3:33 A.M.
Jin Qiang woke up on his bed….. or what seemed like one, a thin, crumpled mattress shoved into the corner of his room.
His hoodie was soaked with cold sweat... and something like… mud?
But before he could check, pain and distaste ran through his senses all at once.
His mouth tasted like rust.
His head throbbed.
And his limbs screamed in protest with every twitch, like he had run a marathon and got hit by a truck.
Jin Qiang sat up slowly, groaning, and noticed that he still had his shoes on.
The room was dark, lit only by the gray dawn leaking in through half-drawn curtains, fluttering in the breeze from a cracked window.
Everything looked washed-out, like someone had slapped a horror movie filter over reality.
And the absence of noise didn't really help either.
It was almost too quiet…
The silence pressed down on him like a second blanket, and it was suffocating.
His heart thudded in a slow, cold rhythm as memories from last night slithered back in.
(The tunnel.)
(The footsteps.)
(The static.)
(That smile.)
(The glitching screen... and the... )
(Oh god….)
(The viewers!!!)
Jin's eyes darted around the room, searching for his phone.
When he glanced at his door, he saw his backpack half-zipped, and next to it, his body cam buzzing softly on the floor like it was possessed.
Ding!
His phone suddenly rang as if it knew that he was looking for it.
It was near his feet, almost leaning off the thin mattress to the floor.
When he grabbed it.
-Ssshhkkk-
(Why is it sticky?)
23% battery… and still streaming from a camera angle that was from the body cam that was across him on the floor.
He ended the stream and noticed he had a lot of notifications.
He slid down on the notifications, and chaos spilled out like a digital avalanche.
2,367 unread chat messages.
#TunnelDeathStream trending in 3 provinces.
DMs from huge paranormal channels.
Followers: +1,678.
"…What the hell…" he croaked. His throat felt like he had eaten gravel.
He tossed the phone down and stumbled his way to the sink cause he removed his dirty shoes.
He splashed his face with cold water and gripped the edge of the counter as he tried to remember how he got home.
...
There was…
Nothing.
No memory of taking any transportation back home.
No subway.
No taxi.
Not even a walk.
Just…
Falling.
Screaming.
Static.
And then, waking up.
"I must've blacked out." He muttered to himself when a sound at his door caught his attention.
Knock knock knock.
He flinched so hard he almost elbowed the mirror off the wall. He staggered to the door and opened it slightly, enough for him to take a peek and check.
A delivery guy stood there with a box under one arm and a deadpan look.
"Package for… GhostQiang." The delivery guy said, his face not showing any signs of change, and with a bored tone.
"Huh?" Jin reacted confused, but fully opened the door this time.
"You signin' or not?" the guy said, shoving the screen in his face.
"I didn't order anything."
"Not my problem. Just sign."
Jin hesitated but scribbled his name on the screen.
Then the delivery guy shoved the box into his arms and walked off without another word.
He shut the door and placed the box on his desk.
The package was plain, and it had no return address.
Just a sleek black sticker on the top that says:
"Congratulations on your first real haunt. — 🎥 GH.ST Network"
"…What the hell is GH.ST?"
He peeled it open and inside was, a matte-black hoodie with a glitching skull logo. A brand-new 4K bodycam. A sleek, expensive-looking new phone.
He picked up the new phone, and it vibrated in his hand the moment he picked it up.
[GH.ST SYSTEM BOOTING…]
Welcome, GhostQiang.
Your stream is trending in the UnderNet.
System Level: Tier 0
Survival Rate: 1%
Next mission starts in: 19:59:59
"What the F—!!!"
He dropped the phone like it burned him and slammed the box shut.
But it was already too late.
Both his old phone on the bed and the new one inside the box, buzzed at the same time, it was odd and creepy enough for him to know that he shouldn't look at any of them.
But then, his laptop beside the package turned on…
By itself.
And it showed him his live stream statistics from last night.
The follower count on his streaming app profile had spiked overnight.
Over four thousand new followers, most with names that made his skin crawl.
And the comments…
[👁@WindowLicker22: Do you always scream like that?]
[🩸@BrokenTVHead: My new favorite streamer! Hope you last longer than the last one.]
[💀@CursedSubscriber: You're ours now.HEHE]
[📹@RealGhostFanboy: Yooo ~ you made it!! Can't wait for tonight. Don't die, lol.]
Jin slammed his laptop shut and unplugged everything. He even yanked the switched-off ring light out of the wall and started pacing the room
"Okay. Okay. This is a prank. An ARG or some viral marketing BS. Right?"
The ceiling bulb then flickered, as if it answered him.
"Nope. Fck this. Fck that. I'm out. I'm done." He said as he dove into his mattress and yanked the blanket over his head.
"Nope. Not doing that again. I'll go back to gaming streams, mukbang or whatever… I'll eat ramen for twelve hours—"
Ping.
Both phones had a new notification, and Jin tried to ignore it.
Until he heard it.
The AI voice of a young woman he had set up for donations.
[[Donation received: ¥888]]
[[Message: "See you at the playground, GhostQiang. :)"]]
"....…."
His mouth went dry as he slowly reached for his old phone with shaky hands.
But before he could unlock it, his bank app opened by itself, and there it was…
The ¥888 was real and had already been deposited by an unknown sender.
While he was still trying to understand the situation, his streaming app opened, and what he saw just added to his confusion and horror.
🆕New Event Updated Automatically: "👻 LIVE: Playground of the Forgotten (Starts in 20h)"
It was posted from his account.
Even though he hadn't touched a thing.
Comments then started to pour in….
[🍭死小孩: We're excited!]
[🧸BrokenToy33: I miss my head.]
[☠️XiaoHei: Don't be late. You're trending now. You're one of us.]
Jin sat up in bed, his back pressed to the wall, while clutching the blanket around him like a shield.
He was reading the comments when his phone screen suddenly changed.
The wallpaper twisted and turned black.
Blood-red text scrawled across it with static noise.
"SUBSCRIBE….. OR DIE."
"THE FCK!!!!"
Jin screamed, flinging his phone away from him and once again, hiding under the blanket he's been clutching on for a while now.
When.....
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Both phones buzzed again, only this time, it was continuous as messages started to flow.
[👻 XiaoHei: Chill, that one's just for marketing.]
[👻 XiaoHei: But -------, you've ----------------- now.]
[👻 XiaoHei: You ---------- streaming. They ----------------.]
[👻 XiaoHei: I'm ----------------.]
[👻 XiaoHei: I was your -----------, and now ----------------------!]
[👻 XiaoHei: Oh, and welcome to the Dead Channel ~!]
Jin Qiang was an amateur live streamer.
Now, he was a rising star.
The fame he wanted?
He got it.
Hauntingly so…