Horror Game Designer

Chapter 45: Fear, Terrifying Fear

There was a scene of unbridled joy in the simple, unpretentious hallway of a modestly-sized rental apartment. Children, their faces lit up with the purest expressions of innocence and delight, were engaged in a lively game of chase, their laughter echoing through the air.

The sense of community was palpable as neighbors interacted warmly with one another. They favored genuine, face-to-face conversations, a refreshing change from the impersonal nature of digital communications. They strolled leisurely through the time-worn corridors of their building, a stark contrast to the virtual pathways they had become accustomed to navigating online.

Above them, bright red lanterns swayed gently, casting a festive glow. The residents of the apartment complex had transformed the space into a bustling marketplace of sorts. Along the corridors, a variety of makeshift stalls had sprung up. There were stalls showcasing a diverse array of handcrafted items, vibrant fabrics, and a surprising mix of services ranging from dental care to butchery, not to mention the tantalizing food stalls that dotted the area.

In the Sishui Apartments, there existed an unspoken pact, a communal understanding of safety and trust: “Thieves dare not tread these paths, and doors need not be locked at night.” This philosophy fostered a unique, closely-knit micro-community within the complex.

Secluded from the external world’s influences, the residents here seemed perpetually cheerful, their faces free from the burdens of worry or stress.

“A couple of new faces, are you here to view an apartment?” A friendly, comforting voice pierced the tranquil air as a young man, his attire reminiscent of a bygone era, approached Gao Ming and Zhu Miao Miao. He spoke with a hand discreetly covering his mouth, his eyes brimming with life and seemingly conveying their own message.

This young man, clearly a skilled service worker, displayed a readiness to assist any and all potential clients, regardless of their circumstances. Even in the presence of Gao Ming, who was currently in the unsettling predicament of transporting a corpse, his demeanor remained unfazed.

“Yes, we’re interested in seeing an apartment,” Gao Ming responded, doing his best to maintain a semblance of normalcy despite the circumstances. The red lanterns above bathed the area in a haunting, blood-red hue, adding an eerie, almost sinister quality to the corridor. In this ominous setting, monstrous figures leered with malicious intent, their stares reminiscent of predators sizing up their prey.

“I’m Gong Xi, a volunteer with the Hanhai Charity Association and also a rental agent for these apartments,” the young man introduced himself. As Gong Xi made way, he casually brushed some dust off his shoulder. The corridor, showing signs of age and history, was illuminated by the festive lanterns. The aroma of cooking meat filled the air, and the elderly neighbors were engrossed in preparing a feast, creating an atmosphere that felt like a large, communal family gathering.

Here, there were no grandiose displays of art or luxury, only the genuine warmth of everyday human connections. These simple yet profound moments of community life were the true gems to be valued and cherished.

“Opting for Sishui Apartments is a wise choice. Each apartment here tells its own unique story. Don’t just look with your eyes; truly immerse yourself in the environment to fully grasp its distinctive character,” Gong Xi advised them.

“Could you take us downstairs to have a look?” Gao Ming asked, feeling a profound disconnect between his perception of the world and that of Gong Xi.

“Certainly, do you have a specific floor in mind?” Gong Xi inquired, ready to guide them further.

“Let’s begin our tour on the fourth floor,” Gao Ming proposed, his decision influenced by information he had gleaned from Bai Xiao’s black ring. The ring indicated that the morgue and rooms were marked with white lanterns and were comparatively safe zones. Gao Ming’s priority was to establish a secure base of operations.

“The fourth floor?” Gong Xi raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, yet he was quick to accommodate the request, as customer preferences were paramount. “An excellent choice. The fourth floor has a number of available apartments, and coincidentally, it’s also where my residence is.”

As Gong Xi led the way, the trio – Gao Ming and Zhu Miao Miao, one burdened with a corpse and the other smeared with blood – passed by residents who seemed remarkably indifferent to their grim appearances.

“This place is quite peculiar,” Zhu Miao Miao murmured to Gao Ming, her curiosity piqued by Gong Xi’s persistent habit of covering his mouth.

“Just try to blend in and don’t ask too many questions,” Gao Ming cautioned her, recalling the stern warning they had received in Building B about the dire consequences of breaking local taboos. It was crucial for them to quickly learn the specific taboos of this building to avoid danger.

As they passed a makeshift butcher’s shop, the butcher tossed a piece of meat to Gong Xi. There, Gao Ming noticed several investigators trapped and terrified within the confines of cages. They were stripped of their clothing and reduced to a state of mute terror, capable only of making odd, animalistic noises.

The butcher, seemingly attuned to something amiss, kicked one of the investigators, then glanced towards Zhu Miao Miao and uttered, “So fresh.”

