Transtor: der Transtions
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The woman in the gsam couldn’t sit still any longer. She stood up and walked towards the door.
"gsam sister," the woman in pajamas looked terrified. There was no way she would dare to stay in the room alone. "Where are you going?"
She immediately jumped out of bed, not even putting on shoes, standing barefoot on the cold, icy t floor, looking at her with pitiful eyes.
"I’m just going to ask if anyone else noticed anything unusual," the gsam reteo fort her. "Don't worry, I’ll be right back."
The Pajama girl seemed afraid of the quiet and dim hallway. After a moment of hesitation, she said, "Then, sister, please hurry back. I'm scared by myself."
"Alright, I promise."
After taking a deep breath, the gsam woman slowly opehe door, but only by a tiny crack.
The hallway was eerily quiet. If she didn’t know people were staying in the nearby rooms, she would have thought only she and the Pajama girl were here.
Not notig anything strange, she stepped out of the room, quickly closing the door behind her.
Indeed, she had no iion of ing back.
Not only that, she deliberately left the door of Room 407 slightly ajar.
Firstly, if something dangerous occurred, she could immediately retreat.
Sedly, if she mao secure safety in another room, the unlocked Room 407 would bee the perfect target for the ghost.
She had made up her mind: her destination was Room 404.
The people in Room 405 had already heard strange scraping noises. Whatever those noises signified, she wasn’t willing to take the risk.
Especially sihe two men inside didn’t seem trustworthy.
The gsam woman had seen her share of things and ast the age of judging people by appearances, so the fake ies of the man in the suit didn’t fool her.
In nightmares, it wasn’t that there were no good people—just that they died faster and more miserably.
She also avoided Room 406 because there were too many newers.
Too many newers meant too many uable factors, and one mistake could spell disaster for her.
She didn’t like newers, just like most seasoned pyers.
However, she had a better opinion of Jiang g and the fat guy, especially Jiang g.
He seemed a bit slow and dazed.
To be ho, she couldn’t quite figure him out.
She had seen fools and clueless people in nightmares before, but it was rare to see someone like Jiang g thrive, especially since he wasn’t a novice.
The repeated nightmare tasks had taught her ohing: this pce was full of hidden talents, and there were plenty of people pretending to be weak while actually being very dangerous.
The distaween the rooms wasn’t far, but she walked cautiously, afraid that any noise she made might disturb something lurking in the dark.
She stayed alert the eime, her peripheral vision never rexing.
Closer.
Closer.
She stared quietly at the door ahead, thinking about what excuse she could use to get them to open the door a her stay the night.
The people inside weren’t stupid, so she couldn’t tell them that someone in her room heard scraping noises. Otherwise, who would let her in?
She stopped, thinking nervously.
Hmm? Suddenly, she froze. It was already te at night, and the hallway lights had long since go. How was she seeing anything?
She looked around, quickly finding the source of the light.
It was ing from a slightly ajar door up ahead, where a faint glow was seeping through the crack.
Her pupils trembled, and her gaze slowly rose until she saw the room number above.
407.
407!!
She shivered violently, as if an ib had exploded in her chest.
How could it be 407?
Her own room?
She had just left 407, and wheurned her head, everything behind her was shrouded in darkness, as if veiled in an imperable mist.
The 407 room she had just left had disappeared.
Indeed!
The ones who don’t hear the scraping are the ghost's targets!
The ghost was ing for her.
The overwhelmiriggered an intense survival instinct within her. She khat it wasn’t over yet, and she still had a ce.
If she pyed her cards right, she could survive.
Her top priority was determining if this was really the inal 407 room, or more specifically, whether the person waiting inside was the Pajama girl or the ghost.
The ghost's abilities couldn’t be expined by sce or basic logic.
So, this might truly be the real Room 407.
It might be her only way out.
She decided to take the gamble.
Perhaps the ghost wanted her to think it wasn’t the real Room 407, making her miss her ce at survival.
Having thought it through, she immediately dashed towards 407. As she moved, the areas behihat had been illuminated were quickly swallowed by darkness.
As if they had never existed.
"Knock, knock, knock!"
She knocked on the door of Room 407 but didn’t immediately push it open.
"Who?" a terrified female voice called out. "Who's knog?"
It was the Pajama girl’s voice. It sounded real.
It was full of fear, ay, as if she might die ht at any moment.
"It's me!" the gsam woman responded quickly. "Open the door!"
After saying that, she gnced back again. The darkness behind her was creeping closer, and it wouldn’t take long to reach her.
She gritted her teeth, knowing there might not be any "ter."
If she was lucky, by tomorrow, they would find her retively intact corpse.
Hers.
"Hurry!" She started banging on the door. "Let me in!"
Ihe Pajama girl seemed even more terrified by her frantie, and started g, mumbling, "Who are you? The door's not locked, why ’t you e in? Are you the ghost?" She was begging not to be killed.
Her sobbing itiful as it could get.
The gsam woman could evehe bed creaking uhe Pajama girl’s trembling.
The gsam woman said, "It’s really me. I’m the sister who just left. Please believe me." She paused. "I’m ing in."
"Sniff, sniff..."
The g inside tinued, a sobbing so restraihat she could imagihe Pajama girl’s helpless expression.
It was so real, it didn’t seem fake at all.
As the gsam oke, she slowly backed away, then turned and ran.
Oddly, the moment she ran, the g inside suddenly stopped.
The sliver of light ing from the slightly open door vanished as well.
Instead, she heard a "thump, thump, thump," like something crawling on all fours out of the door disguised as 407.
It definitely wasn’t the Pajama girl.
The act had been ving, but the gsam woman had spotted the fw. The ghost, pretending to be the Pajama girl, had said, “The door's not locked, why ’t you e in? Are you the ghost?”
She had closed the door herself—how could the Pajama girl have known?
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