96 The Only Way to Win

 

“Get back here!” Han Fei chased after the ghost. At that moment, the main bedroom door shoved open. The mother had shed her human skin and morphed into a giant monster. Stimulated by her child’s cries for help, her body grew twice as big and she was covered in blood. When the toddler ghost saw the woman, it immediately shifted back into the helpless child. He held his injured leg and cried while pointing accusatorily at Han Fei. Feeling pain on her child’s behalf, the woman charged at Han Fei.

Han Fei knew this was not a physical match he could win. He turned back into the nursery and kicked the door close behind him!

“Get out of there! Come with me!” He reached under the bed. Han Fei grabbed the real toddler’s collar and yanked him out. The younger brother was startled by Han Fei’s harsh action. Soon two kids were heard crying inside the room. The mother rammed so heavily against the door that the walls trembled!

Han Fei retreated to the deepest corner of the room where the window was. Suddenly, the curtain lifted from a non-existent wind. A light touch landed on the back of Han Fei’s head. He turned to look and saw a man hanging from behind the curtain. The thing that touched Han Fei’s head was the tip of his shoe. As their eyes met, the hanging man was already falling towards Han Fei. At the same time, the nursery door cracked open. The mother poked her bloody face, that was covered in wooden splinters and blood, into the room. She glared fiendishly at Han Fei. His body was torn open and pain silenced Han Fei’s consciousness.

…

His eyes flew open. Han Fei shattered the frame and stared at Room 1091 coldly. ‘If I can kill all the ghosts and humans inside the room, I should be able to unlock a different reward.’ The thought entered Han Fei’s mind and it frightened him. Han Fei wondered where that chilling thought came from. It was as if he was slowly transforming into someone else, ‘Looks like the system notification was not complete. Dying here will not only make you lose your memory but your humanity as well.’

After loops of painful, devastating deaths, the struggle in endless despair insidiously changed the young man’s personality. ‘There is only one solution to break out of this situation and that is to face death head on, and find the correct path among this endless reincarnation.’ After using the glass shard to carve out his own name and number of deaths, Han Fei pushed open the door.

He used the main bedroom to trap the mother and then manipulated the black hair inside the bathroom to swallow the decapitated girl. Han Fei cleared the fridge and left the door open facing the side of the nursery door. He collected the toy models to use as bait for the toddler ghost. Han Fei lined up the models in a row like the witch leading Hansel and Gretel with the trail of sweets. The last model was placed close to the open fridge. The toddler ghost fell easily into the trap. The moment he toddled to the spot Han Fei needed him to be, Han Fei jumped out from his hiding spot and threw the brazier at the ghost. The ghost was slammed by the brazier into the fridge. Before the ghost could react, Han Fei rushed forward to close the door. Then he dragged the fridge down the corridor and dumped its content right inside the bathroom.

The toddler ghost tried his best to escape but it was not a match for the entwining ropes of black hair. He screeched for help but it was to no avail. To ensure that the blame did not fall on him, Han Fei quickly retreated before the mother reappeared. He dragged the fridge as quickly as he could away from the bathroom and towards the nursery. The whole process took less than 30 seconds, Han Fei was getting so good at this after multiple practices.

‘The real younger brother is hiding under the bed. The mother will still get here after he starts to cry. Therefore, I need to deal with all the other ghosts before I can deal with him.’ Han Fei’s expression was eerily devoid of emotion. He raised the knife and slashed at the air before him as he made his way into the nursery. When he raised the knife, there was nothing at the door. But when the first slash fell, two arms appeared just in time to be chopped. It was as if the arms appeared on purpose to be harmed by Han Fei. After slicing through the arms, Han Fei jumped on the bed and waved his knife madly at the curtain.

The hanged man howled in pain. Han Fei grabbed the man by his feet and was about to fling the man into the fridge but, right at that moment, the closet doors opened. Han Fei released his hold on the man’s leg and raised the knife to pierce at a particular direction behind him. It was as if the man had eyes on his back. The bloody clothing was poked through. Han Fei then continued his work on the hanged man. Both ghosts were heavily injured. Just as Han Fei thought he could let his guard down, the shadows under the study table gushed out like waves. These were wandering souls who normally hid at dark corners. Endless hands latched onto Han Fei’s body and the man was eventually dragged against his will under the table. The last thing he saw was a wall of deadly visage.

