Zhang Peng burst from the workers' passageway with the speed and desperation of a bullet fired from a gun, though he was just as directionless, his vision clouded by panic and the oppressive darkness of the Haunted House. The labyrinthine layout of the building, with its twisting corridors and disorienting turns, was made even more treacherous by the near-total absence of light, casting every corner into shadow. After several frantic minutes of running, a cold realization gripped him: he was hopelessly lost, trapped in a maze that seemed designed to swallow him whole.
"Why've you stopped? No need to be scared—I'm not here to hurt you. I just need you for a little… experiment." Chen Ge's voice, calm yet laced with menace, echoed through the darkness. He trailed behind Zhang Peng, his hands gripping the heavy iron hammer tightly, its weight a promise of control. With deliberate slowness, he herded his prey deeper into the Haunted House, guiding him toward a dead-end corridor where escape would be impossible.
"Hurt me? You call this not hurting me?" Zhang Peng's voice cracked with a mix of fear and indignation. "The second we crossed paths, you smashed my arm! You call that harmless‽" His only weapon had been wrenched from his grasp, leaving him defenseless. His left arm throbbed, blood seeping from the wound, while his right arm hung uselessly at his side, limp as a wet rag, the pain radiating through his shoulder. Overwhelmed by his predicament, a fleeting, absurd thought crossed his mind—to call the police, as if they could save him from this nightmare.
"Take my advice: stop fighting and do what I say. Keep resisting, and you'll be rolling out of here in a wheelchair—permanently." Chen Ge's words were cold, his steps measured as he closed the distance between them. He felt no sympathy for Zhang Peng; after all, the man had come here with murder in his heart. If Chen Ge hadn't uncovered his intentions in time, it would be his own body lying lifeless on the floor.
"Boss, does that sound like something a victim would say? I'm cursed, I swear!" Zhang Peng's voice trembled as he stumbled forward, his body defenseless and his mind racing. With no weapon and no strength left, he bolted down the nearest open path, his legs pumping despite the pain, driven by pure survival instinct.
"Those legs of yours sure know how to move…" Chen Ge muttered, his tone almost amused as he pursued his quarry. But moments later, a chilling sound cut through the air—a grating, sawing noise that sent a shiver down his spine. From the shadows of the workers' passageway, a dark figure darted out, moving with unnatural speed. The mirror monster, Chen Ge realized, had been biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It had sensed the chaos and saw its chance to act.
Zhang Peng, blind with panic, careened through the first floor, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridors. As he rounded a corner, his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of a figure—a man, beckoning him from the shadows. Too terrified to think clearly, and with Chen Ge's relentless pursuit at his heels, Zhang Peng didn't hesitate. He veered toward the figure, mistaking it for salvation.
Chen Ge, trailing close behind, caught sight of the figure as well, and a wave of dread washed over him. The silhouette was eerily familiar, its build matching He Feng's—the mirror monster! "I'm trying to keep you alive, you idiot, but you're running straight to your death! That's a real ghost!" Chen Ge's shout was desperate, but Zhang Peng was too far gone, his fear drowning out the warning. Guided by the shadowy figure, he stumbled into the first-floor bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him.
The bathroom's mirrors gleamed in pristine condition, their polished surfaces reflecting the dim light like predatory eyes. The monster had lured Zhang Peng here for a reason—it was ready to make its move. Chen Ge's heart pounded as he reached the bathroom door, his fingers fumbling with the doorknob. To his horror, it was locked, the mechanism refusing to budge.
The situation had spiraled out of Chen Ge's control. The sudden appearance of the black shadow had derailed his carefully laid plans, snatching Zhang Peng from his grasp before he could apprehend him. Seconds later, a blood-curdling scream erupted from behind the bathroom door, followed by the chaotic clatter of objects falling and crashing. Whatever Zhang Peng had encountered inside was beyond comprehension, something so terrifying it had broken through his already frayed nerves.
"What the hell is happening in there?" Chen Ge's voice was tight with anxiety as he raised the hammer, slamming it against the doorknob with all his strength. The metal gave way, clattering to the floor, but the door still wouldn't open. Someone—or something—had barricaded it from the inside, likely with a heavy cupboard shoved against it. Trapped outside, unable to see what horrors were unfolding within, Chen Ge's frustration boiled over. He swung the hammer again and again, each strike against the wooden door reverberating through the empty corridors, the sound a desperate plea to reclaim control of a night that had descended into chaos.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The door shuddered under the blows, but whatever lay beyond it was far from finished with Zhang Peng.
The cacophony of splintering wood and crashing furniture reverberated far beyond the confines of the Haunted House, spilling into the night air like a distress signal. Chen Ge, his muscles burning from exertion, had poured every ounce of his dwindling strength into battering the hollow wooden door. At last, the door began to give way, its flimsy frame cracking under the relentless assault of his hammer. Behind it, the heavy cupboard that had been used to barricade the entrance shifted slightly, creating a narrow gap no wider than half a palm. It was a small victory, but enough for Chen Ge to peer into the dimly lit bathroom and confront the nightmare unfolding within.
Through the sliver of an opening, Chen Ge's eyes locked onto a chilling scene. The black cloth that had once shrouded the bathroom mirror lay crumpled on the tiled floor, exposing the glass's gleaming surface. Zhang Peng stood before it, his gaze vacant, his eyes glassy and unfocused, as if his mind had been severed from his body. But what sent a jolt of terror through Chen Ge was the towering black shadow looming between Zhang Peng and the mirror—a formless, malevolent presence that pulsed with an otherworldly energy. The shadow was shifting, its edges blurring and reshaping until it began to take on an eerie resemblance to Zhang Peng himself, a grotesque mimicry of his form.
