Chris had always prided himself on his calm demeanor and unshakeable resolve. Yet, as he sat in the dimly lit bathroom of his haunted house, even his steely nerves were tested. The game, designed to push his limits, was in its final minutes, and every sound, every flicker of the candle, seemed amplified in the oppressive silence.
The bathroom was a chilling arena. The faint sound of dripping water from the ceiling created an eerie melody, while the occasional rustle from the darkened drain hinted at unseen creatures. The door of the bathroom stall creaked intermittently, adding to the dissonance. Despite the unsettling ambiance, Chris focused on his task: enduring the challenge until the final second.
Minutes dragged on. Chris could feel the temperature dropping, a cold that seemed to seep into his very bones. He shivered involuntarily, but he forced himself to stay composed. "Stay calm," he whispered to himself, "Just ten more minutes. No matter what, I need to hold out."
As he counted the seconds, the whisper of a breeze hinted at something—someone—moving around him. He tightened his fists, veins bulging, but his body remained as still as a statue. He could hear his name being called in a haunting whisper, coming from outside the door. It was an eerie echo, almost as if someone—or something—was trying to reach him.
"No, this must be a trick," Chris thought. The rules were clear: he only needed to stay in front of the mirror. He had no reason to investigate the source of the voice. He could tell it was just another part of the psychological assault designed to break his focus.
The final three minutes were the most harrowing. The door to the bathroom began to rattle, as if someone was scratching and clawing at it from the other side. The sound was sharp and desperate, creating an atmosphere of impending doom. Chris's eyes remained shut, counting each second in his mind until he reached the thirty-minute mark.
"Thirty minutes," he murmured. As he opened his eyes, he was met with an unsettling sight. The bathroom was pitch black. The candle had long since extinguished. Chris's flashlight revealed a scene that defied reason.
The mirror was cracked, the once-reflective surface now shattered into numerous fragments. And in front of the broken mirror stood a tattered doll. Its button eyes glimmered faintly, and its patched body was stuffed with cotton. This doll was not merely a prop; it was his first creation, a token from his missing parents.
"How did this doll get in here?" Chris wondered aloud. "Did it come through the window?" He quickly dismissed the idea. The real question was how the doll seemed to have a life of its own. The world he thought he knew seemed to be unraveling.
He took a deep breath and approached the doll with caution. Its button eyes seemed to follow him, unblinking. Chris carefully moved around it and retrieved his phone. He had kept the camera rolling throughout the ordeal, and now he needed to review the footage.
The video, though not perfectly clear, captured the tension of the night. The first ten minutes were uneventful, but things began to shift around the eleventh minute. The camera recorded the stall door moving slightly, an indication of the unnerving atmosphere. By the twenty-fifth minute, Chris's posture had hunched over, his face nearly touching the mirror.
Suddenly, the mirror started to crack. The sight was horrifying. Then, as if the mirror itself had gained a malevolent will, his reflection grinned savagely and slammed into the glass. The candles went out, and the video ended abruptly.
Chris was left stunned. The footage did not explain the doll's presence or the final five minutes of the ordeal. "The doll must have somehow intervened," he mused. It seemed to have blocked whatever entity was trying to break through.
Holding the doll close, Chris spoke softly, "Can you understand me? Do you know where my parents are?" The doll's button eyes remained unresponsive, but Chris could not shake the feeling that it had played a crucial role in his survival.
As he examined the black phone in his hands, a notification flashed. "Congratulations! You've completed the Nightmare Difficulty daily task. Reward: Beginner's Skill—Embalming."
The message continued, "Embalming: Unlike cosmetic makeup, embalmers prepare the dead to give them a renewed, eternal beauty. This skill can transform not just appearance but also the essence of life and death."
Chris was intrigued. He had successfully completed a task at the highest difficulty level and was rewarded with a new skill that could alter his very being. He understood that this could be a significant advantage in the perilous world he was navigating.
Before he could dwell on this, he noticed the rising popularity of his video. His original upload had gained massive traction on paranormal forums, and the short video he posted on a popular social media platform had gone viral. The comments were a mix of awe, terror, and skepticism.
"High energy at 25:14!"
"This uploader must be insane to do this at night!"
"Why did the mirror crack on its own? What was that thing that slammed against the glass?"
Chris observed the growing number of followers and comments with a mix of satisfaction and amusement. He had struck a chord with the public, and the haunted house was now a topic of significant interest.
"You know, it seems like people are really interested in this," Chris chuckled as he updated his profile with the haunted house's address, cheekily labeling it as "A Not So Scary Haunted House."
The next morning, Chris awoke to sunlight streaming through the window. He noticed scratches on the doorframe, remnants of the night's horrors. It was a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of his business.
At 8:45 AM, just before opening, a young girl with vibrant energy rushed toward him. "Boss!" she called out.
The girl, Wendy Xu, was the epitome of youthful enthusiasm. Her face was radiant, and she seemed to embody the very spirit of optimism. "Wendy, you're just in time. I've added a new background track to our sound library. Let's check it out," Chris started, but Wendy's excitement cut him off.
"I just heard that a lot of people are talking about our haunted house at the park entrance! They're even lining up to experience it!" Wendy's excitement was palpable. "Boss, we have visitors!"
Chris feigned nonchalance. "Isn't that normal? It's just a haunted house, after all." However, his own phone confirmed the surge in interest. The number of followers and comments had skyrocketed, with many expressing their fear and fascination with the video.
"Well, it seems we've stirred up quite a buzz," Chris said, his tone indicating a mix of pride and concern. "We're about to have a busy day. Let's get ready for the influx of visitors!"
As he prepared for the day, Chris knew that the haunted house business was about to face a new level of challenge. But with the new skill and the growing interest, he felt ready to face whatever came next.
The adventure was far from over, and the real test of his haunted house had only just begun.