Attention: Our website has moved! Please try going to www.Meejee.net to access the latest chapters for all of our stories. Along with some new ones! Thank you for your support! =)
Every 3 days I get 3 pictures that foreshadow someone’s death. I set off to find the source of these pictures and found myself trapped in a ghost house with 108 beautiful, female ghosts. What tragedies led them here, and what do they want with me?
Chapter 001 Introduction
My name is Wu Rui, I’m 20 years old and a simple office worker who lives in a small town. Well, I used to be. I was fired about three months ago because, according to my boss, my “negative attitude was causing low morale amongst the other employees”. If he had said I was lazy or unwilling to work, I would have been able to say that simply wasn’t true. However, I must admit that I’ve been quite a downer lately. To put it lightly. Take today for example, I haven’t even eaten, slept, or gotten out of bed the entire day.
It was the mid-afternoon and it didn’t look like anything was going to change. Several hours from now I’d probably still find myself here: hugging my legs and staring blankly into space with all the lights turned off.
“Tap-tap,” a polite knocking came from the door.
I looked up. Staring at the door with a trace of fear lingering in the air around me, I felt the stiffness in my body, a side effect of staying in the same position for too long.
I didn't want to open the door, but I knew there was no getting around it.
I opened the locked door and saw a deliveryman looking for something in his sidecar. He must have heard the sound of the door opening, because he said, very politely and without raising his head, “Excuse me; please wait a minute.”
I nodded slightly and leaned against the door frame. I did not urge him; I even hoped he’d take his time.
However, the deliveryman quickly raised his head and joked with me, “Here it is! Hey man, I gotta say, your decadent lifestyle is getting worse.” He said taking a look at my appearance and surroundings.
The deliveryman's words were said with a tone that expressed familiarity. Anyone who delivered a letter every three days would become familiar with the recipient, even if it was just a one sided relationship.
I didn't want to get to know him, and always dreaded seeing him.
The deliveryman handed me a white envelope and said with smile, “If you wouldn’t mind signing right here…This is your pen pal, right? A letter every three days - very punctual! Having a pen pal is really rare in this day and age.”
I ignored him, taking the white envelope and gazing at it. I then retreated back into the room, closed the door, and locked it.
“Well then, I’ll just sign this for you,” the deliveryman said with a loud voice from outside. He left immediately afterwards.
I slowly sat back in my bed and reassumed my previous posture. Sitting like this is the only way I could make myself feel a small sense of security, although I knew I was just deceiving myself.
The white envelope sat in front of me. I stared at it. The only thing on the plain white envelope was information about the recipient, but no return address. There was a picture of an eye in the space where the return address should be. It looked like deranged child drew it, with its twisted and strange appearance.
I stared at the letter and sat there all afternoon, until the last rays of the sunset directly hit the envelope through the open window.
I stretched out my hand. To be honest, I never wanted to learn what on earth could be found inside. Nevertheless, I still couldn’t help but pick up the envelope, as if something had possessed me to do so.
I slowly tore the envelope along the dotted line and a few photos slid out; three photos in total.
Sure enough, there were three photos as there always were. They fell on the bed neatly, as if they had been carefully arranged and nearly perfectly aligned.
I hesitated for a long time. Finally, I couldn’t help picking up these photos as my hands trembled and the sky outside quickly darkened.
There was a photo that represented life on the very top. In this photograph was an image of an eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl standing by a flower bouquet, making a peace sign with her right hand. Her body tilted slightly toward the bouquet, with a smile as beautiful as a flower blooming in the spring.
It was beautiful. I took a deep breath and put the first photo aside.
The second picture was taken on a dark riverbank, where a girl in a white dress was lying against a rock. Her scattered hair covered her face and her slender feet were powerless in the water, appearing to bob up and down with the current.
I couldn’t see the face of the girl in this photo, but I knew this was the same girl from the first photo.
The last photo was also taken on a dark riverbank, and there was also a girl in a white dress standing in the river, the water barely reaching her waistline. Her head was turned with a beautiful smile just like the first photo. There seemed to be nothing special about it, but it felt a little strange.
I looked at it carefully and finally realized that the girl was standing with her back to the camera, and her head was turned a full 180 degrees.
My heart thumped faster and a chill ran down my spine. I hurriedly tucked my back against the wall, which made me less afraid.
The photos fell on the bed as I moved toward the wall. The third photo, which should have landed on top, had strangely landed at the bottom. Once again, the three photos were stacked neatly on the bed.