This Wasn't His Sofa

Dear player, from the moment you read the first word of this story, you were already part of this game.

Whether you died or survived was entirely up to you.

"Drip, drip."

Woken by the sound of water, Shao Lan opened his eyes.

He sat up groggily, then suddenly froze.

The sofa beneath him was old and filthy, its leather covered in dark brown stains that gave off an indescribable stench.

-This wasn't his sofa.

Slowly turning his head, he surveyed the living room.

-This wasn't his living room, either.

He was in a clearly aging house. White plaster flaked off the walls, which bore the same filthy dark brown stains.

Shao Lan leaned closer to inspect them.

As someone who frequently dealt with corpses, he recognized them.

The stains were dried blood and corpse fat...

Opposite the sofa stood a small memorial altar.

Symmetrical arrangements of white and yellow chrysanthemums flanked an incense burner, with cakes and fruit laid out as offerings.

But where the memorial portrait should have been, there was an oval fish tank.

In the faint light, he could make out four little red goldfish swimming inside.

It seemed to be raining outside. Rain pattered steadily, and the streaked window reflected Shao Lan's pale face.

He was a registration clerk at the front desk of a funeral home.

After finishing his shift in the early hours yesterday, he had suddenly developed a fever. He had taken some medicine and fallen into a groggy sleep on the sofa in his rented apartment.

Then he had woken up here.

What was this place?

With so many traces of murder in this room, had a killer kidnapped him?

Suddenly, a click broke the silence.

Shao Lan whipped his head around.

In the corner, a wooden owl popped out of a mantel clock.

With old-fashioned clocks like this, the owl would emerge every hour to announce the time.

It was now four in the morning. The owl popped out, but instead of announcing the hour, it said...

"Game start! Game start!"

Game?

Shao Lan was momentarily stunned.

After repeating those two words, the owl retracted on its spring.

At the same time, a click came from the security door nearby.

Had someone come in?

In a flash, Shao Lan rolled off the sofa and slipped into the gap beneath it.

The sofa stood just high enough to accommodate him, but he had to lie completely flat, his face pressed tightly against the floor.

Uneven grooves scored the floor. Shao Lan reached out and tried to identify them by touch.

"Rules."

The word had been carved crookedly into the floor with a small knife. The grooves were reddish and gave off a sweet, metallic smell, as though stained with blood.

Shao Lan felt around beside it, but there were no other words.

Footsteps approached, and he hurriedly pulled his hand back.

Holding his breath, he peered through the gap beneath the sofa...

He saw a pair of old-fashioned red embroidered shoes stop in front of him.

Their soles were vivid red, and the exposed feet were deathly pale with a bluish tinge.

Shao Lan's hair stood on end.

Fortunately, the red embroidered shoes didn't linger in front of him. A few seconds later, their owner turned and headed farther inside.

The kitchen light came on. Pots and pans clattered, followed by a bang as the refrigerator door opened.

The strange odor in the air immediately grew stronger. Shao Lan sniffed, but the congestion from his fever dulled his sense of smell.

He poked his head slightly out from beneath the sofa and cautiously looked toward the kitchen.

Through the gaps between table legs and assorted clutter, he could just see one corner of the refrigerator.

The freezer compartment, coated in white frost, was packed full of meat.

Wait...

Shao Lan blinked hard.

He hadn't been mistaken.

Among the frozen meat sat a blackened human head, encrusted with frost.

A second later, the refrigerator door closed.

The kitchen door closed as well, and heavy chopping sounds began inside.

In the living room, where only the rain could be heard, Shao Lan listened to his own rapid breathing.

Clearly, this was a serial killer's home.

He had been brought here in his sleep without knowing a thing, yet strangely, the killer seemed unaware of his presence.

That was good. It meant he could get out right away.

Shao Lan scrambled out from under the sofa, took off his shoes and carried them, then ran in his socks toward the security door on his left.

At that very moment, however, a bedroom door suddenly opened.

A dark figure darted out and collided squarely with Shao Lan.

"Ah! Sorry, sorry!"

The figure stopped and steadied Shao Lan in a fluster.

He was a tall, burly young man in a white athletic tank top, with broad shoulders and clearly defined arm muscles. At first glance, he looked like a tough guy.