Having narrowly escaped the horrors of the ghost market on the ninth floor, Gao Ming and Zhu Miao Miao felt an immense sense of relief, almost as if they had been unburdened of a heavy load.

As they passed a public restroom on the ninth floor, Gong Xi nonchalantly discarded the piece of meat he had received earlier into a trash bin.

“Isn’t that a bit wasteful?” Gao Ming inquired, intrigued by Gong Xi’s behavior, which set him apart from the other ghostly entities they had encountered.

Gong Xi spread his hands in a gesture of indifference. “My family and I are vegetarians; we have no use for meat. Had I known earlier, I would have offered it to you.”

“No, that’s fine,” Gao Ming quickly declined, then ventured to ask about the silenced individuals in the butcher’s shop.

“They are offerings to the Flesh Immortal. They may resemble humans, but they are distinct from us,” Gong Xi explained, his demeanor exuding a blend of youthful energy and mature assurance, making him an oddly trustworthy and likable figure in this bizarre setting.

“So, that’s the situation,” Gao Ming murmured, processing this new information, while Zhu Miao Miao looked visibly disturbed.

“Are you certain about the fourth floor? The apartments on the eighth floor are quite nice too. You don’t have to settle for the fourth,” Gong Xi suggested softly as they continued their descent.

“Is there something wrong with the fourth floor?” Gao Ming inquired, sensing hesitation.

Gong Xi appeared momentarily uncertain before replying, “It’s not exactly the cleanest… What I mean is, it’s known to be haunted.”

Upon revealing this startling detail, Gong Xi lowered his hand from his mouth, exposing a shocking sight: his mouth had been sewn shut and was bizarrely stuffed with coins. This peculiar modification made it a complete enigma as to how he was able to articulate words.

Gao Ming tensed, instinctively preparing for a potential confrontation. He was on the verge of using Brother Zhao Xi as a weapon against this apparent monstrosity when Gong Xi quickly signaled with his hands, offering a cryptic warning: “Ghosts are a source of immense terror and can bring about calamities. Engaging with them might lead to the inadvertent breaking of taboos.”

“That advice isn’t particularly compelling coming from you,” Gao Ming responded, slightly taken aback. Despite the unsettling revelation, he didn’t perceive any ill intent from Gong Xi. The young man appeared to be sincerely focused on his role as a rental agent for the apartments.

“I’m serious,” Gong Xi cautioned with a tone of urgency. “Should you encounter a room adorned with white lanterns on the fourth floor, I advise you to flee without hesitation.”

As they proceeded downstairs, their path was lined with an array of bizarre and intimidating neighbors. Each of them seemed to be under the influence of the Flesh Immortal, their grotesque physical abnormalities manifesting their innermost desires.

Upon reaching the fourth floor, they were greeted by a noticeable hush, a stark contrast to the bustling activity of the other levels.

Gong Xi retrieved a hefty set of keys, preparing to show Gao Ming an apartment, when his attention was abruptly diverted. He spotted a figure donning a deep green outfit and a rat mask, unnaturally contorted against a door, his body seemingly merging with it.

“Building manager? What are you doing here?” Gong Xi quickly approached, attempting to dissuade the manager from his intent on the door. But his efforts were soon undermined as several children, also wearing rat masks and emanating a sinister aura, emerged from beneath the manager’s attire. Their red eyes bore a silent, menacing glare as they started clawing aggressively at Gong Xi.

In a critical moment, as the door lock seemed on the brink of being compromised, Gao Ming intervened. He seized one of the children and tossed them aside, while Zhu Miao Miao armed herself with a fire axe, ready to act.

The manager’s intense gaze, fixated on Gao Ming’s chest, was accentuated by the rapid blinking of the red eyes beneath the mask.

After a tense standoff, the manager eventually retreated, the masked children vanishing back into the folds of his garment.

“Thank you so much for your help today,” Gong Xi said, visibly shaken as he observed the ominous marks left on the door. “It seems I’ll need to find a new place to live now.”

“Who was that individual?” Gao Ming inquired, still feeling the unnerving mix of predation and fear in the manager’s stare.

“The one in the rat mask is our building manager. They are responsible for maintaining order here, but they never communicate verbally.”

“Why did the manager target you? Are you concealing something?” Gao Ming, noting inconsistencies in Gong Xi’s narrative, pressed further. “If you’re facing trouble, let me know. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

As they stood at the threshold, Gong Xi, usually quite cooperative, hesitated. After a moment of silence, an elderly, wrinkled face slowly emerged from within the apartment.

“Little Gong, are you back?” The voice, tinged with age and concern, broke the silence, revealing yet another layer to the unfolding mystery.

As Gao Ming and Zhu Miao Miao peered into the apartment, they were greeted by the sight of an elderly woman, appearing to be in her nineties, yet remarkably unscathed amidst the chaos.

