Chapter 4: The Hair in Grandma's Quilt

Feeling the gaze on his back, Jon remained calm, showing no signs of panic.

He quickly recalled the known rules in his mind, but there was nothing about "gazes" that he could remember.

The only somewhat related rule was Rule 7—

If you hear a "strange" noise in the house, stop whatever you're doing immediately, stay quiet, and go to the second floor to look towards the ranger's watchtower. The ranger will help you.

But Jon thought that the slow creak of the door hinges didn't fall under the category of "strange noises."

It was simply that the house was too quiet, making it sound a bit eerie, but not something requiring the ranger's help.

As for the source of the gaze on his back, Jon had already figured it out.

Grandma's letter mentioned in Rule 4—Always remember that you are the only person in the house. However, this didn't mean there were no pets in the house.

Besides, this was a game governed by specific rules, as long as you followed the correct rules, there would be no danger.

Logically, this meant that the "strangeness" in the house had no physical form or couldn't move on its own, and wouldn't directly attack the player.

Since it had no physical form, it couldn't open doors.

Therefore, right after the game began, if a player heard a noise and saw the door being pushed open, it must be due to a pet in the house.

It could be a cat or a dog, animals known for their keen hearing.

Judging by the dust accumulated on the tabletop, the room hadn't been cleaned for about two weeks. That meant Grandma had likely passed away around two weeks ago.

Some dogs have the habit of hiding food, a trait inherited from their wolf ancestors. So even if no one fed them for two weeks, they wouldn't die as long as there was water to drink.

Thus, behind the door, it must be Grandma's pet dog.

This simple logical deduction was child's play for Jon, a seasoned mystery writer.

Without hesitation, he turned around, walked to the door, and pulled it open.

"Woof~oo!"

A thin, gray-furred dog squeezed through.

This dog was very friendly, wagging its stout tail and rubbing against Jon's pant leg.

Jon looked down at the dog. Its ears stood straight up, and its paws were quite large, indicating it was a young large-breed dog.

"Well, what a cute dog," he smiled faintly at the dog. "Alright, that's enough, I don't want to smell like a dog."

Just as he had guessed.

The game had only just begun and wouldn't expose players to danger without warning.

With the rules he had so far, Jon could already deduce quite a bit.

"Howl~oo~oo—"

The dog let out a contented whimper and lay down in front of Jon, exposing its belly in a plea for a belly rub.

Seeing such an enthusiastic dog, most people would probably start petting it immediately.

However, Jon ignored the dog's plea for attention.

He remained vigilant. As a mystery writer, Jon knew that every character introduced had a purpose.

Putting himself in someone else's shoes, if he were the one creating this creepy tale.

Jon certainly wouldn't design a meaningless dog just to spook players at the start.

Moreover, the dog was the only living thing in the house besides himself. Its existence must have a special significance or crucial role.

Jon stepped over the dog rolling on the floor and entered the hallway outside the room.

He looked at the note he had just found.

The note was torn from a complete piece of stationery.

Perhaps there were other notes scattered somewhere in this house, he needed to find them all.

Jon's thinking was very clear.

The next two primary tasks were to familiarize himself with the layout of the cottage and to search for the remaining notes.

He moved to the hallway outside, which led to the stairs going down.

The hallway extended inward, with two more rooms. One of the doors was ajar, and Jon could see a mirror inside.

Through the mirror's reflection, he could see the bed in the room.

Judging by the beddings and furnishings, this room must have been where Grandma lived.

Jon walked deeper into the second floor, his feet pressing down on the old wooden floorboards, producing creaking sounds with each step.

Soon, he reached the partly open door.

Luck was on his side, just as he entered, he found another note on the vanity mirror to the right of the door.

He reached out, tore off the note, and began to read.

8.The ranger is a hairy middle-aged man. He won't ask to visit the cottage on his own. If he tries to enter, let the dog bite him and hide in the attic.

9.The dog is part of our family. Treat him well. Make him dinner every night, don't let him go hungry, and don't let him be picky about food.

10.Keep the cottage clean. A filthy environment will make you sick, and it will notice too. If you start feeling ill, eat more pickles and (some indistinguishable words), hiding in the attic is the right choice.

11.Protect all mirrors, do not break them.

Jon quickly scanned the note's contents, paying special attention to the tenth rule.

The term "it" appeared for the first time.

It seemed Grandma knew there was some kind of non-physical entity haunting the cottage. Perhaps Grandma's death was also related to "it".

Secondly, this part of the letter contained contradictory instructions once again.

The attic, mentioned multiple times in the letter, had to be a crucial place.

Grandma wanted him to stay away from the attic, while "it" wanted him to enter it.

Jon needed to deduce which message truly came from Grandma.

Jon, ever perceptive, discovered another clue.

The entire letter was written by Grandma herself, without any subsequent alterations by "it."

As for why the contradictory instructions appeared—

It was because Grandma's mind or perception was influenced or disturbed by "it." While writing the letter, Grandma wasn't aware that under "its" cognitive interference, she had written many incorrect or even completely opposite rules.

Jon's confidence in this deduction was logically supported.

If "it" could alter the letter's content, it could have easily rewritten it to be flawless, entirely leading to death traps.

This would not only prevent suspicion from the players but also greatly increase efficiency.

However, "it" didn't do that, nor did it destroy the letter, indicating that "it" was incapable of doing so.

Furthermore, "it" couldn't fully control Grandma, suggesting its cognitive influence was relatively weak.

Jon continued searching for clues in the room.

This was indeed Grandma's room, as he found many clothes belonging to an elderly person. Although the room was filled with many items, it was neatly organized and cozy.

However, one thing caught his attention—

Despite everything being meticulously arranged, the blanket on the bed was carelessly thrown about. Jon approached the bed, his intuition kicking in.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to lift the blanket.

Underneath, the bedsheet was covered with a large amount of hair and dry, dark bloodstains, matted together. Jon observed closely, noticing some dried-up rat corpses with signs of having been gnawed on.

"Woof!"

The dog had followed Jon, now sitting beside him.

Jon frowned as he looked at the hair on the bed, something strange was going on.

He initially thought that after Grandma passed away, the dog had been left alone in the house, cold and without food, resorting to catching mice to survive.

With no firewood in the cottage, the cold and lonely dog might have sought the familiar scent of its owner on Grandma's bed.

But the hair on the bed was long and brown-black.

Jon reached out and pulled a strand of hair, which kept getting longer and longer.

Until it measured a full 15 inches.

This wasn't dog hair, it was human hair, more specifically, a woman's hair.

Jon muttered to himself, analyzing, "There might be a woman hiding in this house, someone with a peculiar habit of gnawing on rats."

The woman gnawing on rats might not be out of hunger.

Suppose she didn't know about the food in the cellar. If she were truly on the brink of starvation, despite the brutality, her primary choice for survival would logically be the dog.

Yet, she chose the more elusive rats instead.

Jon gazed at the rat corpses, now shriveled and sunken as if drained of blood.

Thus, he deduced that the woman hidden in the house had a peculiar habit of gnawing on rats.

"But the note clearly said that I was the only person in the house..." Jon squinted, pondering the note left by Grandma.

Could the woman be a ghost?

"Growl... Woof! Woof! Woof!"

The prviously docile dog suddenly growled and began barking at the mirror.