conditions, but he was not familiar with this picture, and yet he was allowed to eat meat every meal. Zhang De always found this picture to be quite strange. It must be said that Zhang Po's cooking skills were really good; for two days in a row, no matter how much Zhang ate, he didn't feel sick, but the more he ate like this, the more he liked it, as if he was addicted. Today, when Zhang De returned to Zhang Po's house, it was a bit late, and it was already getting dark. "Where have you been? Why are you only coming back now?" Zhang Bo's voice suddenly appeared behind Zhang De, asking, "I," Zhang opened his mouth, "I found a place outside and will move there tomorrow." "Well, then you should go to bed early tonight," the wife advised, and then left. That night, Zhang De didn't know why, but he couldn't sleep, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. For some reason, he had developed a deep attachment to this place and couldn't bear to leave. Unable to sleep, Zhang De decided to go outside for a walk. As soon as he opened the door to his room, he smelled a very fragrant scent, the same scent that Zhang Po cooked for him every day. For some reason, Zhang De felt that the scent was much better at night than during the day. Following the scent, his throat involuntarily swallowed, thinking that this picture had always been cooking for himself at night, which made Zhang De feel a little panicked. So he followed the scent to the flavor, which was coming from the backyard. Zhang De had always been in the front yard these two days; this was his first time in the backyard. He arrived at the backyard and followed the scent to the door of a room. This room was emitting a green glow, which made Zhang De feel very cold. He carefully approached the window, and the green light shining through made his face also appear very terrifying. This green light was coming from a stove, with a big pot on top, and Zhang Po held a wooden stick, stirring continuously in the pot. When Zhang Po stirred with the wooden stick, her expression was very strange. After stirring for a while, the old woman used a spoon to scoop up a big spoonful, and it was clear to see that there was a finger in the spoon. This discovery made Zhang De retreat several steps in shock, almost making a sound. Not daring to stay, Zhang De quickly returned to his room, and the thought that the meat Zhang Tong had been feeding him for the past two days might be human flesh made Zhang De feel nauseous. What exactly was Zhang Po, human or ghost? No, this place was too dangerous. Zhang De covered his head with the blanket. Yes, he had once heard old people say that there was a kind of staple food that they would dismember and crush the bodies of those they killed and cook them into food.Those who are made to eat, crafted through the main food channel, emit a special fragrance that makes one crave more with each bite, as if bewitched or possessed. When you see the chief zombie preparing your food, it is then that your death approaches. Of course, any thought of escape is futile; when you attempt to flee, you'll find yourself unwittingly back in front of the cooking ghost, unless you use black dog's blood. Nowadays, few are aware of such ghosts, and Zhang De had only heard of them by chance from the older generation. Although young at the time, Zhang De was skeptical about the existence of such phantoms, never expecting to actually encounter one.After a sleepless night, Zhang De's face lacked any sign of energy, with two large dark circles under his eyes. Upon waking and stepping out of his room, Zhang De jumped at the sound of Zhang Bo's voice. It was a stiff greeting he managed to give to Granny Zhang. "Hey, by the way, wife, I need to step out today. I'll skip breakfast," he said. Granny Zhang simply glanced at him before leaving. Zhang De then went to the city's dog market, where numerous breeds of dogs, both large and small, were barking incessantly in their cages. After a long walk, he finally saw a pure black mongrel. Such dogs weren't expensive, and gritting his teeth, Zhang De spent 400 dollars to buy the black dog. Though it pained him to spend so much, his life was more important than escaping the chief zombie. He drew a glassful of blood from the black dog, which was still alive, and arranged for the seller to look after it for a while.Returning to the large house, Zhang De felt a chilling sensation. If he could survive and leave, he decided he would never work outside the teaching profession again. "Zhang De, where have you been? It's already noon," Granny Zhang asked with a displeased expression."Oh, I went to look at some houses," Zhang De replied, somewhat fearful. "Well, come on, I've saved some food for you," Granny Zhang said as Zhang De followed her, wondering if he would find an opportunity. They arrived at their usual dining area, but there was no smell of food, only a large pot with a strange green flame burning underneath. "How is there no smell of food?" Zhang De curiously asked. Granny Zhang suddenly burst into laughter. "The food will be ready soon. Aren't you a fine dish yourself?" she said, laughing. Zhang De was startled by her sudden laughter.He stepped back several paces. "Granny Zhang, you're joking, right?" he asked, but Granny Zhang's sharp laughter and withered old hand clenched his neck, pulling him towards the cauldron. Her strength was immense, and Zhang De gasped for air, feeling the threat of death. He forcefully pulled out a cup filled with black dog's blood from his pocket and slammed it onto Granny Zhang's head, spilling the crimson black dog's blood over her. She began to sizzle, and in a moment, she dissolved into a pool of black filth. Exhausted, Zhang De sat on the ground, panting heavily. Seeing the remains of the host zombie, he breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that those who had come before had all been killed by the chief zombie!
