Chereads / My Name Is Lucifer, and I'm Afraid of Ghosts. / Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: A Meeting in the Mist

Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: A Meeting in the Mist

The rain continued to fall, though it had eased into a gentle drizzle. Lucifer stumbled out of the convenience store empty-handed, frustration etched across his face.

"This damned place… making people pay with phones? Human life is unnecessarily complicated," he grumbled, trudging along the slippery, rain-soaked street. The lingering pain in Shen Lu's body only deepened his disdain for mortal frailty.

As he wandered aimlessly, a strange noise caught his attention from the depths of a nearby alley. It was the metallic screech of something being dragged, interspersed with faint, deliberate footsteps. He stopped in his tracks, frowning as he turned toward the sound.

At the end of the alley, faint light spilled out, illuminating a rusted iron sign that read, "XX Textile Factory." The air around the building felt colder, heavier, and entirely different from the rest of the city.

"Interesting…" Lucifer murmured, his steps unconsciously pulling him toward the eerie glow.

--------------

Meanwhile, Chen Jing stood at the entrance of the abandoned factory, expertly setting up her livestreaming equipment. She adjusted the angle of her camera, then flashed a confident smile at the lens.

"Alright, everyone, I've arrived at the infamous XX Textile Factory," she announced, her voice steady despite the chilling air around her. "Rumor has it that workers once died here in a tragic accident, and strange sounds—like the whirring of machines—can still be heard late at night. Tonight, I'll uncover the truth behind the ghost stories!"

The chat exploded with activity:

"Miss.Chen is at it again!"

"This place looks creepy as hell. Be careful, Miss.Chen"

"I heard the ghosts here are vicious. Don't push your luck."

Chen Jing chuckled as she held up a hand-drawn talisman for the camera. "Vicious or not isn't the point," she teased. "The real question is: can you guys show some support with gifts for your fearless streamer risking her life out here?"

With a grin, she stepped through the factory's creaking doors, her camera capturing the corroded textile machines and peeling walls covered in ominous patches of mold. The air reeked of rust and decay, adding a layer of tension to the dimly lit scene.

"This place is a real dump," Chen Jing muttered under her breath as she ventured deeper inside. Just as she rounded a corner, the livestream briefly caught the faint outline of a shadowy figure darting past.

The chat exploded:

"What the hell was that?!"

"Miss.Chen, there was someone behind you!"

"Turn around! Something's there!"

Chen Jing spun around, her heart pounding, but the space behind her was empty save for the sound of dripping water echoing in the air. Frowning, she pulled out her handheld infrared sensor and scanned the area. The screen showed nothing.

"Don't scare me, guys," she said to the chat, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's easy to imagine things in a place like this. A trick of the mind, nothing more."

Her words had barely left her mouth when the sound of faint footsteps emerged from deeper within the factory. Slow, deliberate, and heavy, they reverberated through the abandoned machinery, sending a shiver down her spine. She held her breath instinctively.

"Okay… probably just my imagination again, right?" Chen Jing muttered, nervously adjusting the camera to point toward the source of the sound.

The chat erupted:

"Miss.Chen, it's real this time! Don't go any closer!"

"I'm taking off my headphones. Nope, nope, nope!"

"Could it be a person? Be careful, Miss.Chen"

Clutching the talisman tighter, she steadied her breathing and moved cautiously toward the sound. Despite her banter, she knew the real danger in places like this wasn't ghosts but the possibility of living threats lurking in the shadows.

Yet, as she approached, the footsteps abruptly stopped, replaced by an oppressive silence. The air felt suffocating, and the dim glow from her phone screen reflected eerie shadows that danced unnervingly across the walls.

"Alright, no more games," Chen Jing muttered. She raised the talisman in her hand and shouted, "If something's there, come out now, or don't blame me for taking action!"

Her voice barely echoed before a soaked figure stumbled out from behind a decaying machine, almost colliding with her camera.

"Ah!" Chen Jing yelped, instinctively leaping back. The talisman in her hand nearly flew forward.

The figure froze, blinking at her through a tangle of wet hair. His pale face, disheveled appearance, and exhausted eyes painted a pitiful picture.

The chat lit up again:

"It's a person! Holy crap, that scared me!"

"Miss.Chen found a live one!"

"Is this guy a ghost or a zombie? He looks off!"

Chen Jing regained her composure quickly, her eyes narrowing as she raised another talisman defensively. "Who are you? Wandering around a place like this at night—are you a ghost?"

The man blinked at her, then frowned. His deep, irritated voice answered, "A ghost? You're the ghost! I'm Lucifer, King of Hell!"

Chen Jing froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. "King of Hell? You? Look at you! You couldn't even scare off a lightbulb with that sorry state!"

The man's face darkened. He straightened up, attempting to exude authority as he growled, "Show some respect, mortal, or you'll regret it."

"Regret it?" Chen Jing raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "Alright, King of Hell. Let's see if you can handle this." With that, she slapped the talisman directly onto his forehead.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" he yelped, trying to dodge but failing. The talisman stuck to his forehead with a sharp smack. He howled in pain, stumbling back and landing flat on his rear.

The chat went wild:

"LOL! The 'King of Hell' got smacked by a talisman!"

"What a performance! Is this guy a paid actor?"

"Miss.Chen, you're amazing!"

Chen Jing folded her arms, smirking down at him as she held her phone up for the stream. "King of Hell, huh? Can't even handle a talisman. What's next? Gonna tell me you're here for a photo shoot?"

The man ripped the talisman off his forehead and hurled it to the ground, his face a mix of anger and humiliation. "You… You mortals have no respect!"

"Respect?" Chen Jing snorted. "Earn it first." She crouched in front of him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, what are you? A vengeful spirit? A failed possession gone wrong?"

"I already told you. I'm Lucifer, King of Hell!" he snarled through gritted teeth.

"Sure, sure, King of Hell," she replied with a mock wave. "Why don't you summon some Hellfire to prove it?"

He hesitated, glancing at his palm. A faint flicker of warmth rose in his hand, a tiny spark that quickly fizzled out. His expression turned even darker as he stared at his failure.

Chen Jing barely stifled her laughter. "Wow, Hellfire? More like a sparkler! Should I lend you a lighter?"

His face turned crimson as he growled, "This place's rules suppress my powers! Otherwise, you'd already be on your knees!"

"Uh-huh. I'll believe it when I see it," Chen Jing replied lazily.

Before she could continue mocking him, a low, mechanical rumbling echoed from deep within the factory. The sound was unnervingly rhythmic, like ancient machinery being forced to life. The air grew colder, and even the livestream camera began to tremble faintly.

Chen Jing's playful demeanor vanished as she raised her phone and crept toward the noise. "Wait… that's not normal."

Lucifer's expression turned serious, his brows furrowing. "There's something here. And it's not friendly."

Chen Jing glanced at him, smirking slightly. "So, King of Hell, ready to take the lead?"

He hesitated before stepping back. "This seems like a mortal's problem. You handle it."

Rolling her eyes, Chen Jing slapped another talisman onto her palm and strode toward the sound. After a moment's pause, Lucifer sighed and followed, his face a mix of reluctance and intrigue.

The deeper they ventured, the darker the factory became. The mechanical rumbling grew louder, accompanied by faint, guttural breathing—something ancient and menacing was stirring in the shadows.