Chapter 7: Footsteps From Behind
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Miles felt his vitality draining rapidly, his legs shaking as he swayed on the verge of collapsing. His chest heaved, each inhalation deeply etching the harsh sting of cold sweat that traced its way down his face.
Just moments before, he had found himself precariously close to the edge of death.
“I cannot afford to stay here,” he gasped out, his words punctuated by labored breaths. “I need to get away immediately.”
Still reeling from his heart-stopping encounter with a ghost, he had barely had a moment to grapple with his chilling brush with death.
He scrambled for his phone in haste, clumsily activating the flashlight feature before forcing his trembling body upright.
In the oppressive gloom, a ghostly apparition lingered, its ghostly presence pulling him closer to death’s door the longer he tarried. As fear crept insidiously into his very marrow, he steeled himself and ventured deeper into the enveloping darkness.
As his feeble light pierced through the darkness, he caught sight of Peng and Fei. Their faces were etched with pure terror as they pounded frenetically on a dilapidated wall overgrown with age-old mold.
“Who’s there?” Fei’s voice wavered, unable to conceal his dread as he noticed the faint glimmer of light.
Miles, his expression hardened, lifted his phone high, announcing with a resonant voice, “It’s me, Miles.”
“Miles? You… you’re still alive?” Fei stuttered, his words laced with disbelief.
“And you, along with Jing, intended for me to meet my end, didn’t you?” Miles retorted.
His nerves worn, Peng lunged forward in desperation, clutching Miles in a vice-like grip fueled by terror and panic. “Why drag me into this? We had no disagreement, so why harm me?”
Miles responded with a swift punch, growling, “You wished for my demise too, didn’t you? You blame me for the sins of your past. I made a promise not to face death alone. My only regret is not dragging Jing into this nightmare. He should experience the dread of being stalked by a ghost.”
Stunned by the punch, Peng collapsed to the ground, momentarily oblivious to his pain. Amid his tears, he whimpered, “I… I just want to survive. Jing forced my hand. If I had not complied, that entity would have killed us all. Better one life than all of us.”
“So, I am to be your scapegoat?” Miles hissed. “If you’re such a martyr, why not offer yourself up? Instead, you manipulate others to take your place. And don’t delude yourself. Even if you had offered me up, do you believe you would have gotten away? Remember, the ghost is still out there. And Jing has wanted me dead right from the start. He must be concealing something, or he wouldn’t have singled me out. If I live through this, I will make him rue the day.”
Before he could complete his sentence, Peng trembled uncontrollably. A look of sheer terror washed over his face as he spun around to look behind him.
Amid the pitch-black void, he felt a bone-chilling hand grasp his wrist, although he could see nothing. With an eerie strength, the freezing grip pulled Peng backwards.
“Help me, Miles, please!” Peng’s scream echoed in the eerie silence, his voice saturated with raw fear.
Miles’s heart pounded in his chest, his eyes instantly drawn to the ghostly white hand that had latched onto Peng’s wrist with an unyielding grip.
A feeling of dread washed over him. There was no doubt – it was the same ghost they had encountered before.
Almost mechanically, his hand reached for his phone, his mind contemplating the audio file that had previously deterred the ghost.
But he froze midway through the motion.
Could he justify risking himself to save Peng?
He pondered the question momentarily before concluding.
Absolutely not.
His current dire circumstances were a direct result of the machinations of Jing, Peng, and Fei. Now, as they found themselves in the clutches of danger, why should he rush to their aid? They had thought nothing of leaving him behind when they sought out their individual escape paths. Even if he chose to intervene, the audio file could merely frighten the ghost; it didn’t possess the ability to inflict actual harm.
It had all been a grand bluff.
Did they seriously believe he had any less of a will to live than they did?
Jing had hit the nail on the head about one thing. In the past, he had been too naive. He’d dismissed Jing’s plots against him as harmless schoolyard rumors, failing to guard against them.
It was a lapse in judgment he was determined not to repeat.
Setting his phone aside, he stepped back, his expression impassive as he watched Peng being inexorably pulled into the encompassing shadows. Peng’s desperate pleas and terrified screams fell on deaf ears, muffled by the ghostly hand dragging him away.
An unsettling silence returned soon after, disturbed only by the slow, ominous drip-drip of water.
Shaking off his stupor, Miles drew in a deep breath in an effort to steady his trembling nerves and quell his mounting fear. Then, as if nothing had occurred, he reached for his phone and resumed his mission to find an escape route.
The ghost remained a threat. If he lingered any longer, he couldn’t guarantee his safety from its potential next strike.
Jing had hinted earlier that sacrificing human lives could buy some time against the ghost, and Miles had been plunged into this haunted maze because Jing had hoped to stall the ghost using his life as a decoy.