But his bedhead resembled a bird's nest, and his eyes kept blinking. Even in the darkness, he radiated an air of innocent stupidity.

He was now stumbling over his words as he apologized over and over.

"Man, I'm sorry. I had a few drinks at dinner with my team. I must've come to the wrong place. I'm not a bad guy. Here's my student ID..."

The young man held up a campus card bearing the words "Jiang Mingran, School of Competitive Sports, XX Sports University."

Jiang Mingran was still explaining himself, red-faced and anxious, but Shao Lan's expression had already changed.

He realized the chopping in the kitchen behind him had stopped at some point.

"Get inside!"

Shao Lan grabbed Jiang Mingran and hauled him into the bedroom, locking the door behind them.

The moment he saw the bedroom's furnishings, Shao Lan's eyes trembled.

There was another memorial altar and owl clock here, identical to those in the living room. Four little red goldfish likewise swam slowly in the fish tank.

"Call the police," Shao Lan said urgently.

"The-the police?" Jiang Mingran looked utterly bewildered.

"There's a body in the kitchen fridge," Shao Lan said succinctly.

Jiang Mingran's eyes widened. He searched Shao Lan's face, and once he confirmed the other man was absolutely not joking, his expression changed instantly.

He hurriedly searched his pockets, but unfortunately, just like Shao Lan, his phone was missing.

His expression grim, Shao Lan hid behind the door and gestured for Jiang Mingran to stay silent.

Footsteps drew closer, soles tapping softly against the floor.

Copying Shao Lan, Jiang Mingran lay on the floor and looked out through the gap beneath the door-

A pair of old-fashioned red embroidered shoes stood just outside.

Jiang Mingran's heart leaped into his throat. He didn't dare make a sound.

The owner of the embroidered shoes made no sound either, simply standing quietly outside the door.

Through the gap, they saw the red embroidered shoes suddenly take a step back.

Shao Lan was the first to realize what the person outside intended. He instantly moved aside, pressed himself against the wall, and reached out to pull Jiang Mingran away.

But it was already too late.

Before Jiang Mingran could get up, an eye abruptly appeared in the gap in front of him.

The woman had lain down outside. Through the gap beneath the door, her eye met Jiang Mingran's.

Goosebumps erupted all over Jiang Mingran.

The eye was huge, its hollow socket filled almost entirely with white. Where the black iris should have been, only a tiny pale gray dot remained, surrounded by a dense web of blood vessels.

Jiang Mingran tried to spring up, but Shao Lan held him down.

Shao Lan gestured to Jiang Mingran-don't move.

That half minute felt endless. Jiang Mingran didn't dare breathe, make a sound, or even blink.

Half a minute later, the eye disappeared from beneath the door.

Shao Lan let out a long breath and silently mouthed a few words to Jiang Mingran.

Jiang Mingran understood. Shao Lan had said, "She can't see."

The cornea in that eye had completely degenerated. It couldn't see anything.

Her movement had merely been a test. Had Jiang Mingran made even the slightest sound out of fear, he would have been dead.

The red embroidered shoes reappeared beneath the door as the woman stood up.

She seemed to be debating whether to push the door open or return to the kitchen.

Just then.

"Creeeak-"

The door to the neighboring bedroom suddenly opened.

There was actually a fourth person in this house!

A pair of cloth shoes came into Shao Lan and Jiang Mingran's view.

The fourth person seemed to be an old man.

The old man appeared to have trouble walking. He dragged one leg, his steps shaky.

Shao Lan and Jiang Mingran watched helplessly as the old man walked up to the red embroidered shoes.

"What is this place..." the old man asked, his voice frightened and bewildered. "Who are you..."

His hoarse voice cut off abruptly.

Before Shao Lan or Jiang Mingran could react, a sharp crack of breaking bone rang out, and the old man collapsed heavily onto the floor.

His neck had been twisted to an unnatural angle, his face turned toward the gap beneath the door.

His aged features were contorted, his eyes stretched wide.

As though he had seen something unimaginably terrifying.

Instinctively, Jiang Mingran tried to open the door and rush over.

Shao Lan grabbed him.

In the darkness, Jiang Mingran felt that Shao Lan's hand was as cold as ice.

"It's too late." Shao Lan shook his head and gestured.

"He's dead."