Lighting a cigarette, Gao Ming leaned against the door frame, silently watching everything.
He had been trapped in this room for three days, and the cause might have to be traced back to three days ago.
On the night of the Ghost Festival, he quit his job as a psychological counselor at Henshan Felon Prison, intending to become a full-time game designer and developer.
At 23:00 sharp, he took the last bus from Hanjiang City back to Hanhai City. At that time, he was designing a small game on the bus aimed at improving familial relationships and the quality of kinship. To support himself, he even embedded advertisements for his landlord's cake shop.
The game's main concept was to urge parents to spend more time with their children, to chat with them every night, to never neglect their feelings no matter how busy they were, highlighting that care is a duty, but companionship is love.
The number of passengers on the bus gradually dwindled, and around one in the morning, the bus inexplicably stopped in a tunnel. Gao Ming took off his headphones to investigate and discovered that he was the only person left on the bus, even the driver had disappeared.
He got off the bus with his luggage, and when he heard someone talking ahead, he quietly followed them.
A critical part of his memory was missing after that. Gao Ming didn't even know how he got home, only vaguely remembering that he saw something terrifying.
Filled with trepidation, he locked himself in his home, but at three o'clock in the morning, he awoke to the sound of knocking on the door. When he opened the door, he found his parents standing outside with a cake.
Gao Ming let his parents into the house and went to fetch slippers, but at this moment, he received a call from his own mother.
His mother said that Hanhai would have heavy rain for the next few days and hoped Gao Ming would take good care of himself and stay safe.
A chill instantly crawled up Gao Ming's spine. As he turned around, he saw his father and mother standing behind him with their heads drooped.
Birthday cake, companionship, father, and mother...
The scenes from the small game designed to enhance family affection had become reality, with some "minor" tweaks!
He had tried to escape, but outside the security door was pitch darkness, brimming with a chill as if connected to another abnormal world.
With no other choice, Gao Ming had to try to clear the game he had designed himself.
What family bonding game could possibly come with bizarre difficulties? Isn't it just that after the lights go out, mom and dad turn into monsters? Isn't it just that mom and dad come over every night? Isn't it just surviving in a home turned slaughterhouse until you're eighteen, letting mom and dad complete their accompaniment?
Recalling his experience over the past three days, Gao Ming's eyelids were trembling. Not to mention, he never wanted to eat cake again for the rest of his life.
Stubbing out his cigarette, Gao Ming pushed the final two "parents" into the bedroom, every mom and dad's faces began to distort, as if they were reluctant to let Gao Ming leave.
"Each time mom and dad come home, the number of candles on the cake increases. Turning eighteen is a rite of passage, and when eighteen candles appear, that's when I clear the game."
"I am grateful for your company, but if you truly were my mom and dad, you wouldn't want me to stay here, you would hope I could take you with me and leave."
When Gao Ming previously locked mom and dad in the bedroom, they had never shown such a fierce reaction, which just so happened to indicate that Gao Ming was about to clear the game he had designed.
Closing the bedroom door, Gao Ming felt the room temperature start to rise, the news broadcast on the TV become clearer, and even the storm raging outside seemed a bit more real.
"After three whole days, I can finally leave this damned place."
Quickly moving to the front door, Gao Ming peered outside through the peephole. The hallway was no longer pitch-dark, the dim light flickering uncertainly, as if heralding Gao Ming's escape from a certain place.
"My memories of that tunnel are a bit fuzzy. The reason my created game turned into reality must have something to do with that tunnel!"
Gao Ming felt he must figure it out soon because he was an avid mystery fan, his mind filled with more dead bodies than a public graveyard. If all of this turned real, then the whole city was in danger.
The lights in the hallway gradually vanquished the darkness, and just as Gao Ming was about to try opening the door, hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from the outside.
His heartbeat quickened, intently staring at the peephole with veins bulging on his arms.
"I should have cleared the game by now!"
Holding his breath, Gao Ming kept his gaze on the stairwell corner.
Moments later, a man in his twenties and six feet tall in a raincoat appeared outside the door, his expression somber as he surveyed the surrounding doors.
Gao Ming's eyes narrowed slightly. The figure of the man in the raincoat nearly matched the surveillance footage released by the police, and his heart, which had been suspended in fear, settled back down.
"You gave me a scare. It's just the Rainy Night Murderer; I thought it was my parents coming back."
Glancing back at the bedroom, there should be a reward for clearing the game, but Gao Ming himself didn't dare claim it. He wrapped a bandage around his leg, feigned injury, grabbed a trash bag, and opened the security door.
Moist, fresh air rushed into the house, and Gao Ming took a deep breath.
The Rainy Night Murderer was about to leave when he heard the door open. Rainwater slid down his hood as he struggled to conceal the excitement in his eyes and turned to grab the door.
"It's pouring outside, and you're soaked through. Come in and warm up," Gao Ming said without waiting for a reply, then hobbled over to reheat the food on the dining table.
Watching Gao Ming's defenseless back, the man in the raincoat entered the house. He scanned Gao Ming's "injured" left leg, then glanced at the half-eaten cake. The cozy atmosphere of the house further fueled his destructive urge, drawing out an exceedingly cruel smile.
This might just be your last ordinary and cozy night.