Given that the ghost had just claimed Peng, it was plausible that there might be a temporary reprieve before its next appearance. It was safe to infer he had a brief window to strategize.
That was his only ray of hope.
With this newfound determination, Miles redoubled his efforts to seek an exit.
“Miles, wait up! Don’t leave me behind!” Fei’s voice pierced the silence as he saw Miles preparing to depart, scrambling to stay up with.
But Miles responded with a frosty rejection, “Fend for yourself, don’t follow me. Do you genuinely believe I’d guide you to safety? Don’t forget, you’re a significant contributor to the reason I’m ensnared in this godforsaken place.”
Having delivered his blunt retort, he quickened his pace, fading into the all-consuming darkness as though the preceding ordeal had left him unscathed.
Given their shared history as classmates, choosing to leave Fei to face his fate here was already a considerable act of mercy. The ghost had taken Peng’s life and would undoubtedly be back to claim more victims. In such circumstances, it was a strategic move to leave Fei in the rear as the next likely target.
Fei, taken aback, hurried to follow, but found no sign of Miles; only the relentless, oppressive darkness was his companion.
“Miles, where are you? Reveal yourself, I meant no harm before, I’m sorry,” he implored in a trembling voice, his hands groping aimlessly in the impenetrable darkness, touching nothing as he staggered around without direction.
Before long, Fei was compelled to accept the bitter truth – he was lost.
Unable to locate Miles, he attempted to backtrack to the comfortingly familiar wall he had been leaning against earlier, but even that proved to be an elusive target in the void.
The place bore no resemblance to the restroom he knew but rather appeared to be an infinite expanse of shadows.
Fear gradually seized control of his senses, snuffing out the last glimmer of bravery he possessed.
Then, he heard the muffled sound of footsteps echoing behind him, drawing nearer with each sinister tap.
“Peng, is that… is that you?” Fei asked hesitantly, his voice wavering with fear.
Before he could complete his question, a ghostly hand materialized from the shadows, gripping his throat from behind.
Cold, rigid, devoid of any sign of life.
A blood-curdling scream ripped from Fei’s throat.
Meanwhile, Miles remained oblivious to Fei’s terrified cry, entangled in his own dilemma.
He too was lost in this endless chasm of darkness, just like his classmates.
“This can’t possibly be a restroom,” he concluded, a sense of impending doom settling over him.
The unfathomable darkness stretched endlessly before him, and the distance he had covered far exceeded the dimensions of any restroom.
Glancing at his phone, he noted with growing unease that twenty minutes had already elapsed.
To have spent twenty minutes trying to navigate through a restroom without encountering a single wall or stall was absurd.
The only logical deduction was that he had somehow ventured into an unexplored domain.
“Damn it, what is this confusing labyrinth? Why wasn’t this discussed during Right’s lecture?” Miles grumbled, his anxiety mounting.
Devoid of substantial information, he could not form any valid theories, let alone contriving an effective escape plan from this ghostly domain.
“Drip, drip.”
The rhythmic sound of falling water droplets echoed throughout the encompassing darkness.
“Hang on, the dripping noise had ceased for a period, why has it suddenly resumed?”
A lightbulb went off in Miles’s mind, and he promptly sought out the origin of the sound.
If indeed the water was dripping from a faucet, then the vicinity of the restroom must be near, suggesting that he could extricate himself from this haunted maze by locating the exit within its confines.
Cursing his previous obliviousness, Miles sped up his pace.
His stride faltered as his phone emitted a low battery warning. After a moment’s indecision, he reluctantly turned off his phone.
Contrarily, the looming ghost evoked a more profound fear in him than the encompassing darkness. With his phone as his only line of defense, it was essential to preserve the remaining battery for a critical moment.
He continued his journey, threading his way cautiously through the pitch-black surroundings.
In the ensuing silence, only the consistent sound of the dripping water could be heard, effectively magnifying the sound of his own breathing.
Just as he had adjusted to the impenetrable darkness, a series of footfalls echoed from somewhere behind him.
The footsteps were confident and steady, growing ominously closer with each passing moment.
Feeling the imminent threat, Miles’s body stiffened, a chill running down his spine. He swiftly activated his phone’s flashlight, casting a furtive glance over his shoulder.
The beam managed to penetrate a meter into the obscurity, revealing nothing but a cloak of undiluted darkness.
Regardless, the sound of the approaching footsteps was unmistakably drawing nearer.
“It couldn’t be Fei or Peng,” Miles reasoned, his expression taut with tension.
No living individual could trace his path with such precision through the pitch-black void.
If it wasn’t Fei or Peng, then the most likely suspect was the relentless ghost haunting the restroom.
“I need to run.”
As the footfalls continued their steady approach, an overwhelming sense of dread bore heavily on Miles, compelling him to quicken his steps.