Chapter 28: The Trap (Part One)

When Qi Yan and Li Ruoke came downstairs with the dog, Yang Han was crouched on the floor, grimacing and groaning. Du Zhou, the drunkard, had finally been roused by the commotion. Although he was still a little dazed, the sight of Yang Han tumbling down the stairs as if possessed had sobered him up considerably.

Now the two were propping each other up, sitting together as Yang Han slurred out an explanation of what had just happened.

“So you’ve finally decided to wake up? My god… just how dead were you to the world?” Li Ruoke exclaimed in amazement. After all the ruckus they’d made, she couldn’t believe he was only now waking up.

When Du Zhou heard about Wang Yudong’s death, he was as terrified as the rest, perhaps even more so. Especially when he learned that not only had Wang Yudong died under strange circumstances, but had also been skinned and tortured by a ghost—the news nearly took his breath away. He looked as if he might faint again, and his swim trunks were once again damp, a pungent steam of urine rising from his crotch.

“So what are you all waiting for? Run!” he shouted.

Yang Han, clutching his leg, cursed, “If we could run, would we still be standing here talking to you? The phones are dead, the power is out, and even our car’s been drained of gas!” He didn’t bother explaining further to Du Zhou, whose reactions were always a step behind. Instead, he turned to Qi Yan and the others. “Where’s Shi Xiaoxue? And… where exactly is Xiaoyue?”

“You still have the nerve to worry about others?” Qi Yan glanced back at the pitch-black hallway. “When all that chaos broke out on the second floor, Shi Xiaoxue disappeared—she should still be upstairs.”

They all shouted up the stairwell, but no one answered.

Li Ruoke handed Shirley the dog to Qi Yan and offered, “I’ll go get her down.” Qi Yan caught her arm. “Are you crazy?”

Li Ruoke knew perfectly well how dangerous the situation was, but she insisted, “I know this isn’t the time to play hero. But if we all just look out for ourselves and let that ghost pick us off one by one, who’s to say anyone will get out alive?”

She was surprisingly strong, and Qi Yan found himself unable to dissuade her. Yet, among them, the two of them were the only real friends. If this girl could be so brave, how could he let her go up alone? He’d seen with his own eyes the ghost with the human face just upstairs.

Qi Yan bit his lip and said, “Fine, I’ll go get her. You all wait here.”

Li Ruoke was just as anxious about him going. “Why are we arguing about this? Didn’t you say it was dangerous up there?”

Qi Yan let out an involuntary, bitter laugh. With things in such chaos, that ruthless determination surged up in him again. “And what good will it do if you go? Can you catch a ghost? At least I can…”

He’d only managed half his sentence when the sound of light footsteps came from the wooden staircase—someone was coming down.

Instinctively, everyone shrank back, uncertain what might be descending from above… though the footsteps certainly sounded human.

Qi Yan pointed his phone’s flashlight at the stairwell, everyone’s gaze fixed on the spot, holding their breath.

Yang Han grabbed an empty bottle for a weapon, Li Ruoke tensed, ready to spring into action. Du Zhou, though still dazed, could see how dire the situation was and instinctively hid behind the sofa.

Thud, thud, thud—the footsteps drew nearer, more distinct.

In the beam of the phone’s light appeared a pair of pale, delicate feet, followed by two alluring legs.

The person coming down was… Cheng Ziyue, missing for so long?

Yang Han, recognizing her, was about to rush forward when he froze. Something was clearly wrong with Cheng Ziyue—she was far too calm, descending the stairs with slow, graceful steps, a faint smile on her lips.

The more normal she seemed, the more abnormal it felt.

As she came down several steps, they could see she was gripping something in her hand, something large and wet—like a piece of cloth, but those with sharp eyes quickly realized what it was: she was dragging a human skin!

Not Wang Yudong’s, but a girl’s, for there was a tangle of long hair still attached to the scalp, though now it was a wild, disheveled mess.

Fresh skin, blood still clinging to it, trailing a stench of iron.

Shi Xiaoxue? Was she… already…?

Yang Han’s jaw dropped open, his chin quivering. “Xiaoyue… you… did you kill them?!”

Qi Yan yanked him further back, saying, “It’s not her—your girlfriend is possessed… the ghost is in her.”

“How do you know?” Li Ruoke demanded.

Taking advantage of the fact that Cheng Ziyue hadn’t completely descended yet, Qi Yan shifted his phone’s light to her stomach.

Aside from her underwear, she wore nothing. And on her abdomen… a human face pressed against her skin—no need to look closely, it was clearly the same ghostly face they’d seen before.

Yet, except for Qi Yan, no one else saw anything but Cheng Ziyue descending the stairs like a zombie, unable to see the face upon her belly.

Possession or being taken over by a ghost sounded absurd, but the fact remained—Cheng Ziyue was holding a freshly flayed human skin.

Yang Han, clutching Qi Yan’s arm in terror, stammered, “So… what do we do now?”

Qi Yan shot him a glare, but even he could no longer keep his composure. He took a deep breath and screamed, his voice breaking, “What else? Run!”

The moment he shouted, Li Ruoke, Du Zhou, and Yang Han all shrieked and bolted for the front door.

Bang! With a thunderous crash, the villa’s double doors slammed shut, and in that instant, all the windows sealed themselves as well.

Screams erupted—a cacophony, though Du Zhou’s was the loudest. All four of them crowded around the door, pounding and ramming it, but it didn’t budge—as if a thick wall had replaced it.

“Is it changing its plan because I saw it? Is it going to take us all on at once instead of picking us off one by one?” Qi Yan stared, stunned, at “Cheng Ziyue” descending the final step. The ghostly face on her abdomen was smiling even more broadly now, those blood-red lips curling upward, hollow black eyes brimming with sinister malice.

“Get out of my way!” Li Ruoke shouted, thrusting the dog into Qi Yan’s arms. She took a few steps back, sprinted, and leaped, delivering a flying kick straight at the door’s seam.

She was strong, and the move looked impressive, but the door didn’t budge. Instead, she doubled over in pain, groaning.

Earlier, Du Zhou had already wet himself in fright; now he burst into tears, snot flying, sobbing out, “Yang Han, your front door is way too sturdy!”

Qi Yan wasn’t idle either—he grabbed a stool and hurled it at the window, but as soon as it struck, it shattered apart, not leaving a single crack on the glass. “Bulletproof glass?!”