After graduation, he'd found a sales job, ordered around all day by a menopausal female boss.
She'd belittled him in front of everyone, looking at him as if he were a rat in a gutter.
Meeting Tammy had been the most beautiful accident of his life. Yet more than once, his immaturity and spinelessness had hurt her.
If he could have a second chance, he would give anything.
A pair of warm hands covered his wound.
The bleeding slowed instantly, and the pain receded significantly.
Lynn had appeared beside him at some point. She looked solid and tangible—not like a ghost at all.
"You'll be fine. The wound isn't deep." Lynn spoke softly. "The house won't let you die so quickly—that would be boring. It likes to play games with people."
True enough, the pain soon faded, and the wound seemed to have healed.
The world inside this house existed beyond reality—nothing here could be explained by ordinary logic.
"Is there really no way out?" Luke sat up with Lynn's help.
"When you remember what you did to wrong me, I'll tell you how to get out."
"Are you crazy? What did I ever do to you?" Luke was growing irritated by her repeated accusations.
V
Lynn tilted her head and studied him for a few seconds, then—just as before—she sank back into the wallpaper. No amount of calling could bring her back.
Furious, Luke hurled wine bottles at the wall. Shards littered the floor, reflecting the lights, glittering like diamonds.
He racked his brain but couldn't think of a single time he'd ever offended Lynn.
In college, guys only noticed the beautiful, outstanding girls. Someone like Lynn—with her ordinary looks—was simply invisible to them.
After a long while, Luke slapped his forehead. He finally remembered!
In their freshman year, for some reason, rumors had spread that Lynn had a crush on him.
At the time, Luke was infatuated with Serena—he'd never dared confess, and she was the only one in his heart. Learning he'd somehow been linked to an unattractive girl filled him with revulsion and resentment.
Zach, who loved a good prank, suggested he invite Lynn to meet him at the park downtown and then stand her up.
Luke did exactly that: he asked Lynn out, then spent the whole night playing video games in his dorm.
Lynn later dropped out of school. Word was her family had run into trouble—he'd never seen her again.
The incident had quickly faded from his mind, like a pebble tossed into a vast ocean, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
"So I'm supposed to be trapped here forever because of a stupid prank from college? That's just malicious!" Luke shouted.
Whispers filled the room—sighs, sobs, curses, hysterical laughter—waves of sound crashing over him, making his head throb.
Lynn's form gradually materialized. Her pale gray lips parted slightly as she spoke: "You think it was just a prank? Let me tell you what happened next."
That night, Lynn had waited for him in the park until late into the night. Her phone had died.
Her mother, worried, had gone out looking for her. On the way, she was hit by a car and didn't survive.
Wendy had indeed been the cause of Lynn's parents' divorce, but she'd never intended to marry Lynn's father—they'd mocked him as a delusional old man.
Lynn had wanted to ruin Wendy's reputation.
Wendy and her close friend Serena struck preemptively: they stole Lynn's diary and spread the rumor that she had a crush on Luke.
Serena was a skilled writer. She posted a story on the campus forum, using clever prose to create a character who was ugly but had delusions of grandeur about romance—even if Luke hadn't been handsome, she would have been a wishful fool. Anyone could see who it was about.
At the time, Luke had been annoyed by the rumors, but it had never occurred to him that the mastermind behind it all was his goddess, Serena.
Wendy later started dating a handsome guy from the basketball team.
Lynn told that guy about Wendy's affair with her father, and Wendy got dumped.
In her fury, Wendy teamed up with Serena to spread rumors online that Lynn was a prostitute, embellishing the slander to paint her as an ugly, promiscuous woman.
Her reputation was utterly destroyed.
Lynn's father had fallen into destitution, drinking heavily and relying on her to support him by working odd jobs. She could no longer afford to stay in school.
Luke was stunned. He'd never imagined that a mere prank could so easily derail another person's entire life.
Though Lynn's tragedy wasn't his fault alone, he undeniably bore his share of responsibility.
Every mistake you've ever made is like a reef beneath the water's surface, a shadow behind a door—at the moment you casually glance back, it quietly declares: I was here all along. I never left. Like a tick burrowed into the bone.
Luke's knees buckled. He knelt before Lynn.
Half sorrow, half terror.
Lynn gave a bitter smile. "I remember when I'd just arrived here, sitting on the sofa surrounded by gifts, thrilled beyond words. Then your three faces started flashing on the TV, one after another, and that gray-eyed man appeared. Lines of scrolling text flew across his face: Want revenge? Want revenge? Want revenge?
"The house can see into your deepest secrets and amplify your emotions infinitely. I hated for a long time, but eventually I decided my own life mattered more than revenge, and I let it go. But in that moment, it felt like those dark years had come rushing back, and I was burning alive—I wanted all of you dead, right then and there.
"Right then, the text changed to: 'If we eliminate your enemies for you, will you stay here forever?'
"The house can give me everything I want—it can even help me avenge my grievances. Why wouldn't I stay?
"'I will.' I said those three words with the solemnity of wedding vows.
"And then I found myself tangled in those black vines, drawn into the wallpaper.
"Another me appeared in the room. I watched helplessly as the fake Lynn called each of you, luring you into the trap.
"Once you give up the idea of leaving, it consumes you completely—just like it consumed me. You see, it doesn't even mind me telling you all this, because it knows there's only one way out: destroying the house. But destroying the house means suicide. No one dares do that."
