Chapter 224: He Must Be a Patient!
"What's wrong with you?" Su Luoluo looked at Du Chaojin, whose face was pale and forehead covered in cold sweat, and she herself became tense.
"Don't be scared when I tell you the truth." Xiao Du leaned close to Su Luoluo: "I suspect this haunted house is really haunted."
"Don't try to scare me on purpose." Su Luoluo was a haunted house enthusiast who had visited many such attractions, but she had never seen one like Boss Chen's—a maze-like, fully open space for free exploration.
"Teacher Han's earlier guesses were all wrong. None of those mannequins are staff members! It's not the haunted house crew moving them—they're moving on their own!" Xiao Du clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking: "Teacher Han is useless now. I need to report this to the boss and Brother Song."
"They've already gone far ahead. Don't run too fast!"
Xiao Du, anxious, dashed forward. Su Luoluo stood in the middle, unsure whether to chase after him or wait with Ye Xiaoxin for Teacher Han.
"A haunted house that's actually haunted? Mannequins moving on their own?" Ye Xiaoxin took out her notepad and jotted down these two points: "Even professionals from other haunted houses get fooled. This place is extraordinary."
She gave it high praise: "It's been a while since I've encountered something this interesting. I'll take a good look around today."
"Judging by how that boy spoke, he didn't seem to be lying." Su Luoluo, out of kindness, warned Ye Xiaoxin: "Let's speed up too. There's safety in numbers."
"I've always thought haunted houses and magic tricks work on the same principle—using illusions to wow visitors. The more convincing the illusion, the greater the success." Ye Xiaoxin took off her coat and tied it around her waist, stretching. The breathtaking curve of her figure annoyed the only spectator present: "From that perspective, West Suburb Horror House is undoubtedly a success."
"Well, you stay here. I'm leaving."
The visitors had unknowingly scattered. None noticed that the red words on the walls were deepening in color, as if about to drip with blood.
...
"Boss, don't try to talk me out of it. Han Qiuming does have some skill, but that doesn't mean we have to take his crap!" Song An felt indignant for Guo Miao: "He came up with the design, sure, but we all worked on the content. We handled the actual scene setup. What does he have to do with it?"
"Alright, alright, I know all that. Endure for now, and the storm will pass. He's the designer the boss hired, after all." Guo Miao, older and more resigned to things, said: "This industry is on the decline. We're all just trying to make a living. No need to make things worse."
"But look at his smug face, like he's got it made. And he's planning to tattle to the boss? Honestly, if the boss replaces you and puts him in charge, I'll quit on the spot." Song An was straightforward, with no hidden agendas.
"Don't worry, the boss won't agree." Guo Miao sighed after speaking, though he wasn't confident. Ever since they were forced to move out of Xinhai, their haunted house had been on a downward spiral: "Let's find the recorder first. There are fans of Tian Teng Hospital outside watching. We can't let them down."
"Fine."
The two walked ahead. After turning the second corner, they found the next scene was still a corridor.
"What's the point of this haunted house? Just making us walk endlessly?"
The light grew dimmer. The corridor walls darkened, mottled and stained, as if embedded with blood vessels.
Stepping on uneven bedding and inhaling the strange mix of medicine and other odors, it felt like crawling into the throat of some monster.
"Boss Chen must have a reason for this design. Maybe to create a more realistic feel." Guo Miao scraped off a small piece of wall plaster, crushing it easily with his fingers: "On the way here, I noticed some room numbers outside weren't painted over. All rooms on the first corridor started with 4, the second with 3, and this one with 2."
"The numbers are decreasing?"
"I suspect the real-life model for this whole scene is a four-story building. Boss Chen replicated it completely, with each corridor representing a floor." Guo Miao looked at the worn, stained walls: "He even kept the numbers and aged them deliberately, not missing a single tiny detail. This isn't just OCD anymore."
"Yeah, I feel the same way. When we build haunted houses, it's to scare visitors. But everything Boss Chen does feels like he's carving the scene as if it's a religion—every detail, those blood-red words on the walls—it's almost pathological." Song An's anger faded, and fear began to take root: "Walking through here, seeing countless blood-red words, it's enough to make our scalps tingle. I can't imagine how he wrote those sentences one by one."
"Those blood-red words vary in age. Some are recent, others look years old." Guo Miao felt a chill too. An image formed in his mind—late at night, the haunted house owner alone, holding a bucket of red paint, his face twisted, in a hysterical state, scrawling those "cruel" words on the walls.
"Before we entered, I heard Boss Chen say this haunted house has been running for five or six years. Could it be that his parents started building this scene back then?"
"Spending five years building something like this—what's their goal?" As someone in the same business, Guo Miao knew the time and effort required: "When we were at the entrance of the Third Ward, we lifted a bed board and saw that Boss Chen had even added special effects to places visitors would never notice. That's abnormal."
"Wait, the name 'Third Ward' sounds familiar." Song An pulled out his phone and searched online. The results made his face pale: "Boss, there really is a Third Ward in Hanjiang! Mental patients committing crimes, involving murder and imprisonment. Just a few days ago, the police issued a warrant for a former patient there!"
"Everything Boss Chen said was true?" Guo Miao's pupils dilated: "Such an important detail, and he just glossed over it casually outside?"
"Online says the Third Ward was abandoned five years ago. His haunted house started operating about five or six years ago too!" Song An compared the timelines and found they matched perfectly.
"Damn!" As if struck by a sudden thought, Guo Miao pressed: "Check carefully. See if the police warrant mentions anything related to Boss Chen—similar height, weight, clothing style, etc."
"Boss, are you suspecting Boss Chen was once a patient at the Third Ward?"
"Would a normal person spend five or six years recreating a hospital like this? Every detail so realistic—only someone who lived there long-term could pull it off!" The more Guo Miao thought, the more terrifying it became: "Boss Chen cleared Tian Teng Hospital with a heart rate below 100 the whole time. How could someone like that be normal?!"
"Should we just leave and not continue?"
"Leaving now might mean we're targeted later."
"Why?"
"The Third Ward scene isn't open to the public. Boss Chen said it's not finished yet. Looking back, that was probably an excuse." Guo Miao felt like killing Han Qiuming: "There's likely a big secret hidden here."
Song An noticed Guo Miao's grave expression and whispered, "What secret?"
"Before we came, I asked the New World Park manager. He mentioned offhand that Boss Chen's parents went missing mysteriously half a year ago, with no clues left behind." Guo Miao stared at the corridor's mad, blood-red words, feeling a chill in his heart.
"Missing?" Song An's shocked expression slowly froze. As if a sudden realization hit him, his eyes flew wide open.