Horror Game Designer

Chapter 53: The Execution House

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

In the infamous Sishui Apartments, a place with a dark history of harboring murderers, the grim legacy continued to cast its shadow over the years.

Right from the beginning, Situ An had made it clear that he was not there to coexist with the other residents. He had instructed his men to meticulously label the doors of the neighboring apartments. They used specific markings to indicate which rooms were haunted by ghosts, which ones were booby-trapped, and which were empty and abandoned. Situ An was intimately familiar with these details as if they were etched into his very memory.

As the doors were forcibly opened one by one, bloodshed became rampant. The prolonged nature of the carnage had a profound effect on the investigators who had resorted to consuming meat. Over time, they began to lose their grip on their identity. The appearance of black characters on their skin was a telling sign – the more characters that appeared, the more their eyes flickered between moments of clarity and utter confusion.

Watching this unfold, Situ An thought to himself, “The seeds that were planted twenty years ago are now ready to be harvested.” He observed the investigators, who were teetering on the edge of losing their humanity without a shred of empathy. Everything was happening just as he had meticulously planned.

He knew that “flesh” was not an “antidote” but a “poison.” Its effects were just slower on those with stronger willpower. Interestingly, each investigator who had survived a level-three paranormal event showed remarkable resilience and determination. These were the bravest individuals in the city, navigating its darkest and most sinister corners.

Holding a heavy cleaver in his hand, Situ An reminisced about a ghastly family massacre that had occurred two decades earlier in Building A of the Sishui Apartments. In that incident, a murderer clad in a bright red coat had brutally slaughtered eight family members before taking his own life. Twenty years had passed since then, and with the recent paranormal happenings, that murderer had turned into a frenzied, cannibalistic ghost, now haunting the building.

The increase in the number of black characters was directly proportional to the intensification of the curse, causing the flesh-eating investigators to spiral further into instability. However, these characters also seemed to enhance their powers.

Situ An had been deliberately sacrificing the building’s residents to these investigators, sharpening his metaphorical “knife” for what he anticipated to be a final showdown.

He eventually led all the investigators to the first floor, arriving at Granny’s apartment. He knocked on her door politely, “I’ve come to keep my promise.”

When the door opened just a crack, Granny caught sight of the flesh-eating investigators and sighed, “You truly are a madman.”

Tossing out three blood talismans, Granny quickly shut and locked her door, the sound echoing ominously through the hallway.

Picking up the blood talismans, Situ An stared intently at Granny’s door. “Every innocent soul that is tormented and taken by evil spirits can be turned into these blood talismans. I’ve given you so many human skins, and yet you’ve only managed to create three?” he questioned, his tone a mix of disbelief and frustration.

There was a tense silence from within the house, prompting Situ An to decide not to wait any longer. He swiftly gathered the trio of blood talismans and, flanked by his team, proceeded down the hallway, halting momentarily at the top of the staircase that descended into the basement.

Unlike the entrance to the basement in Building A, the doorway leading to Building B’s basement was fortified with a heavy, black iron door, which was extensively adorned with a variety of protective charms.

Always cautious and observant, Gao Ming asked, “Do you think Granny has imprisoned the evil ghost in the basement?” He was highly suspicious of Situ An’s intentions, suspecting that his true goal was not to rid the building of the evil spirit for the sake of the residents, but rather to capture the potent artifact known as the Heart of Mortality. Gao Ming was deeply concerned, knowing that if Situ An succeeded in his quest, combining his already formidable intelligence and influence with the power of the evil spirit, it would leave him at a grave disadvantage.

Feeling trapped with no possibility of escape, Gao Ming’s sole eye blazed with an intense, almost crazed determination.

As they began to remove the protective charms from the door, a bone-chilling wind swept through the area, accompanied by eerie, sinister laughter emanating from the depths of the basement.

With concerted effort, they forced the iron door open, sending fragments of the charms swirling through the air. This time, Situ An chose to let other members of the investigation team take the lead.

Blinded by their misguided loyalty and confidence in Situ An, the investigators, fully armed and on high alert, began to tread down the basement’s long, dimly lit corridor.