By qiang wang2 years ago in Fiction
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James Patterson and Aaron Cooley's "Justice" transports readers to a world of high-stakes politics and intrigue as Sanaa Lathan's character, Justice Beth Garner, tackles a difficult task. Beth becomes entangled in a dangerous game of extortion and deception run by a mysterious organization as she wins a seat on the Supreme Court. With her life and career on the line, Beth has to make her way through a dangerous and deceptive world to find the truth and protect justice. Discover the story in a new way with audiobooks from Audible.
By Summarize Me2 years ago in Fiction
INYANI (THE TRUTH) - RAPHADU MAPHOTO
Firstly, Thank you for the opportunity to present this drama series to you. I pride myself in creating meaningful work that not only creates awareness but work that is catalyst to change. And I believe this is urgent and necessary work to building a more conscious “woke" South Africa .
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The sun beat down mercilessly on the savanna, turning the tall grasses a pale gold and baking the earth a dusty red. Leo, the king of the jungle, emerged from his shady den, his golden mane heavy with lethargy. His stomach, usually a contented rumble after a successful hunt, growled with a ferocious emptiness. Hunger gnawed at him, a persistent reminder of his empty belly.
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Memphis
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In the village, there was an old plum tree
In the village, there was an old plum tree Little Li lived in a village called Musang Village, which had a total of 20 households. Their houses were surrounded by mountains, and if not for a muddy path that led to the outside world, the place could be described as isolated. One evening after school, Little Li, Zhang Xiaohua, and Baozi, along with the half-grown child Dongping, sneaked into Old Man Li's plum orchard to steal and eat his plums. "Be careful," Little Li cautioned the others, "Old Man Li used to be a hunter, and we need to watch out for traps he may have set in the orchard." Little Li, the leader of the group with the most experience, reminded the others. "Hmm, I've picked up four sticks, everyone take one now."
By qiang wang2 years ago in Fiction
A Nighttime Talk at a Haunted Mansion
A Nighttime Talk at a Haunted Mansion I knocked on that door, a rather large one, yes, it's fair to say it was once again I who knocked. Some say that old mansions always conceal something—ghosts, for instance, which in my mind are like a painting. One that you think you understand, yet, in reality, it's an abstract piece beyond comprehension. A woman lived in this mansion three years ago, a young woman. Though she later took her own life, I've always felt she's still there, peering out from one of the rooms. From the very first moment I stepped inside, I felt a chill down my spine and tried to walk in slowly.The room, covered in dust, exuded an unusual deathly stillness. On a chair lay an old book, its pages yellowed—whose it was, I couldn't tell. And somehow, I caressed that layer of dust easily, imagining the woman's continued presence, tight and real. Yet, everything seemed as futile as grabbing at a ghost's heels, utterly fruitless. After my casual observation upon entering, I didn’t pay much heed to the surroundings, leisurely wandering through the dead stillness of the room. There was a diary, placed squarely on the desk, its pages ruffled by the wind.Wait, the woman didn't want to die, so how could she have committed suicide? The dates were blurred and illegible, the ink smudged and discolored. From April 4th, looking at everything in the room, my body couldn't help but shudder. The woman must have suffered endless agony before her death—extreme, excruciating pain. I almost felt like tearing my scalp off, begging for the torment to end, that cursed voice. I looked at the diary, puzzled. Was the woman hallucinating? She was hiding in a corner on the second floor, I thought, as my hand touched that mosquito bite, feeling her terror, her pain.Drip, drop, drip, drop—the faint sound of footsteps seemed to come from the second floor. I was about to pick up the diary when I realized that, just like the other days, it seemed a hand had touched my shoulder. I looked back in echo, but saw nothing. I groped my way toward the old, rotting staircase, its wooden steps creaking. I used to visit this old house often, but, hmm...Listening to the creaking noise, it felt harder to bear. Moonlight shone through the skylight above, the chill of its touch evident as I felt it. The strange tapping footsteps from upstairs continued to prick my nerves. I should go have a look, an unusual impulse in my heart. Crossing the twelve steps of the ladder felt like walking through a dream, dust flying in my face, mingling with invisible cobwebs, the chandelier above unusually bright.A plump spider rested on its web, and I gently touched its silk; it ran away as if