The black thread didn't touch my hand. It disappeared about ten centimeters from my palm.
It vanished naturally, rather than cutting off abruptly.
Like a beam of light that had traveled from far away, reached the furthest point visible to the naked eye, and blended into its surroundings.
I stared blankly at the black line ahead. After I took a step forward, I saw it gradually fade until it disappeared completely.
The sound of heavy breathing brought my attention back.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw the young man who had followed me all this way. He clapped a hand over his mouth in alarm and leaned against the wall, his whole body seeming to go limp.
I watched him for a while, then asked, "You heard what I just said, didn't you?"
The young man's eyes widened, his expression even more horrified.
"They came from another world." I pointed to the extinguished fire and the television, now just an empty shell.
The young man was still terrified. His expression told me he wasn't thinking about what I'd said at all.
I looked at the television. There was still a pile of ashes inside the shell.
The Ghost King was a soul, so there was no corpse. I couldn't tell whether the ashes were just some of the television's circuit boards or remnants of the Ghost King's soul.
The black and white were gone from my vision. The whole world was gray.
My head started hurting again.
The pain was so intense that my vision went black.
The world of black, white, and gray disappeared, and everything turned colorful again.
But I had to struggle to make out even those few colors.
I took a few breaths and waited for the pain to pass.
When I tried to step