In stark contrast to Building A’s basement, which was filled with various eateries, the basement of Building B had a more foreboding atmosphere, resembling a row of prison cells, showing scarce evidence of human occupancy.

Situ An solemnly recited the names of the victims — “Hu Ming, Hu Ling, Hu Little Gongao, Yuan Chen…” With each name spoken, the sinister laughter echoing through the corridor seemed to intensify as if fueling the malevolent spirit’s excitement. “These were innocent people,” Situ An declared, “found in pools of their own blood, their eyes wide with disbelief, unable to grasp why they were so brutally killed. They never realized that their murderer, perhaps envious of their happiness and achievements, had callously taken their lives.”

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream shattered the tense silence. The leading investigator was abruptly yanked into one of the rooms by a pair of gore-stained hands. His comrades rushed to his aid, but he was nowhere to be found when they finally forced the door open.

“Where did he go?”

Inside the cluttered rental room, mounds of garbage were piled haphazardly. Mountains of empty mineral water bottles, some still containing a murky yellow-brown liquid, lay strewn about. The floor was littered with food wrappers, instant noodle cups, and remnants of takeout meals.

A television set in the corner of the room was still on, playing a crude and embarrassing video, its vulgar sounds mixing unpleasantly with the room’s already foul odor.

One of the investigators located the TV remote buried under a dirty sock and attempted to turn off the set. However, as soon as he pressed the button, the ceiling fan above them suddenly broke free of its moorings and came crashing down.

The investigator, his flesh lacerated and his body marred with spreading black script, would surely have perished if he hadn’t ingested the strange meat earlier.

“Exercise extreme caution,” Qing Ge warned, his face etched with seriousness. “We’re now within the cannibal ghost’s territory. Everything here poses a threat. Those of you who haven’t eaten the meat, pair up and remain behind. Avoid entering any of the rooms.”

Just as Qing Ge finished his warning, a loud “Boom!” echoed through the space as the iron door leading to the basement slammed shut, effectively sealing them off from any escape route.

“Stay calm,” Situ An calmly advised, surrounded by his team. He meticulously cleaned his bone-chopping knife with a crimson talisman. “This place is a gruesome sanctuary that the cannibal ghost has fashioned for itself, but it’s also the grave we’ve come to lay it in,” he continued. “Be aware that this ghost employs a myriad of lethal methods, all designed to instill despair and terror. To outlive its clutches, never give in to fear or beg for mercy regardless of the torture you endure. Maintain hope, and the ghost might delay your end, giving your allies an opportunity to save you.”

Suddenly, an investigator from the Northern Branch shouted, “Chief! We’ve discovered a hidden door!” He had moved a bed aside, revealing a door concealed beneath a heap of repugnant, filthy clothing.

All attention turned towards the newfound hidden door, but both Gao Ming and Situ An felt something was off.

Since the disappearance of the first investigator, the smell of blood had grown stronger. Gao Ming, ever vigilant, scrutinized the expressions of each team member, spotting one whose face was unusually rigid and emotionless.

Meanwhile, Situ An, who had carefully memorized the faces and positions of his team, realized after a quick count that there was now an extra person among them despite losing one member earlier.

“Someone’s been replaced!” he exclaimed.

Without warning, blood-soaked hands lunged out. Situ An and Gao Ming, almost as if they had anticipated this, responded instantly — Situ An with a swift blade strike and Gao Ming with a nimble dodge.

Despite their quick reactions, both were unexpectedly ensnared by the bloody appendages!

The sly cannibal ghost, lurking unseen, had specifically targeted Situ An and Gao Ming, recognizing them as the most formidable threats.

Chaos erupted as the doors, resembling those of prison cells, flung open automatically. A powerful, unseen force dragged Situ An and Gao Ming through secret doors into separate rooms.

They each tumbled down a steep, debris-strewn passage, ending up isolated in different chambers.

Bleeding from numerous minor cuts, Gao Ming swiftly got to his feet, poised for confrontation.

“Is this the ghost’s gruesome workshop?” he wondered aloud.

Using his cellphone for illumination in the dark, ominous space, Gao Ming’s gaze fell upon an array of sinister torture devices. He then noticed the earlier missing investigator bound to a chair, weeping and pleading for help.

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