frightened. The second floor this time appeared as an undiscovered paradise, with several medieval portraits hanging in the uppermost corner. The woman in them was exceptionally beautiful, her hair, eyes, nose, lips—all seemed just perfect. Oddly, the edges of her frame were fastened with large, rusted staples. After so many years, the stale water left behind was like snow, lasting only a week.The previous volume might dwell on the larger environment, but all this was clearly not in black and white style. I chuckled bitterly, reaching out to touch that photograph. To my surprise, I cried out—the sensation I just felt was unmistakably that of skin. How could it be possible? It was my own touch, indeed, the texture of skin. Could this be made of human skin? My flashlight fell to the ground, the moonlight still cold, casting an eerie light on the portrait. Carefully, I prepared to pick up my flashlight—tap, tap, tap—the footsteps, this place hadn't been inhabited for many years.Ah, but why would it be a hallucination? Yet when I shone my flashlight, it was just a rat. Once more sweeping the flashlight over that painting, the subject had died in 1997. An ominous feeling came over me, a line of small text written beneath that album. I realized my hand was wet, as if I had just touched that stale water. Ungraciously, I leaned against the wall, then slowly stood up. A deathly silent corridor approached, carrying a pungent smell. It was said that the woman had committed suicide on the second floor of her home, and that when she died, her body still hung from the beam.As I carelessly opened that door, aside from the so-called rumors, there was nothing more. I smiled faintly; it seemed my brave ghost house plan was spoiled. I slowly walked out of the room, heading back downstairs, so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. One, two, three, four, five... Thirteen steps. Something seemed wrong; the staircase should only have twelve steps. I shone the flashlight behind me—twelve steps, no more, no less. So what was that extra footstep I heard? Just as I was about to quietly ponder,What was going on, I suddenly heard the tapping footsteps from upstairs again. Damn that rat, I cursed fiercely. When had that diary on the desk been opened? I was sure it was closed before. Touching the diary now, the smell of blood hit me. My God, wasn't that just stale water? Why did it seem like I just touched something on that wall? I quickly grabbed the flashlight and went upstairs, then froze. In the flickering light of the flashlight, when had that woman in the photograph taken on a weird smile?The woman's face in the picture showed a bizarre curve, fleeting as a flash. I rubbed my eyes and searched the wall with the flashlight again. There, a face slowly emerged from within the wall, the part I had just wiped with my finger still marked with my blood. Let me out, a voice with an alluring timbre pierced my eardrums. I realized more and more that the face was just like the portrait pinned to the wall with large staples. I ran downstairs in horror, but before I could take a step, a gust of wind sounded beside my ear. You always liked coming here to see me, didn't you? So today,Stay with me, a plea filled with terror. I stumbled on the first step of the staircase, desperately rushing toward the great door. Damn it, who closed the door? I shook the door violently, feeling a chill on my back, something gently patting me. Come, stay with me, the voice eerily hollow. Three years ago today, and now, three years later.
By qiang wang2 years ago in Fiction
The Man Who Survived for 18 Months On an Island After His Submarine Sank..!!
Despite the fact that they are integral assets of fighting, submarines are likewise little, rank, and stodgy spots to be. Envision the startling experience of tumbling to the sea floor in a breaking down submarine. This was a horrendous situation for the English Naval force, took part in perfectly clear waters with Italian maritime powers during the Mediterranean venue of The Second Great War. Tragically, profundity charge strikes, mines, and ethereal bombings transformed the Mediterranean into a deadly snare for submarines working on the two sides.
By Abdur Rahman 2 years ago in Fiction
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In 2013, despite the climb of web pictures and viral examples, the globe was shaken by two huge events: the spread of the Harlem Shake and a meteor crash in Russia. The last occasion incorporated a 20 broad stone flying through the World's air, checking whatever amount of the prominent Eiffel Zenith and completing in an unpleasant shoot over the Russian city of Chelyabinsk. This city of more than a million people saw a tremendous show, which was shot in shocking clarity by the general scramble cams found on various Russian vehicles. The going with shockwave, identical to the force of 26 Hiroshima bombs, released demolition on the city, destroying in excess of 7,000 designs and hurting a normal 1,500 people.
By Abdur Rahman 2 years ago in Fiction
