As the man with glasses and I went down the stairs, we tried not to make a sound.
We were also worried the owner of the house might come upstairs at that very moment.
The house had a spiral staircase.
Clearly, the distance from the third floor to the second was short.
But as we walked, it felt as though time stretched on forever, and the stairs seemed to go on without end.
The doll in my bag seemed to be moving.
But when I opened the bag, it was still in exactly the same position.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead.
I gripped the knife in my hand.
There were no lights on the stairs, only candles mounted on the walls.
Any flicker of their flames made us jump.
After a few steps, the man with glasses, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped.
Thinking something was wrong, I raised my blade, ready to face a monster.
But it turned out not to be a monster.
He had stopped because he saw a pile in the corner of the stairs… bodies, dismembered and pieced back together.
They had been joined together haphazardly, their faces wearing different expressions.
Since it was a staircase, even the slightest breeze could make the candles on the wall flicker.
In the dim light, a heap of bloody parts pieced together like dolls lay in a messy pile here.
They looked just like Lego bricks carelessly piled up by a child.
The man with glasses drew a sharp breath as he recognized one of the faces:
“I knew one of them. He was a player. I didn’t expect him to…”
A flicker of sadness crossed his eyes.
My heart felt heavy, too.
In this horror game, anyone could die at any moment.
Death was real. There was no coming back to the real world.
A companion who was still laughing and talking in one game might die without a whole body in the next.
Even worse, in most cases, people who met in one game were unlikely to meet again in another. They might never cross paths a second time in their lives.
Thinking of that, I realized it had been a long time since Gu Mòchí returned to the real world.
Although I had met him in a game before, the difference in our positions meant we couldn't face each other as freely as we once had.
I had always known he was hiding a lot from me.
This time, I couldn't remember his face at all.
If I met him when he had no memories, would I recognize him?
Would he still treat me differently?
Lost in our thoughts, the man with glasses and I continued down the stairs.
Then something suddenly fell to the floor on the second story and shattered.
4
At last, we reached the bottom of the stairs.
The sound had come from a room near the stairs.
The man with glasses looked at me as if asking whether we should go check it out.
I boldly took a few more steps toward the door.
In horror survival games, the ones who survive are those who don't let fear make them miss an opportunity.
Through the door, I heard the excited voice of a middle-aged man:
“Os, don't be afraid. Your skin is beautiful. It will make a wonderful doll, and I'm sure you'll love it!”
Os?
The mistress of the house had mentioned that name earlier, when we went upstairs.
Was Os their child?
From their conversation, it sounded as if the old homeowner planned to skin his own child and make a doll.
According to horror movie plots, when a monster goes after its own child, there's usually only one possibility.
That child holds an important clue.
The child is waiting for the main characters to come to the rescue, setting the next part of the story in motion.
Something else fell to the floor inside the room.
“Os, I'm very disappointed in you. When I was your age, I wasn't nearly as timid as you are.”
“You're not my father! My father would never use my skin to make a doll! Stay back!”
The situation grew more and more tense.
The man with glasses said, “There's no other way. I'll draw him away.”
I hid behind the door of the room next to it.
The man with glasses knocked on the door, then ran upstairs.
The old homeowner opened the door. Seeing no one there, he realized he'd been tricked, and his face darkened with anger.
He hurried up the stairs.
The distraction had worked.
I breathed a sigh of relief and prayed the man with glasses would hide well and not be found by the old homeowner.
Once I was sure the old homeowner wouldn't be coming back for now, I cautiously stepped into the room from earlier.
It was a study.
It was a mess. Books were scattered across the floor, and a shattered vase lay among them.
I swept my gaze around the room, searching.
My heart clenched.
Where was everyone?
Why was there no one in the room?
Where was Os?
Only the old homeowner had come out just now.
Or had this been a monster's trap all along, meant to draw us out?
Just as I was about to go back and rescue the man with glasses, I felt someone tug at my clothes.
I held my breath.
There was someone under the table!
Because my view had been limited, I'd overlooked this spot earlier. I hadn't expected someone to be hiding under the table.
“Are you… here to rescue me?”
