Chris sat quietly, staring at his phone screen. The spinning wheel of the lottery app was slowing down, inching toward a result. With a soft chime, the wheel came to a stop.
"Congratulations! You have won a rare item: Cursed Love Letter (Chance of winning: 0.3%)!"
Chris blinked in disbelief as he read the description:
"Her eyes bulged, her face pale as death. From the moment she plummeted from the rooftop, she became a forbidden legend on campus. The red shoes, the bloodstained uniform, and even her name are taboo subjects. People pretend to forget, but the curse lives on. One day, someone else will receive her love letter…"
He let out a deep breath. "First try and I hit the jackpot. And it's a ghost?! A cursed item with a 0.3% chance? This is a nightmare!"
Chris glanced back at the notification on his phone.
"Rare Title Unlocked: Ghost's Favor."
"Ghost's Favor: Wearing this title may increase your chances of receiving assistance from a malevolent spirit."
His mind raced as the implications hit him. "A cursed love letter? A ghost's favor? I haven't even figured out what's going on with the mirror spirit yet, and now I've got this to deal with?"
Panic bubbled beneath the surface, but Chris forced himself to stay calm. "Okay, just breathe. It's not like the ghost will show up immediately. I still have time to figure things out. Maybe I should head to a temple, pray for some protection…"
Just as he was putting his phone away, his fingers brushed against something unfamiliar in his pocket. He looked down, pulling out an old, yellowed piece of paper that wasn't there before. His heart sank.
Trembling, Chris unfolded the letter. The writing, made from strands of hair, spelled out a chilling message:
"I like you."
Fear clawed at him. "Calm down? How can I calm down? You like me? Can I change my life choices, please?"
The writing was elegant, almost graceful, if it hadn't been woven from hair. Chris grimaced, holding the note at arm's length.
"I never thought the first love letter I'd receive in my life would come from a ghost," he muttered, standing alone in the dimly lit room of the haunted house attraction he owned.
"Boss, what are you mumbling about?" Wendy Xu, his assistant, walked in from the adjacent room, where she had been setting up paper figures for their latest display.
Chris quickly folded the letter and shoved it into his pocket. "Nothing important. I was just pondering something existential. Like, if someone knew they didn't have long to live, should they let go of everything and focus on what truly matters? You know, contribute to humanity's future, perhaps?"
Wendy, who had her makeup done in a way that resembled a funeral parlor doll, raised an eyebrow at him. "Boss, are you talking about starting a family or something?"
Chris shrugged, playing it off as a joke. "Well, who knows? Maybe I'm thinking about settling down, contributing to society by, uh, ensuring the survival of the species."
To his surprise, Wendy's expression turned thoughtful, her face becoming more serious as she considered his words.
"Wait, hold on! Wendy, are you actually thinking about it? This is just hypothetical! I mean, we've worked together for a while, we're a good team, but I wasn't… I mean, it doesn't have to be so serious, right?"
Wendy snapped out of her thoughts. "No, no, it's not that, boss. You just… you have two shadows."
Chris froze. "What?"
She pointed behind him. "You have two shadows. Is that some new part of the haunted house experience?"
He spun around. Sure enough, a second shadow—large and twisted—stretched out from behind him. It moved closer, merging with his own.
"What the hell!" Chris grabbed Wendy by the wrist, pulling her toward the door.
They rushed outside, and Chris didn't stop running until they were bathed in the warmth of the midday sun. He leaned against the side of the haunted house, heart pounding, while Wendy caught her breath beside him.
"You've been acting strange lately, boss. Is everything okay? You seem paranoid, like something's always following you. Maybe you're stressed out." Wendy sat down next to him on the steps. "You need to relax. Everything's going to work out fine. What do you want for lunch? I'll go grab us something."
Chris tried to smile, though it felt forced. "I'll have whatever you're having. Oh, and do me a favor—wipe off that creepy makeup before you scare the cooks."
"Sure thing." Wendy nodded and went inside.
Once she was gone, Chris pulled out the letter again, staring at it in the daylight. "I swear I saw those shadows merge. Does this mean the ghost is already here, hiding in my shadow?"
Chris gazed at the dark outline cast by his body on the ground. "I have the Ghost's Favor title. If this thing actually works, maybe having a ghost around won't be the worst thing. Maybe it'll help me."
He tried to convince himself, though deep down he knew the truth. Ghosts, especially those bound by curses, were not to be trusted. They were driven by malice, their twisted desires often leading to disaster.
After a tense lunch break, Chris took his spot at the entrance of the haunted house, holding a stack of flyers. Tourists passed by in droves, but few ventured inside. Business had been slow, leaving him with too much time to think about cursed love letters and ghostly shadows.
With nothing better to do, he opened his short video app, noticing several new messages in his inbox. He sifted through the usual hate mail and random nonsense before pausing at a message from Ethan Hayes, a medical student at a nearby university.
Ethan had been one of Chris's most loyal customers, always intrigued by the macabre atmosphere of the haunted house. The message was short and panicked:
"Dude, the school's buzzing right now! After hearing our department's star student got scared to tears in your haunted house, a bunch of seniors are planning to storm the place. There's already a post circulating online, and people are signing up to join!"
Chris chuckled, amused by the thought of a group of university students marching on his haunted house, fueled by adrenaline and bravado. "Ah, youth. Full of energy and so easily spooked."
He could already picture it—dozens of muscle-bound guys, huddled together in terror, shaking like leaves in his haunted attraction.
"Maybe I'll let them test the new cursed scenario I've been working on," Chris mused. "Let's see if they can handle the infamous one-star scare."
As the day wore on, Chris became more focused. His mind returned to the special trial he had unlocked earlier. It was a one-time-only mission, and if he failed, the corresponding cursed scenario would remain locked forever.
He pulled out his phone and reread the details of the mission, memorizing every line.
"Survive one night in the abandoned apartment complex in West Hollow, find the hidden killer, and expose the truth behind the deaths."
"West Hollow Apartments…" He typed the name into a search engine, but came up empty. After scrolling through several pages of irrelevant results, he found a single post on a local real estate forum.
The post was a complaint from nine months ago, accusing a seller of hiding the apartment's bloody history. According to the post, the walls had been stripped away, revealing stains of dried blood, and a foul odor permeated the place at night. No one had followed up on the complaint, and the thread had died.
"Great," Chris muttered. "A murder apartment with a hidden killer. I didn't sign up for this."
His degree in toy design had prepared him for making creepy dolls, not unraveling ghostly mysteries. Investigation and deduction were skills he sorely lacked.
"This is going to be tough," he admitted. "I'm not afraid of the apartment, but if the killer's still hanging around, I might end up as their next target…"
Chris pocketed his phone, sighing as he stared into the distance. His cursed journey was just beginning.