Chapter 22: The Haunted House, Pinned Down on the Bed

In the end, everyone decided to switch activities and head for the haunted house escape room—“Blood Doll.”

Niu Yifeng excitedly raised his phone, his eyes blazing with anticipation. “Damn, the internet says this is the upgraded haunted house—super realistic! The NPCs chase you non-stop and interact with you!”

The guys grew increasingly thrilled, bouncing with excitement. “For real? I want to play this one! Let’s do it!”

Qin Yichi showed little reaction, only glancing lazily at Qiao Zhen, his tone languid, “Are you afraid of ghosts?”

It seemed that no matter what the activity was, he would always look at Qiao Zhen and ask her first.

Qiao Zhen’s eyes brimmed with both anticipation and nervousness. After a moment’s serious thought, she shook her head. “If you’re all with me, I’m not afraid.”

She had never been to a haunted house before, but she had seen clips from horror movies and thought she could handle it. She was, after all, a staunch materialist.

There were no ghosts in the world, just staff in costume—yes, all fake.

So, she wanted to try something new, something she hadn’t played before. She shouldn’t… be afraid… should she?

They lined up at the entrance. A group came fleeing out of the haunted house, faces pale, legs giving way as they collapsed to the ground, gulping fresh air.

Two girls broke down in tears then and there. “Help, sob sob, my legs are jelly!”

A strong, muscular guy with tattooed arms came bolting out, trembling, his voice quaking, “Honey, that decapitated rag doll scared me to death, sob…”

Beside him stood a beauty in a cheongsam.

She was slender and graceful, exuding an elegant, intellectual aura—like someone stepped out of a painting. She looked entirely calm, her tone indulgent yet disdainful. “You’re utterly useless!”

The muscle man’s eyes reddened, burying his head in her arms. “Honey, I’m scared…”

The cheongsam beauty sighed helplessly, patting his shoulder and gently embracing him. “Alright, be good. Don’t be afraid, I’ll protect you.”

Qiao Zhen stared, mouth agape, frozen in place for a long moment.

Was it really that terrifying?

She thought she probably, maybe, possibly, wouldn’t be scared.

But the moment Qiao Zhen stepped inside, a wave of regret washed over her.

The haunted house was pitch black—so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.

“Let me out—” A sinister, chilling laughter echoed from somewhere far away, faint yet bone-chilling.

This was not mere darkness, but darkness streaked with eerie lights, as if plunging into an abyss, countless pairs of eyes watching from behind.

Qiao Zhen had never experienced anything like this. Her pupils contracted, goosebumps rose all over, and she stood bewildered, unable to move.

Bad memories surged forth.

When she was seven, her grandmother would lock her in the little dark room over trivial things.

The dark room reeked faintly, and it seemed bugs would sometimes land on her face. The cramped space was suffocating and oppressive.

Little Qiao Zhen cried until she was breathless, pounding the door. “Sob… let me out… Grandma, I don’t want this!”

“I want my mom, I want to find my mom…”

She couldn’t breathe, squatting on the floor, covering her ears, always feeling that someone was watching her from behind, ready to eat her.

Every minute and second was sheer torment.

It was as if a cold, ruthless hand was smothering her mouth and nose, forbidding her to speak.

She screamed silently, pleaded silently.

Only when she had no strength left to cry was she finally let out.

Out