Lynn's face dissolved back into the wallpaper, leaving only a sigh.
The sigh carried boundless exhaustion, as if it came from a profoundly weary old woman who had seen everything.
Luke clutched his head and roared, smashing whatever was within reach.
Each object that struck the wall sank into it like a bog, swallowed without a sound.
Even the solid teak floor had gone soft—a single step felt like wading into a mire, every stride an effort.
The massive LCD television flickered on by itself. It wasn't broadcasting TV—it was showing the inside of his own home.
His pretty, petite wife was wearing a colorful apron, humming as she cooked in the kitchen.
A tall, unfamiliar man was helping her.
"Since Luke disappeared, I actually feel kind of relieved," she said, dumping vegetables into the wok. "Is it terrible to think that way?"
"Life goes on. You have every right to choose happiness," the stranger said, his expression tender.
Luke and Tammy had had happy times. Like many couples, the daily grind of married life had chipped away at their love.
He thought she'd become nagging and vulgar; she thought he was irresponsible, coming home from work only to play video games, a grown man who didn't know how to carry his weight.
Perhaps his life truly was a failure.
Working a dead-end job, taking orders from his boss all day long.
Sporadic bursts of ambition, chronic laziness.
Life looping in an endless circle, and he was an ant crawling ceaselessly, never finding an exit.
The gray-eyed, gaunt man appeared on the screen again.
He was capering and dancing, grinning broadly, revealing a mouthful of even white teeth with pointed canines.
Lines of text scrolled across his face: Will you stay? Will you stay? Will you stay?
True—he was a failure. What difference would it make if he got out?
VI
"Luke!" A familiar voice rang out, cleaving through the chaos like a lightning bolt.
Brilliant sunlight poured into the room.
The vanished windows had returned. He saw the broad expanse of clear blue sky he'd missed so dearly.
A familiar figure came into view—Tammy.
She looked haggard, her tangled hair hanging loose, her belly noticeably swollen.
Mottled tree shadows dappled her cheeks. To Luke, she looked radiant with beauty.
On the screen, his wife still smiled charmingly, polished and put-together.
The image flickered, dissolving into static and piercing noise.
The gray-eyed man's face surfaced again, his expression mocking.
Strength flooded back into Luke's body.
None of this was real. Only his wife and unborn child were real.
He had to get out—to reexamine the life he'd never cherished, to start over.
"Tammy! I'm in here!" The cry tore from his throat.
His wife heard him and ran toward him joyfully.
Luke's blood ran cold—he hadn't made a sound! The house had called her!
Don't come! Don't come near! He screamed with everything he had, but no sound reached her ears.
Tammy drew closer and closer. She was about to enter the house.
Clearly, the house was growing impatient.
It had no intention of continuing to play games with Luke. It was going to end things once and for all.
If that was the case, then they would go down together.
He pulled the lighter from his pocket and used the Swiss army knife on his keychain to slash at the wallpaper.
Agony tore through him—a deep gash opened on his arm, blood welling up.
Ignoring the pain, Luke flicked the lighter and set the wallpaper ablaze.
As the wallpaper caught fire, a wall of flame engulfed him in an instant.
Fire licked at his skin. The agony was worse than death. His vision blurred.
The entire house trembled, as though a magnitude-seven earthquake had struck.
Walls and floors flowed like liquid, spinning. Countless hands—white, black, gray-blue—reached out from the walls. Innumerable faces materialized.
Tall and short, thin and heavy, men and women, young and old... countless mouths opened and closed, lips moved, eyes gleamed—among them, Lynn.
Strangely, they all wore expressions of joy.
The hostility that had always shadowed Lynn's brow vanished; her face was serene and at peace. "By burning down the house, you've freed us all. No one has ever dared to do this before. I forgave you long ago. Thank you."
The countless presences drew closer to him.
Their hands were cool and dry. When they touched him, the searing agony of the flames eased instantly.
A layer of translucent, water-like coolness enveloped him, like a vast cocoon, shielding him from the roaring fire all around.
The sensation was like returning to a mother's womb—safe, grounded, lulling him toward sleep.
A giant face appeared in the smoke.
The brown-haired, gaunt man gritted his teeth, his features twisted and hideous.
The flames consumed the face until it shattered into fragments, dissolving into thin wisps of smoke that gradually dissipated.
He spiraled into darkness.
Epilogue
He was roused by his wife's voice.
She seemed to have aged several years, her face drawn and exhausted.
When she saw him wake, she let out a long breath of relief.
He was lying in a hospital bed. His burns covered a significant area, but after emergency treatment, he was out of danger.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He held her tightly in his arms, the words tumbling out.
"Sorry for what?" Tammy looked bewildered, gently stroking his hair.
Unable to reach Luke, his wife had checked his call records and traced his last incoming call to Lynn's number.
Upon investigation, she discovered that Lynn had been missing for six months. Her family had already filed a police report.
The last place she'd been seen was Villa 139, Riverside Drive.
Tammy had called the police, then gone there herself, clinging to a sliver of hope.
Luke reached into his pocket for the set of diamond jewelry, but pulled out only a handful of paper ash that drifted lightly to the floor.
After his discharge, he returned to 139 Riverside Drive.
The house had burned to the ground. Only the framework remained—like a person's skeletal remains, still radiating residual heat.
The setting sun bled across the horizon.
Wind blew through the ruins, murmuring a lament.