009 Back-to-Back Ghost Encounter

Night had fallen by the time I returned to my dormitory and lay down on my bed. Recalling the day's events, I felt truly fortunate to be alive. First, I was followed by the Heartless Man in the library, and Zhang Yisheng rescued me. Then, in the small grove, that ghostly entity appeared—once again, the deck of cards saved my life. I knew I couldn't rely on luck to survive every time. I had to grow stronger on my own, only then could I protect those I love and those who love me.

I sent a message to Chen Hao, hoping he could spare some time tomorrow to teach me a bit of Taekwondo—at the very least, some means to defend myself. As for supernatural beings, physical skills might be useless, but against corporeal threats, hard training still counted for something.

After discussing today’s lessons with Third Brother, who slept in the bunk below me, I borrowed his notes and began to review and preview the material. Some might say I was too calm, that after everything I'd been through, I still had the mind to study. But this wasn't a movie or a novel, and I wasn't some omnipotent protagonist.

Even if, through this haunting, I became a savior, what happened after it all ended? Wouldn't I still have to attend classes, take exams, and graduate? Such a vast social system would not change because of a few supernatural events. I still had to fulfill my role as a student, which meant studying—of course, as long as I remained safe.

After an hour or so catching up on the two classes I'd missed, my eyelids grew heavy, and exhaustion crept in. I piled my books and desk at my feet, pulled up the blanket, and prepared to sleep.

The timing was perfect—eleven o’clock sharp—the dormitory lights went out. Darkness enveloped the room. Third Fatty, who slept below me, put away his book and got ready for bed.

Suddenly, from across the room, Second Brother cursed, “Damn it! My triple kill!” The power cut had turned off his desktop mid-game. Angrily, with nowhere to vent, he yelled at Eldest Brother on the balcony, “It’s late, stop talking on the phone and go to sleep already!”

Eldest Brother shot him a glare and continued his call, not speaking too loudly, so it didn’t disturb me.

Time ticked by, and I gradually drifted into sleep. In that twilight between wakefulness and dreams, I thought I heard a sound from beneath my bed.

“Back to back…”

The phrase instantly reminded me of a ghost story I once read. Xiao Ming and Xiao Wang were inseparable friends. One day, Xiao Wang vanished, and Xiao Ming searched for days without success. Even after reporting to the police, there was no trace. Xiao Ming couldn’t sleep, haunted by whispers every night. One sleepless night, he strained to listen and realized a voice was endlessly repeating, "Back to back."

It was nighttime, and being alone, Xiao Ming was terrified and hid under his covers. The next day, the police came. Under Xiao Ming’s bed, they found Xiao Wang’s long-dead body, nailed by the murderer to the underside of the bed, lying exactly back to back with Xiao Ming—for three whole days.

The memory sent a chill through me. Was I experiencing something similar? I dared not jump to conclusions; after what I’d recently gone through, I no longer clung to my old disbelief in spirits. “Third Brother,” I nudged the Fatty below. He slept right beside me; having him check with me should be safe—or so I hoped.

He woke up, grumbling, rubbing his eyes. “What is it now, Fourth?”

“It’s late, go to sleep,” he said, rolling over and tucking himself in.

“Wait.” I stopped him. “Did you hear anything?”

“What sound? Go to sleep!” He paid no attention to me and dozed off again.

But I could still hear those three words. “Back to back.” So clear, so close—right beneath our beds. But under our beds were just cabinets.

The beds in our dorms had metal cabinets with four drawers beneath them, and the remaining gap could barely fit a badminton racket—how could anything possibly…

In the end, curiosity won over reason. I crept out of bed, climbed down the ladder, slipped on my slippers as quietly as I could so as not to wake Second Brother and Third Brother. Eldest was still talking on the balcony, seemingly oblivious.

I turned up my phone’s brightness, held it in my right hand, steadying myself with my left as I leaned toward the space under the bed. My phone’s beam revealed nothing unusual—just empty space. I relaxed, patting my chest. "It’s just my imagination," I told myself and started climbing back up.

“Wait, something’s wrong!”

“Where’s the cabinet? Where’s the cabinet under the bed?”

“How can it be empty?”

A chill crawled up my spine; even though it was summer, I shivered.

My hands trembling, I shone the light under the bed again—and a pair of hands seized my shoulders, dragging me beneath. A rotting face pressed against mine, its red eyeballs crawling with worms. I couldn’t bear it; my fist shot out.

I don’t know where the courage came from—maybe the recent hauntings had hardened me—but I wasn’t afraid. I resisted.

But then, a searing pain shot up my arm. I blinked, and I was back on my bed, my knuckles reddened from striking the iron bedrail. The noise woke Third Fatty below. Rubbing his eyes, he muttered, “What are you doing? Go to sleep.”

“Did you hear anything?” I blurted out.

“No! Sleep!” He rolled over and wrapped himself in his quilt.

“Back to back…”

I could still hear the voice, clear as day.

“Was that a dream?” What just happened couldn’t be explained. I crawled down again and leaned under the bed. Once more, hands grabbed my shoulders and dragged me down, that rotten face pressed to mine, red eyes teeming with worms. Without thinking, I punched—and pain shot through my hand, forcing my eyes shut.

When I opened them, I was back in bed. “What is going on?” I muttered. “Again?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Third Fatty stretched lazily.

“Why did I say ‘again’?” I murmured to myself. “Did you hear anything?” I asked aloud.

“No! Sleep!” Third Fatty wrapped himself up and drifted off.

Now I seemed to understand. If I peered under the bed, I’d be dragged beneath and the cycle would repeat—an endless loop, like a ghostly labyrinth.

And it was happening here, in the boys’ dormitory, of all places! With all the masculine energy, how could a ghost even get in?

A dizzy spell overcame me, and suddenly I blacked out. When I came to, I was back in bed, eyes open but body paralyzed. I could sense every part of myself, but I couldn’t move—a crushing weight seemed to pin me down.

It was just like… sleep paralysis. Like a ghost pressing down on me.

“Damn,” I cursed under my breath, “will this ever end?”

Eldest was still out on the balcony, talking on the phone. Everything in the room seemed normal—except for me, trapped in this paralysis.

Before my very eyes, a white mist slowly coalesced at my bedside, forming into the shape of a woman dressed in white. Her hair veiled her face, but a single blood-red eye peered out from within the tangled strands, fixing on me as she drew closer, step by step.

“Damn it, don’t come any closer! Go away!” I tried to shout, but no sound came out. I desperately tried to catch Eldest’s attention with frantic glances, but he couldn’t hear me—who could hear my silent pleas?

The ghostly woman climbed onto my bed, withdrawing a blood-dripping dagger from behind her back.

God, is she here to kill me?

Was I really going to die here in the dorm, slain by this ghost while my three roommates remained oblivious? No! I couldn’t die—I hadn’t lived enough yet!

The deck of cards in my pocket shot out, a streak of black light slicing through the air. The ghost let out a shriek—an animal’s death wail—before scattering into nothingness.

The scream jolted both Second and Third Brother from their sleep, and even Eldest hurried in from the balcony, startled.

“What happened?”

We all stared at each other in bewildered silence. I had no idea how to explain, and they were all just mystified by the anguished scream of a woman in our dorm room at night…