Nightmare Strikes

Translator: Cinder Translations

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"Ma'am, could you please repeat what you just said?"

"Sure, but please, do not tell anyone, especially my husband and daughter!"

"I understand. Can we start now?"

"It all began with a phone call.

The call was from my sister, three nights ago.

She sounded strange, her teeth chattering, her voice barely escaping from her throat.

I asked if she was feeling unwell, but she didn't answer; she kept repeating a dream she had recently."

"A dream?"

"Yes, a dream.

She said she often dreams of waking up at night, leaving her bed, walking down the stairs from her attic, and finally stopping in front of a door to the basement.

It felt very real, too real to be just a dream."

"But your sister still called it a dream. Why?"

"Because... she doesn't even have a basement in her house!

What's more terrifying is that when she faced that strange door, she felt an impulse to open it."

"What happened next?"

"She disappeared, just that night after she called me."

"So, you came to me today to—"

"Dr. Jiang!"

"Yes, go ahead."

"I had a dream about a door too, just yesterday."

He turned off the recording device, and the not-so-large room fell silent.

Jiang Cheng sat at his desk, his gaze lowered, with a copy of the evening newspaper from Rongcheng on the table.

"Missing Person Notice: Hu Yan, female, 47 years old, 160 cm tall, rectangular face, fair skin, recently missing from home late on the 13th due to poor mental state, last seen wearing a light pink silk nightgown. Please contact us if you have any information."

His gaze skipped over the contact information, landing on a photo printed a bit to the left of the notice. It was a picture of an older woman.

The same woman who had come to see him yesterday and left the recording.

Jiang Cheng wasn't in the habit of reading the news; the newspaper was brought by the police about an hour ago.

They had discovered that Hu Yan had been here before she went missing.

He truthfully stated her mental state and shared the story she had told him.

He also handed over the recording she had allowed him to keep.

After taking his statement, two police officers left with the recording. The female officer with a neat ponytail glanced back at Jiang Cheng several times.

This man, of a similar age to her, seemed unnaturally calm, whether during the questioning or while recounting the unbelievable story.

After politely seeing them off, Jiang Cheng returned to his seat.

The crisp sound of keyboard strokes filled the room, everything proceeding normally and orderly.

As night deepened, the distant neon lights gradually brightened.

Jiang Cheng glanced at the time in the lower right corner of his computer screen, stood up, and walked to the studio door, first closing the outer glass door, then the inner door, and finally locking it.

After finishing this, he took a moment to make himself a cup of coffee.

Holding the coffee cup, he sat down beside the sofa.

The sofa was prepared for customers visiting his studio.

Yesterday, Ms. Hu Yan and the two police officers had also sat here.

Jiang Cheng reached into the gap between the armrest and the sofa, skillfully retrieving a recording device.

The indicator light showing it was on lit up; after a slight adjustment with his index finger, the voice of the officer began to play.

Jiang Cheng listened while sipping his coffee.

Once the cup was empty, the conversation with the officer came to an end. Even when he got up from the sofa, there was no particular expression on his face.

He hung the coffee cup, which had been washed with clean water, upside down on the drying rack, dried his hands, and walked toward his desk.

On his way past the sofa, he casually picked up the recorder.

Business hadn't been great recently. The previous recording was from a woman named Hu Yan, who left a deep impression on Jiang Cheng.

Her story was indeed bizarre, but for Jiang Cheng, who had interacted with a significant number of patients with mild to moderate delusions, he cared more about the integrity of the story.

In his view, it was different from the usual patients who exaggerated certain differences to seek attention from others, thus blurring or even ignoring the details.

Hu Yan's account was relatively complete, and she handled the details well. In her own dream, she even remembered accidentally stepping on her daughter's plush slippers while going downstairs.

The police visit also brought Jiang Cheng some new information.

They had subtly mentioned their suspicion that Hu Yan's disappearance was related to a relative, while in Hu Yan's story, her sister had gone missing before her.

These two points confirmed that Hu Yan's sister's disappearance was likely credible.

Furthermore, Hu Yan's family had published a missing person notice, stating that she left home late at night wearing only her pajamas, which were made of thin silk.

In late autumn, Jiang Cheng, based on his understanding of the person involved, felt that she didn't seem like someone who would do something so foolish.

Combining Hu Yan's strange disappearance with the fact that her sister went missing before her, Jiang Cheng felt that this matter was not so simple.

So, to save brain cells for the business that might come knocking the next day, and for the collagen on his face, Jiang Cheng hastily went to sleep after applying a facial mask.

His studio was divided into two levels; the first floor served as a reception area for clients, while the loft above naturally became his living space.

It was about thirty square meters, which he partitioned into two rooms.

Climbing the narrow stairs led to the living room, and walking further in led to the bedroom.

There was no bed in the bedroom, only a thin mattress spread out on the floor.

At this moment, Jiang Cheng lay in the center of the mattress, the blanket pulled up to his chin, sleeping meticulously.

He didn't know how long he had slept when he suddenly opened his eyes.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, his eyes gradually unfocused, and after a moment, they suddenly narrowed into a slit.

He lifted his upper body off the mattress and sat up slowly.

What's going on?

His mind was clear, and he could feel feedback from every part of his body, yet he couldn't control this body.

A strange sense of palpitations surged from his heart, as if something had been unleashed.

First, his left leg left the mattress, then the right leg, and he stood up, his movements stiff and mechanical.

Just as his brain was in a frenzy of thought, his body began to move on its own.

Forward.

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

One step, two steps, he walked toward the bedroom door like a walking corpse.

Then, he moved into the living room.

Finally, he walked down the wooden stairs, step by step.

The old stairs, which should have creaked incessantly, made no sound at all.

Not just the stairs; after waking, Jiang Cheng heard no sounds at all.

The night was as silent as death.

His eyes turned within a limited range; the current situation was undoubtedly strange and dangerous.

The once-familiar environment felt strange in the night.

As his last foot stepped down, he saw a door standing before him.

A pitch-black door.

Embedded in the wall.

(End of the Chapter)

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