“Don’t come out, Grandma!” Gong Xi’s voice carried a note of deep concern, his expression turning grave at the thought of what might happen to her in the presence of Gao Ming.

The elderly woman, frail and appearing somewhat disoriented, slowly opened the door and surveyed the group with a puzzled look. “Who are you people? Why are you at my home? Are you friends of Little Gong?”

Her confusion hinted at dementia, as she didn’t seem to recognize Gong Xi. Seizing the moment, Gao Ming reassured her, “Yes, we’re friends of Gong Xi. We just stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

“Then please, come in. My grandson, he’s always been so diligent and kind-hearted, though life hasn’t been kind to him,” she responded, leaning heavily on her cane as Gao Ming cautiously stepped inside the apartment.

With a resigned air, Gong Xi motioned them to enter: “Come in, then.”

The interior of the apartment was modest but inviting, adorned with numerous photographs of Gong Xi and the old woman, reflecting a life shared together.

As Gao Ming held the elderly woman’s hand, a startling realization dawned on him – she was a living, breathing person, an anomaly in this realm of shadows and spirits!

“You’ve probably figured it out by now,” Gong Xi spoke up as he closed the door. “My grandma is a ghost. She died but somehow stayed here with me. I guess she was always too worried about me to leave.”

“She’s a ghost?” Gao Ming looked bewilderedly at Gong Xi. “And you consider yourself human?”

“Isn’t that the reality?” Gong Xi responded, beginning to unfold his life story, a narrative steeped in trials and resilience. His tale began with his parents moving to Hanhai for work, only to mysteriously vanish. In response, his devoted grandmother brought young Gong Xi to Hanhai, hoping to find his missing parents. Their life was marked by hardship and constant relocation, all while his grandmother tirelessly sought any clue of his parents’ whereabouts. Gong Xi grew up under these strenuous conditions, his grandmother being his sole guardian and support, nurturing him with unwavering dedication.

They resided in an apartment provided by a local charity, and Gong Xi, recognizing the burden their circumstances placed on his grandmother, matured into a remarkably responsible and industrious individual. He took on multiple jobs daily to alleviate her hardships. The bond between Gong Xi and his grandmother was exceptionally strong; they were each other’s sole support and companionship, a relationship that endured until her passing.

In a perplexing turn of events, Gong Xi one day discovered his deceased grandmother aimlessly wandering the building, no longer recognizing him, a haunting and mysterious twist in their shared story.

This narrative was Gong Xi’s version of events, yet Gao Ming was soon presented with a starkly different story from the elderly woman herself.

As she clutched a photo frame featuring Gong Xi, the old lady shared her heartfelt regrets and sorrows. She expressed deep guilt for having unwittingly drawn Gong Xi into a nomadic existence in Hanhai, a decision she felt had ultimately derailed his life.

She disclosed her encouragement for Gong Xi to become involved with the charity organization. Tragically, according to her, Gong Xi had accidentally uncovered some forbidden secrets within the building and had subsequently vanished without a trace. Since his disappearance, she had been relentlessly searching the building for her grandson, but her efforts had been fruitless.

“My grandmother transformed into a ghost and now lives in confusion,” Gong Xi explained, sitting tenderly beside the elderly woman, his hand gently enveloping her weathered one. “She’s lost many of her memories, even failing to recognize me.”

Gao Ming, connecting these two conflicting accounts, glanced back at Gong Xi and was met with a chilling reality. The sight of Gong Xi’s mouth, gruesomely stitched shut and filled with coins, lent a macabre credence to the old lady’s version of the story.

The scene before Gao Ming was one he had never anticipated encountering within the building – a living, breathing person and a ghost coexisting side by side on a bed. Until now, he had perceived these ghostly tales from the shadow world as mere fabrications, but the harsh truth was evidently more complex.

Compelled by this disconcerting discovery, Gao Ming turned to Gong Xi with a hesitant inquiry, “Gong Xi, aren’t you scared by the fact that your only family has become a ghost?”

“Of course I’m scared,” Gong Xi responded, his grip on the old woman’s hand unwavering. “I’m scared by the thought that she might be constantly worrying about me – whether I’m eating properly, sleeping enough, if I’m being mistreated by others, and the dreadful possibility of her vanishing without a trace one day.”

Moved by Gong Xi’s heartfelt confession, Gao Ming felt an urge to confront the old woman with the truth. He knelt in front of her, gently taking her other hand. “Granny, if Gong Xi were to return, even as a ghost, would that frighten you?”

The old woman slowly nodded, her voice imbued with a deep sense of melancholy. “Yes, I would be scared… scared that I wouldn’t be able to recognize him any longer.” Her words, laden with sadness, echoed a profound fear of losing the essence of their cherished relationship amidst the spectral confusion surrounding them.