As Chen Ge watched, frozen in horror, the shadow took a deliberate step backward, allowing half of its amorphous body to melt into the mirror's surface, as if the glass were a portal to another realm. Then, in a moment that defied all reason, Zhang Peng, still dazed and unresponsive, shuffled forward. He pressed his face against the mirror, his skin making contact with the cold glass. Slowly, impossibly, his body began to merge with the shadow, their forms intertwining in a grotesque dance. For four agonizing seconds, the fusion continued, until a sudden, sinister grin spread across Zhang Peng's previously blank face—a smile that was not his own, twisted and unnatural.
Zhang Peng turned, his movements deliberate, and locked eyes with Chen Ge through the narrow gap between the door and the cupboard. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, as if something else entirely was staring out from behind his eyes. With a slow, deliberate motion, he swiped a finger across the fresh blood oozing from his wounded arm and began to write on the mirror's surface. The crimson streaks formed words, though Chen Ge couldn't make them out from his vantage point. Before he could process the scene further, Zhang Peng's body shuddered violently, as if a spark of awareness had returned to him. In a sudden burst of movement, he spun toward the bathroom window, flung it open, and leapt out, vanishing into the night beyond the Haunted House.
Chen Ge's mind raced. Has the mirror monster taken refuge in Zhang Peng's body? And why does it harbor such venomous hatred toward me? He recalled the monster's previous attacks on He San and He Feng, both thwarted by external interruptions—interruptions he had caused. It was no wonder the creature held a grudge against him, the owner of the Haunted House who had repeatedly foiled its plans. The realization settled like a stone in his chest: this was no longer just about Zhang Peng. The mirror monster was a far greater threat, and it was still out there.
The bathroom door remained stubbornly barricaded, the cupboard holding firm despite Chen Ge's efforts. With no time to waste, he abandoned the door and sprinted toward the Haunted House's main entrance, determined to pursue Zhang Peng. But before he could reach the front gate, a familiar voice cut through the chaos. "Chen Ge! Hold on! We're coming for you!" Inspector Lee's shout was followed by a deafening crash as the Haunted House's gate was wrenched off its hinges. A flood of police officers poured into the building, their flashlights slicing through the darkness like blades.
Chen Ge's instincts kicked in. He tossed the iron hammer into a shadowed corner, stripped off his blood-streaked outfit, and removed his mask, shedding the guise of the pursuer. By the time Inspector Lee and his team reached him, he was standing alone in the corridor, his chest heaving as if he'd just survived a brush with death. The inspector, his face etched with concern, was the first to reach him. "Xiao Chen, are you hurt?" he asked, his voice heavy with worry.
Playing the part of the shaken victim, Chen Ge staggered back, leaning heavily against the wall for support. He pressed a hand to his chest, his voice trembling just enough to sell the act. "I'm… I'm okay. Just shaken up, not hurt. But you need to go after Zhang Peng! I saw him escape through the bathroom window on the first floor!" His words were genuine, though he kept the truth about the mirror monster locked away for now.
"Leave it to us," Inspector Lee said, his tone resolute. "Thank you for your help tonight, Chen. You've done more than enough."
"It's nothing," Chen Ge replied, forcing a weak smile. "Helping law enforcement is an honor. A little danger is a small price to pay for justice."
Inspector Lee's expression softened, but his admiration was tempered by concern. "Still, you can't keep throwing yourself into situations like this. Tonight could've ended badly!" He clapped Chen Ge on the shoulder, then barked orders to his officers to pursue Zhang Peng. While most of the team fanned out to search the premises, Inspector Lee stayed behind with Chen Ge to inspect the crime scene.
The inspector led the way to the staff breakroom, where the beam of his flashlight fell upon a bloodstained bed. His eyes widened, and he turned to Chen Ge with renewed alarm. "You're injured? Show me where!"
Chen Ge waved a hand dismissively. "That's not mine," he said, though he struggled to find a convincing explanation. "It was dark. The suspect must've nicked himself in the confusion."
Inspector Lee nodded slowly, his flashlight sweeping over the bedframe and bedsheet, where deep, jagged knife marks marred the surface. His expression grew grim. "You're right. Someone unfamiliar with a blade would easily cut themselves under pressure." He counted the gashes, his voice low. "Seventeen slashes. More than enough to charge him with attempted murder. This is damning evidence."
The sight of the knife marks sent a chill through Chen Ge's body, a stark reminder of how close he'd come to being the target of Zhang Peng's blade. Inspector Lee donned his gloves and motioned for Chen Ge to step back. "Don't touch anything here. We'll need to photograph everything for evidence."
"Understood. I'll cooperate fully," Chen Ge said, retreating from the room. As he moved back into the corridor, he retraced his steps to ensure the iron hammer was still hidden, then made his way to the first-floor bathroom. Standing before the splintered door, he stared at the gap where he'd last seen Zhang Peng. His mind churned with questions. If I'm not mistaken, Zhang Peng wrote something on that mirror. What was it? A message from the monster? A clue to its next move? The locked door and the mystery beyond it loomed like a puzzle, one Chen Ge knew he'd have to solve if he was to unravel the mirror monster's true intentions—and stop it before it struck again.