Did you know what's more terrifying than a huge spider you saw in the corner of your ceiling room? It's when you lose that spider that scares you most. And f*ck, that's what's happening right now.
I dared not step any centimeter inside my wretched room. I just scanned inside, nervously, trying to prepare myself for any jump scares. From the gaps between the slightly opened doors of my closet to the nooks and crannies of my desk, drawers, and even the small cracks in the ceilings, I searched without blinking my eyes even once.
But, nothing. No sign of that creepy ghost child.
Just recalling that eerie smile and giggles made me tremble. From its appearance, it was probably a young boy. Its stomach was bloated like that of a malnourished kid, with a body similar to a skeleton. Its large head has short hair, sunken eyes, a foaming mouth, and a nose excreting black liquid.
"I need to get out of here."
Even though the outside world is no better, I can't stay inside this place. There's no food, there's no one to talk to, and the house is depressing.
I wiped the sweat that trickled down my forehead and swallowed my fear. Even though my legs were still shaking, I decided to walk inside. Nothing will happen if I don't face my fears. Right now, I might be a twelve-year-old kid, but I'm actually twenty-seven already.
I'm an adult.
Be brave, Atlas.
Like a game that starts to play after the character enters the scene, the bed begins sinking again. I watched silently; my eyes already focused under the bed where the child would soon be crawling.
And alas! The ghost child appeared in the corner of the ceiling instead, crawling on the wall, getting closer and closer to him.
"Hihihihihihi...hihihi…"
All of my hair stood. My feet nailed on the floor; eyes locked on the pool of darkness within the ghost child's eyes.
Before I knew it, I was already hypnotized. At least, I knew what I was looking at, but I couldn't move my body or even open my mouth to shout. I just stood there like the Statue of Liberty, except the hand, looking up at the wall where the ghost child was pasted.
Even when the grimy and chipped nails of the ghost gripped my neck, I couldn't flinch nor push it away. It cupped my face and bore its eyes on me, stopping only an inch away from me.
Normally, I would have slapped the dirty hands away, but my mind was completely blank and my pupils were witnessing a completely different scene.
Within the ghost's eyes existed a play that changed as the ringing sound of a distant bell occupied my head. Like a roll of film, each scene had a different plot and setting, yet there was only one main character.
A boy at an early age.
A malnourished body wearing ragged clothes, thick hair that hadn't been washed for a few days, sunken cheeks and chapped lips, eyes that almost rolled out of his gaunt face, yet remained vibrant and hopeful.
I shuddered at the familiar sight.
I watched the boy grovel in waste bins in search of food.
The boy trying to sneakily climb a tree full of fruits in someone's backyard, just to get something for his grumbling stomach. He would get caught and shooed away, being treated like a dog. On rainy days, he would find a tree with large protruding roots and would curl underneath its shade, enduring the cold winds and the piercing raindrops.
Despite the hardships, the poor boy will stand again when a sunny day comes. He would stroll on the street, leaping around while scanning the area for a meal. If he failed to beg strangers for a tiny bit of share or a single coin, he would then resort to finding a tree abundant with fruits. The wide smile on his lips never disappeared, to the point that passersby thought that he was a young child that lost his mind.
But the kid was simply grateful for being alive.
Then, the last scene rolls. It was the boy crying over a dead body before the play ended and I snapped in reality. The chilling presence of the ghost child, who was now standing before me, disappeared.
How could I even fear him now?
"This is unbelievable."
I muttered as I punched my chest because it tightened. I shook my head, cupped my face, and inhaled deeply.
I see. I know now. This child standing before me isn't a ghost. This place I got thrown into isn't real. It was merely a space that trampled my mentality; mocking me for my abandoned principles.
I stared at the child again.
If the 'door' is this kid, then what is the key?
What should I do to escape from this place? Because any minute longer, I could feel the growing coldness within my heart. The thing that I had already buried long ago was crawling back to me.
With a weary voice, I asked the child, "You…you're the 'door' right? What do you want? To escape this place, I needed the key. Tell me where it is."
The darkness within the child's eyes shook, but he never spoke. Instead, he extended his arms and brought his empty palms to me, as if asking for something.
"What do you want?! Speak!!"
The child remained silent; he merely nudged his open palms to me. What? What does he need? What did I…want before?
I was stunned after realizing what it meant. My hands slightly trembled, and a crooked yet sad smile formed on my face.
"Really…? You're so pathetic, Atlas."
I turned my back on the kid and went out the door.
I quickly headed to the kitchen where I was, again, greeted by a headless lady in white filling the rotten slices of bread with her blood. As soon as I appeared at the entrance, the headless lady turned her body towards me and extended her hand holding out the slice of bread.
"Even now, you're giving me food…"
I finally realized this damned set-up, since at the beginning, the headless lady had been trying to help me. I stood there for a while; my body no longer feared the ghostly appearance before my sight.
How could I be frightened by the one who picked me from the streets and raised me as her own?
How could I not realize the obvious hints of the place?
This two-story building was my home until I was twelve.
It was a boarding house that was run and managed by my benefactor, the lady who brought me to her home, clothed me, fed me, and sent me to school. I lived in this place for five years with the other tenants, before the landlady was murdered, and the house was claimed by her immediate family.
I was then thrown to the streets again, but that five years of having slept in a comfortable bed, fed with complete meals three times a day, and being able to go to school, was enough to make me forget where I came from. I was no longer able to endure the cold wind, the dusty and muddy ground, the rotten foods, and the scorn and pity that were hauled to me.
I learned to grab the pen and draw for people, from simple and innocent sketches to vulgar and naked paintings. To fill my stomach with a meal three times a day, to sleep on a soft mattress with a roof over my head, I chose to use my talent to where I could earn more money.
I lived a hard life.
But damn it all, after I finally reaped the fruits of my labors and endurance; just beginning to enjoy life more freely and conveniently; that goddamn tablet and the gigantic door appeared. It felt so unfair. I felt tricked.
If this is just a novel, then how cruel the author is, for giving me such a life? Am I destined to become the main character? I did not! I'm just a replacement, right? Why give me such a hard life in the beginning, then?!
I cursed you, whoever wrote this shitty world!
The headless lady nudged the bread closer to me, which brought me back to the present. I took the slice of bread and unconsciously mumbled a 'thank you' to the lady. And the headless lady, as if achieving her goal, threw the knife elsewhere and went somewhere. Like what my benefactor always did after giving me food to eat.
I went back to my room and found the child in the same position. I placed the slice of bread in his opened palms, and when the child bit on the bloody bread, my vision was almost blinded by a bright blue screen appearing before me.
[Congratulations!]
[You have successfully escaped the room!]
[A reward will be given within 24 hours]
[User will now return to the Real World]
My vision spun rapidly and my body got sucked by a strong force. I couldn't even say to the child who stared blankly at me – 'you're eating plenty and sleeping soundly, and you will also become a hero' before I disappeared from that place.
I wish I realized it sooner.