A hoarse voice rang out.
I saw a teenage boy crawl out from under the table.
He was thin and gaunt, with a pale face and blood on his wrist.
5
“Os?”
I looked at him and tentatively called out the name.
He glanced at me nervously, then quickly lowered his head.
His thick, jet-black hair made his skin look even paler.
His eyelashes were long, too. From where I stood, they looked like a doll's—curled and delicate.
He was an exceptionally beautiful boy.
But as soon as I took one step toward him, he backed away two.
Did I look that scary?
After confirming there was no immediate threat, I took his hand and pulled him out.
“W-what are you going to do?”
His voice was clear and gentle; even when he was frightened, it was like a feather brushing lightly against my heart.
It made me feel ticklish.
But I didn't have time to pay attention to that.
We couldn't stay here long. We had to find somewhere safe first, then meet up with the man with glasses.
I found a storage room that looked reasonably safe.
I used my knife to carve a mark into the wall.
It was so subtle that no one would notice unless they looked closely.
This was the mark I left for the man with glasses. If he was still alive, he could follow it to find where I was.
The storage room was small, filled with odds and ends, and easy to hide in.
I found a candle and lit it with a match.
The feeble flame immediately illuminated both our faces.
The teenage boy was impossibly beautiful, but he kept his head bowed, so all I could see were his long eyelashes.
“Don't be afraid. You're safe now.”
I could feel him trembling with fear.
My voice softened as I picked up the gauze I'd just found and wrapped it around the wound on his wrist. “Does it hurt?”
His wrist had been slashed by something sharp, and blood quickly seeped through the gauze.
I had to wrap it one more time.
“Who are you, really?” Os asked softly.
He must have been in a lot of pain. I saw the corners of his eyes turn a little red.
I gentled my touch.
“I'm here to save you.”
The room was strangely quiet. When I finished bandaging him, I instinctively tied the bandage into a bow.
This scene felt so familiar.
The first time I brought Gu Mòchí home, I'd bandaged him just the same way.
I couldn't make out the teenage boy's face in the darkness.
He looked at the bow on his wrist and lightly licked his lips. “Will you protect me?”
“Absolutely.”
When I saw his long eyelashes flutter, I knew I'd succeeded.
All I had to do now was guide the boy in front of me into revealing the next clue.
“One day, my parents suddenly started acting strange. They liked making dolls, and even wanted to turn me into one.”
“I was so scared that I stayed in my bedroom and didn't dare go out. But not long ago, Dad dragged me down from the third floor.”
The boy in front of me was like a little animal with no sense of safety.
At some point, he'd wrapped his arms around mine and rested his head against my chest.
He was too close. I wanted to push him away.
But as soon as I lifted my hand, he looked up at me with watery eyes, full of unease.
Those clear, beautiful eyes really did look like a doll's. I felt as if I'd been bewitched, and stood there dazed, letting him hold me.
He fell asleep against my chest.
About twenty minutes later, a sound came from outside the door.
The man with glasses had found us.
He was injured, with a deep gash on his arm.
“I finally got away from that lunatic.”
I looked at his wound anxiously.
“It's nothing,” he said as he bandaged his wound, glancing at the boy lying in my arms.
“Is that him?”
I nodded. The man with glasses hesitated.
He said quietly, “We still don't know who he is. Don't get too close. He's dangerous.”
I knew, but for some reason, just now I'd been like a doll, letting Os hold me.
I felt his arm tighten around me.
At some point, Os had woken up and was watching the man with glasses warily.
The man with glasses seemed a little surprised to see the boy clinging to me like that.
He held out a hand. “Hi. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you.”
Os ignored him, clinging anxiously to my arm.
The man with glasses withdrew his hand and awkwardly scratched his nose.
With my prompting, Os continued telling us about the strange events that had happened recently.
“A week ago, my parents stopped going out to work. They locked the front door and wouldn't let me leave, either.”
The man with glasses and I exchanged a look.
The door was locked.
Could the exit really be through the front door?
The owner of the house was usually on the second floor, while the mistress of the house wandered around the first. Without a good opportunity, it would be very difficult for us to get from the second floor down to the first.