In the dim light of his bathroom, Chen's heart raced, the pulse in his chest a frantic drumbeat. His hands trembled around the knife, the blade glinting ominously. Just moments ago, he felt the cold grip of something—no, someone—pressing down on him. The sensation lingered like a chilling ghost, refusing to fade away.
After a minute of heavy breathing, he finally stood, the sweat on his brow mixing with the water that dripped from his body. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls, making the room feel alive with unseen presences.
"Did I really strike something?" Chen wondered, his mind racing back to the moment of panic. He stepped closer to the bathtub's edge, eyes darting to a faint mark left behind—a scuff on the porcelain. It shouldn't have been there. He had felt the pressure against his head; his instinct screamed that he had struck a figure, not the tub itself.
Grabbing his phone, still recording, he pressed play to review the footage. The screen flickered to life, showing him settling into the tub at 3:30 a.m. Everything appeared normal. No anomalies, just the gentle drip of water.
But at 3:44 a.m., when he lay back, the atmosphere shifted. The tension coiled in his stomach tightened further as he noted the stark contrast between the reality he experienced and what the screen portrayed. He had heard footsteps and a heavy thud against the door—yet, the recording captured none of it.
"Was it all in my head?" he muttered, a shiver creeping down his spine. The recording continued, displaying his rising unease as the seconds ticked away. A creeping dread began to set in.
Fifty seconds into the footage, something peculiar caught his eye. The calm reflection of his face turned distorted, veins pulsing visibly under his skin, a sickly hue taking over. Chen's breath quickened, heart thudding louder with each passing moment.
Then, as if summoned by his fear, a dark shape emerged from a nearby shard of broken mirror, slinking along the bathroom tiles with an almost predatory grace. It bore an unsettling resemblance to someone he knew—He Feng. Panic clawed at his throat.
The crucial moment approached; the video showed him nearing his limit. Just as Chen was about to surrender to the water, the shadow lunged, hands gripping his head with a vice-like force, muffling his screams.
He fought back, swinging the knife wildly. The creature flickered like smoke, only partially affected by his frantic blows. Desperation surged through him as he realized his life hung by a thread.
In that instant, the stuffed toys he had left scattered around the tub seemed to stir, animated by an unseen wind. The smallest one, the only one that had always felt somehow different, toppled onto the shard of glass, blocking the shadow's reflection.
With an instinctive motion, Chen swung the knife once more, and this time, the blade struck true. The dark figure dissipated with a ghastly wail, leaving only a shallow mark on the tub's edge—a reminder of his close call.
As the recording ended, Chen's mind raced with questions. The thrill of survival mixed with an overwhelming urge for vengeance. "I won't let it escape," he vowed, heart pounding with renewed resolve.
He carefully saved the footage, a tangible reminder of his brush with death. Picking up the small stuffed toy, he noticed its back was torn, soaked in water, yet he felt a strange kinship with it.
"What are you?" he wondered aloud. The existence of other worlds haunted him. Some entities were benevolent, while others harbored darkness.
He dressed quickly, urgency fueling his movements. The fragments of the shattered mirror lay scattered, remnants of a battle won but not concluded.
Examining the piece that had initially summoned the dark presence, he noticed water droplets cascading down its surface, forming a number: "3."
"What does this mean?" Panic surged. Was it a countdown? A warning?
"Three days to kill me?" he whispered, defiantly cursing the creature that had almost claimed his life. "I'll find you and end this."
Stepping back into the light, he allowed himself a moment to breathe, relief washing over him. Then, glancing at his phone, he saw an alert.
"Task successful!"
He had survived his first nightmare challenge—breathing underwater for sixty seconds. A surge of adrenaline mixed with triumph.
The message continued, detailing a reward: "Shadow Eye: enhanced vision to perceive hidden things."
Excitement bubbled within him; this was more than just survival. It was power.
Scrolling further, he found another notification: "Complete three challenges for new trial unlocks."
Curiosity piqued, he navigated to the section on "Spirit Affection." Names flickered on the screen—strange and foreign, yet all too familiar.
Suddenly, a chilling draft swept through the bathroom, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into darkness. The air thickened, charged with an electric energy that sent chills racing down his spine. Chen's breath caught in his throat as he felt a presence behind him, palpable and suffocating.
"Is anyone there?" he called, his voice wavering. The silence that followed was deafening, an oppressive weight that pressed against his chest. The shadows danced at the corners of his vision, whispering secrets just beyond his comprehension.
He fumbled for his phone, its screen providing the only light. As he turned, the beam illuminated a figure standing just beyond the doorway—pale, gaunt, and impossibly still. His heart leaped into his throat.
"Who are you?" he demanded, trying to sound brave, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. The figure did not respond, simply tilting its head, eyes hollow and dark, reflecting a void that seemed to draw in the light.
Chen took a step back, mind racing. The number from the mirror pulsed in his thoughts. Three. Was this the spirit of someone who had fallen victim to the creature? Or was it a harbinger of doom?
The figure stepped closer, a low whisper escaping its lips, a language he couldn't decipher but that sent shivers down his spine. As it moved, the air grew colder, the room thick with an oppressive darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.
In a panic, Chen lunged for the knife, gripping it tightly, the cold steel grounding him momentarily. "Stay back!" he shouted, brandishing the blade as if it could ward off the encroaching shadows. The figure paused, a flicker of confusion crossing its ethereal face, but then it smiled—a slow, chilling smile that hinted at unspeakable horrors.
"Help me," it whispered, a sound so mournful that it echoed in Chen's mind.
"Help you? You're just a shadow!" he retorted, his voice rising.
But something deep within him stirred—a sense of empathy, a haunting familiarity. What if it had once been alive? What if it had a story, just like him? The realization sent a jolt of fear through him.
"I won't be your pawn," Chen spat, forcing his feet to move backward, away from the apparition. "You're not taking me!"
Just then, the door creaked open further, revealing the darkened hallway behind. The atmosphere thickened, shadows stretching and curling like tendrils, beckoning him into the abyss. He felt an overwhelming urge to flee, to escape the suffocating dread that surrounded him.
With a burst of adrenaline, Chen bolted past the figure, plunging into the hallway. Each step echoed like thunder, his breath a frantic rhythm as he raced down the corridor, the oppressive darkness chasing him, whispering promises of despair.
He skidded to a stop in the living room, heart pounding, desperately searching for something—anything—that could provide safety. The walls closed in, lined with mirrors reflecting distorted versions of himself, faces twisted in fear.
As he turned to flee back to the bathroom, he froze. The figure had followed him, its presence now a shadow on the wall, stretching and warping.
"Help me!" it cried again, but this time the sound morphed into a cacophony of voices, rising and falling like a storm.
Chen felt his resolve crumbling. "What do you want from me?" he shouted into the swirling darkness.
The figure raised its hand, fingers elongated and skeletal, pointing toward a larger mirror at the far end of the room. "In there… you'll find the truth."
The thought of looking into another mirror filled him with dread, but something compelled him. What truth could it possibly reveal?
With a deep breath, he approached the mirror, every nerve in his body on high alert. The surface shimmered like water, reflecting not just his image but a landscape of twisted nightmares—a world filled with dark figures lurking just out of sight.
As he leaned closer, the voices crescendoed, swirling around him, urging him to look deeper. "Face it! Face the darkness within!"
And with that, he plunged into the mirror, body trembling, heart racing, ready to confront whatever lay ahead.