Night descended.
"Yes, Mother, I'm doing well. It's alright if you can't return for Christmas. Yes, I'll take care of myself."
Edith, now fully inhabiting the role of Lindsay, concluded the call. While the narrative had yet to unfold, she remained vigilant. Her inherent sensitivity to the supernatural, a hallmark of her mediumistic abilities, alerted her to an unsettling aura emanating from the neighboring house. A palpable sense of foreboding permeated the air. She trusted her instincts; if genuine danger loomed, she would not be oblivious.
Turning to her computer, she meticulously reviewed Lindsay's QQ chat logs and Weibo posts, immersing herself in the nuances of her character's digital footprint. The logs revealed Lindsay's closest friends: Tang Yin Cheng, Song Jun, and Fang Xiyu. Sporadic exchanges with other classmates hinted at the potential presence of novice actors among them.
Identifying the novices remained a priority. Their stilted dialogue often betrayed their inexperience. The film's opening scene, set immediately after school, offered limited interaction with classmates, but she suspected their presence nonetheless. During the upcoming unscripted period, she needed to ascertain their identities, offer guidance, and ensure their protection against unintentional NGs. The script, while outlining interactions with various characters, offered no indication of whether these characters were portrayed by actors. Some novices might not share scenes with the protagonist initially, lacking her contact information and rendering communication difficult during the weekend. The bustling crowd at dismissal further complicated the task of identifying them.
Changing her QQ nickname to "Lindsay," she anticipated contact. Among Lindsay's twenty-plus online friends, classmates, and potentially, novice actors, lurked.
A notification flashed; Tang Yin Cheng's avatar blinked on the screen. Carol, embodying Yin Cheng, was improvising, a deviation from the script.
Glancing once more at the neighboring house, Edith clicked on Yin Cheng's avatar.
"Lindsay, am I disturbing you?" Carol's message appeared.
"Not at all. I finished the practice exams and I'm browsing online. Staring at textbooks all day is rather taxing," Edith replied, maintaining the facade.
"Oh, well, technically, I shouldn't be on the computer now, but my parents are out. I'm seizing a moment of respite."
Edith continued the charade. "Yes, with the university entrance exams looming, we must redouble our efforts. I'll be returning to my studies shortly."
"Alright, Lindsay."
After a few more minutes of pleasantries, other chat requests materialized. Edith addressed them one by one.
"Lindsay, you're online at this hour?"
"Lindsay, why did you change your nickname to your real name?"
"Hello, Lindsay. I watched a terrifying horror film today; I'm still quite shaken."
This last message, laden with subtext, resonated with an unsettling significance.
Edith swiftly responded to the message. "Horror films are fiction. There's nothing to be afraid of."
"But are they all entirely fictional? What if ghosts truly exist?" came the reply.
The sender, identified as Zhang Yun in the chat logs, was highly likely a novice actor.
"Don't worry," Edith reassured him, adding a comforting emoticon. Encouraging the newcomers was crucial.
After brief exchanges with Tang Yin Cheng and Zhang Yun, she closed her laptop. Maintaining the persona of a high school student precluded excessive screen time.
Edith understood Carol's underlying motive: to ascertain her safety and glean any insights from her mediumistic senses. A subtle shift in emoticon usage would have signaled impending danger.
Like Edith, Carol prioritized intelligence gathering, demonstrating a natural aptitude for the craft of acting. His past performances, imbued with such realism, had inadvertently captivated Elsie, leading to an unwelcome infatuation. Carol, harboring no reciprocal feelings, found the situation vexing. His portrayal of Tang Yin Cheng's affections for Lindsay was equally compelling, his every glance and gesture conveying a heartfelt sincerity.
Edith initiated conversations with Fang Xiyu and Song Jun, arranging a meeting. Having gathered sufficient intelligence and familiarized herself with Lindsay's meticulously organized home, she concluded her online activities. She found a surprising kinship with Lindsay's personality, easing the demands of the role.
In bed, she perused a textbook of classical Chinese literature, immersing herself in the required verses, momentarily oblivious to the enigmatic presence next door. Her mediumistic abilities served as a sentinel against unseen threats. Thus far, her actions and dialogue adhered flawlessly to the script, ensuring a period of relative safety.
This was the opportune moment for intelligence gathering, a precious resource not to be squandered.
As drowsiness crept in, she placed the book on her nightstand and extinguished the lamp. The ability to slumber peacefully, despite the unsettling proximity of a potential spectral entity, spoke volumes about her fortitude. Her mediumistic senses would awaken her instantly at the first hint of danger. Even without a cursed object, her innate abilities provided a formidable defense.
The night passed without incident.
Edith awoke early, rising without delay. After attending to her morning ablutions, she prepared breakfast.
Her first scripted task was to greet the new neighbors.
Adjusting her hair before the mirror, she assessed her appearance, satisfied with her composed demeanor. Maintaining a calm and rational mindset was paramount in these films. Fear could cloud judgment and compromise survival. The trials of previous films had tempered her resolve, honing her psychological resilience. While perhaps not as imperturbable as Julian, she possessed unwavering confidence in her ability to resist panic and maintain clarity.
Dressed and with her backpack slung over her shoulder, she emerged from her house, her gaze fixed on the neighboring dwelling. Her countenance, devoid of apprehension, radiated an air of casual nonchalance as she approached.
Reaching the front door, she pressed the doorbell, the script's instructions echoing in her mind. Her expression remained serene.
No response.
"Are they out?" she wondered, pressing the doorbell again. Still, silence.
"It seems no one's home," she murmured. "I'll return later."
Turning away, she contemplated her next move. Overt inquiries about the new neighbor would be inconsistent with Lindsay's character, inviting an NG. Any investigation would require a plausible pretext.
The news of the missing girl, mentioned by Tang Yin Cheng, weighed heavily on her mind. She needed to delve into the details. A cursory online search the previous day revealed a minor news item, seemingly overlooked by the public.
Arriving at school, she immediately spotted Eamonn conversing with Carol and Wu Zhaotian in a corner of the classroom.
Wu Zhaotian, portraying Song Jun, lacked a cursed object, his meager savings insufficient to rent one. As a seasoned actor, he wasn't eligible for Julian's discounted rates, a potential source of discontent among the cast. His survival strategy, therefore, hinged upon staying close to those with greater protection. Job, naturally, embodied Fang Xiyu.
Eamonn, like Wu Zhaotian, faced financial constraints. Fortunately, his earnings from a previous film allowed him to purchase a Soul Calling Charm from Martin, affording a modicum of self-preservation. Job, while not as well-equipped as Edith, possessed her own survival mechanisms.
The thirteenth-floor cinema faced a dire shortage of cursed objects. Edith harbored a fervent hope of acquiring one, even if not for her personal use. Their discovery was imperative.
"Lindsay!" Carol greeted her warmly, approaching with a smile.
"Good morning, Yin Cheng," Edith replied, her own smile masking her inner turmoil.
The morning, however, held little promise. The sky remained shrouded in a gloomy overcast, the sun's warmth obscured by an oppressive pall.
The true narrative of the horror film was about to commence.