The day I moved into the Happy Community, I received a resident's handbook that could kill.
[Welcome, Mr. Li Lei, new resident of the Happy Community. For your own happiness and that of others, please be sure to abide by the following rules. Remember, we are a happy family, and all rules are founded on the principles of "love" and "mutual support."]
I scoffed. The corporate formalism was laid on pretty thick. I flipped through it casually, but as my eyes swept over the articles inside, the smile on my face gradually froze.
The Happy Community Resident's Handbook
I. General Rules:
This community boasts excellent greenery, and stray cats are a common sight. Please treat them kindly, but remember, you may only feed the white cats. If you encounter a black cat, turn around and leave immediately. Do not make any eye contact with it. It is not hungry.
The community observes "Silent Hours" daily from 12:00 AM to 4:00 AM. During this period, please do not make any noise and ensure all your curtains are drawn. If you hear any knocking on your door or window, no matter how familiar it sounds, do not respond. More importantly, do not open the door or draw the curtains. They are just lost.
Neighbors should help one another. If your neighbor gives you a gift (usually food), you must accept it with a smile and express your sincere gratitude. However, be aware: never, under any circumstances, consume food given by a neighbor. Please dispose of it in the red trash bin downstairs immediately after they leave.
Community security guards patrol 24/7. They are your guarantee of safety. When you see them, greet them proactively. They may ask you questions, such as "Are you happy?" You must give an affirmative and enthusiastic answer. Do not deceive them. They can tell the difference.
All personal items in red (clothing, decorations, etc.) are prohibited within the community. Red is "its" favorite color, and you do not want to attract "its" attention.
If you see a little girl in a red dress playing alone in the community, leave immediately. Do not speak to her. Do not look at her face. If she approaches you, close your eyes and count to 10 in your head. If she is still there after 10 seconds, remember: she is not seeking help.
All rules in this handbook must be obeyed. It is your only credential for survival in this community. Please trust it.
Please do not entirely trust this handbook.
By the time I read the eighth rule, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight with a swoosh.
What was this? Some kind of schizophrenic threat? The contradiction between rules seven and eight was like a malicious curse, making my heart clench inexplicably. I tossed the handbook onto the coffee table, deciding to ignore such spooky gimmicks. It was probably just something the management came up with to scare tenants and keep them from causing trouble.
I started unpacking. It wasn't until night fell and my stomach protested with an empty roar that I realized I had forgotten to eat. I opened a food delivery app on my phone, only to find that there were no businesses within a several-kilometer radius. The delivery map was a complete blank.
"What the hell..." I muttered. It seemed my only option was to go downstairs and try my luck at finding a convenience store.
I put on my shoes. Just as my hand touched the doorknob, my eyes caught sight of the handbook on the coffee table again. As if possessed, I remembered the first rule.
[...If you encounter a black cat, turn around and leave immediately. Do not make any eye contact with it. It is not hungry.]
I shook my head with a self-deprecating laugh. This stupid handbook was really making me paranoid.
I pushed the door open. The voice-activated light in the hallway flickered on, casting a dim, orange glow. As I rounded the corner of the staircase, a pitch-black shadow was crouched there, its pair of vertical, emerald-green pupils staring out from the dim light.
It was a black cat.
It was exceptionally thin, yet its fur was glossy and smooth, as if meticulously groomed. It watched me silently, neither meowing nor moving. In those jewel-like pupils, I couldn't see any emotion belonging to an animal, only a dead, scrutinizing coldness, as if it were sizing up an inanimate object.
My heart skipped a beat.
"Meow?" I ventured, testing the waters.
The black cat didn't react, continuing to stare at me with those uncanny eyes. An unprovoked chill rose from the soles of my feet and shot through my entire body. I remembered the handbook's warning. My mind told me it was absurd, but my body had already reacted.
I spun around abruptly and dashed back to my apartment, 404, as fast as I could. Unlock, enter, lock. The entire sequence was a single, fluid motion, as if something were silently chasing me from behind.