…

His eyes flew open for the 14th time. Death by the mother’s  bludgeoning.

His eyes flew open for the 15th time. Death by hanging.

His eyes flew open for the 16th time. Death by suffocating on the bloody clothing.

His eyes flew open for the 17th time. Death by being surrounded by the mother and son.

His eyes flew open for the 18th time. Death by strangulation by the black hair.

…

His eyes slowly flickered open. The man picked up the frame and shattered it. He picked up the sharpest shard and slashed at his arm almost mechanically. After making 44 gashes, he hesitated for a moment before he made the 45th. ‘What do these bloody gashes represent? Why am I so familiar with this pain?’

His eyes rimmed with red. Studying his arms, one of them was dripping with blood but the other was unscathed. ‘I believe I have forgotten something.’ His bloody arm reached for the glass shard as he carved out a name on the other arm as if on rote. Han Fei!

Pushing open the door, and blocking the head, the man entered the room. “The next step is to take the keys.” The man had forgotten many things but he could not have been more familiar with this room. It was as if he owned Room 1091. He was familiar with every occupants of the place and everyone was associated with a unique kind of pain in his mind.

The mother was tricked into the bedroom. He acquired the ropes. After dealing with the decapitated girl, he switched on the stove inside the kitchen. While he set up the trail of toys, he took a shot at the mirror in the bathroom. The man’s every move was unnaturally calculated. He entered the nursery 3 times. The first time was to lure out the toddler ghost among the toys and used the hair in the bathroom to eliminate him. The second time, he chopped off the arms that dangled from the door. Then he sought up the dagger hidden among the toys and used it to pierce right through the hanged man’s heart. Before the bloody clothing appeared, he retreated from the room. He moved the living room sofa to bulwark the door to the main bedroom, to block the mother’s exit.

The third time he entered the nursery, he was just in time for the bloody clothing just finished its feast on the hanged man’s corpse. The man opened his arms wide and allowed the shirt to clamber onto his body. Bloody threads unravelled from the clothing’s seams and they punctured through the man’s skin to feed on his blood. However, it also protected the man’s vitals. Kicking over the study table, the wandering souls were forced out from their hiding place. They crowded the room and gnarled angrily at the man.

The man was unfazed by this horrifying spectre. He had amazing short-term memory because he managed to memorize the movement of each individual soul. As the souls jumped at him, he shifted elegantly between the claws and jaws. The whole thing looked like a well-rehearsed dance of death. The man weaved his way through the endless aggression towards the bathroom. He borrowed the sea of hair’s power to consume most of the wandering souls. Then with the knife in hand and the bloody shirt draped over him, the man spared no mercy on the straggling souls. After all the souls were taken care of, the man walked towards the kitchen. By then, his face was pale because the clothing had almost drained his body of blood.

The man dived towards the scorching flames. The fire licked at his body and the clothing. The man gave not a whimper while the clothing wailed in agony. The former merely watched on with disinterest. He only left after the last bit of the cloth was turned into ash. Dragging his broken body, the man picked up a random object from the corridor and threw it right at the mirror. As the last shard of mirror fell from the mirror frame, the woman and the sea of black hair disappeared with a final shriek.

Slowly, the man turned to face the nursery. He counted silently. 3 seconds later, a toddler with a scarred face crawled out from under the bed. The toddler had an innocent expression but his body kept transmogrifying. Veins bulged on his skin and malice exploded from the miniature body. The younger brother was transforming into a monster. It swallowed everything around him, the toys, the food, the light, and even his parents’ love. The monster became more deformed the more it ate. If the man did not make his next move soon, he too would end up the toddler’s meal.

“Based on the patient’s record, the boy believes that only after murdering the demon on his younger brother’s body that his life can return to normal, but is there really a demon possessing his younger brother?” The monster slowly approached. Despite the wounds, the man’s eyes were clear. “I have forgotten the reason why I am here but I remember someone told me that I have to save all humans but eliminate all the ghosts I can find.”

The man raised the knife not at the monster but at himself. “No matter how ghastly his younger brother has become, he will always be a family to the boy. The reason I’m still here is because there is one last ghost in this house who is not dead.” The blade pressed against his pulse. The man remembered his own death portrait at the front door. “This final ghost is me.”

The knife sliced through his throat. The room started to haemorrhage as the truth was being revealed.