I leaned against the door, panting heavily, my heart hammering against my ribs like a frantic drum. A layer of cold sweat had already soaked my back.
"Crazy... I must be going crazy..." I muttered to myself. "Getting this worked up over a cat? Really?"
But I couldn't get that pair of emerald-green pupils out of my head.
I didn't dare go out again that night. I rummaged through my belongings and finally found a forgotten, expired packet of instant noodles in a kitchen corner, left by the previous tenant. I chewed the dry, hard noodle block and washed it down with tap water. At last, my stomach was full.
After eating, I sat on the sofa and picked up the handbook again. This time, I read it with extreme care, trying to find any clues hidden between the lines. But apart from the unsettling rules, there was nothing else.
Time ticked by, and it was soon approaching midnight.
[The community observes "Silent Hours" daily from 12:00 AM to 4:00 AM... Please do not make any noise and ensure all your curtains are drawn.]
I glanced at the window. The thick, blackout curtains were drawn. I walked over and carefully checked them, making sure there wasn't the slightest gap. Then, I turned off all the lights, leaving only a dim bedside lamp on in the bedroom. I took off my shoes and walked barefoot around the apartment, terrified of making a sound.
I lay in bed, pulling the covers over my head, forcing myself to sleep. But the more I tried, the more awake I became. The entire community was eerily quiet. There was no sound of wind, no chirping of insects. The dead silence was more unnerving than any noise.
Knock... knock, knock...
Just then, a faint knocking sound came from the door.
My body instantly went rigid.
The sound was soft and rhythmic. It didn't sound like it was made by human knuckles, but more like fingernails lightly scraping against the wooden door.
I held my breath, not daring to move.
[If you hear any knocking on your door... no matter how familiar it sounds, do not respond...]
The rule from the handbook flashed wildly in my mind.
Knock... knock, knock...
The knocking continued, unhurried, patient. Then, a soft voice whispered from outside the door, as if someone were calling out in a low tone.
"Li Lei... open the door..."
My name! The voice sounded exactly like my mother's. But my mom was thousands of miles away in my hometown. How could she possibly be here?
"Lei, it's me. Mom came to see you... Why won't you open the door?"
The voice was filled with concern and confusion, so real it almost made me waver. I could almost picture my mother standing outside, a worried look on her face.
"I know you're in there... Hurry up and open the door. Let Mom see you..."
My palms were drenched in sweat, my teeth chattering. My rational mind told me it was fake, but my emotions were in turmoil. What if... what if it really was my mom?
As I was torn by this internal conflict, the knocking suddenly stopped. The "mother's" voice also vanished.
I let out a long sigh of relief, thinking it had given up. But in the next second, a sharp, piercing scraping sound erupted from the direction of the window!
Screeeech—screeeech—
It sounded as if someone were frantically clawing at the glass with their fingernails, a sound so shrill it made my scalp tingle. I yanked the covers over my ears, curling my body into a ball. My heart was about to leap out of my throat.
I didn't dare look toward the window. I was afraid of what unspeakable thing I might see behind the curtain.
[...do not open the door or draw the curtains. They are just lost.]
Lost? What kind of thing gets "lost" and knocks on someone's window like that?
The scratching continued for nearly ten minutes before it finally ceased. The world returned to that suffocating, dead silence. I don't know how I survived it. I only remember that when I opened my eyes again, dawn was breaking.
My whole body ached as if my bones had been removed, and my spirit was utterly drained. That one night was more exhausting than pulling three all-nighters at work.
I tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty. The dim orange light was off, replaced by the faint light of early morning.
I then walked to the window. After a long hesitation, I reached out with a trembling hand and yanked the curtains open.
Outside, the sun was shining, and birds were chirping. In the small garden downstairs, a few elderly people were practicing Tai Chi. Everything seemed so normal, so peaceful. The window pane was perfectly intact, without a single scratch on it.
If not for the lingering terror still gripping my heart, I would have almost believed that everything last night had been just a nightmare.