The church door was open, light spilling out from within.
Shen Du walked to the entrance and looked inside. Candles were lit inside—many candles—illuminating the church interior brightly. Several people sat on the pews, their backs to him. He counted: six people. Adding himself, that made seven.
Surviving Actors: Seven.
Shen Du stood at the doorway, not immediately entering. Those inside seemed to sense his presence; two of them turned to look. One was a young man, probably in his twenties, wearing athletic wear, his face bearing some injuries. The other was a middle-aged woman in professional attire, but her clothes were dirty, as if she'd taken a fall.
The others gradually turned as well. Three men, three women, plus him at the door—exactly seven. Each looked exhausted, faces marked by fear and wariness.
"Newcomer?" asked a bespectacled man who appeared to be in his thirties, scholarly but with glasses cracked and held together by tape.
Shen Du nodded and walked in. The church was warm, the candlelight dispelling some of the chill brought by the fog. He walked to the front and took an empty seat. The others scrutinized him, their gazes assessing, curious, and in some cases, hostile.
"Where are you from?" the young man in athletic wear asked.
"Room 304," Shen Du said.
A few exchanged glances.
"I'm from 201," the bespectacled man said. "Call me Chen Ming. I've been here for three days."
"Three days?" Shen Du looked at him.
Chen Ming adjusted his glasses. "Yes, three days. This is the 'Infinite Corridor.' One scene after another, like movies. You have to act according to the script; only after completing a scene can you move to the next. Mess up, and you die."
Shen Du recalled the notebook's words: "Death Fragment," "rewrite a death outcome."
"You all have scripts?" he asked.
"Yes," a woman with short hair answered. She looked around twenty-five or twenty-six, capable. "Everyone does, different contents. Mine is 'Hospital Horror.' Chen Ming's is 'Library Ghost Story.'"
"Mine is also an apartment," the athletic young man said, "but a different room number—205. My script is 'Midnight Serenade.'"
Shen Du looked at the others. The middle-aged woman said hers was "Subway Phantom." A boy who looked like a high school student said his was "Seven Mysteries of the School." Another man who appeared to be an office worker said his was "Elevator Trap."
"And you?" Chen Ming asked Shen Du. "What's your script?"
"Midnight Call," Shen Du said. "And a woman, Mei. She wants me to return the ring."
At the mention of "ring," several faces changed.
"You also encountered a 'return' plotline?" the high school boy asked nervously.
"Also?" Shen Du seized the keyword.
Chen Ming sighed, taking off his glasses to wipe them. "We've all encountered similar things. In my script, a little girl wants me to find her doll. The doll is in my room, but I don't dare return it because returning it might trigger something worse."
"Mine too," the short-haired woman said. "In the subway, an old man wants me to find his walking stick. The stick is on a seat, but the script hint says, 'Do not return lost items.'"
"So none of you returned the items?" Shen Du asked.
They nodded.
"But the script requires returning them," the athletic young man said. "What happens if we don't? The script doesn't say. But there must be a penalty. In my 'Midnight Serenade,' if I don't sing the song as required by the script, something... appears in the room."
"I sang," the high school boy said quietly. "After I finished, the shadow in the room disappeared. But I think... it will come back."
Shen Du fell silent. In his script, Mei wanted him to return the ring. But he had that slip of paper with the hint: "Don't trust the tears." Mei was crying bloody tears, demanding the ring's return. Could she be trusted?
"Do you know about 'Death Fragments'?" he asked.
Everyone's expression turned grave.
"Yes," Chen Ming said. "Everyone should have one. It's a lifeline, usable only once. I've already used mine."
"Used it?" Shen Du looked at him.
Chen Ming pulled down his collar, revealing a vicious scar on his neck, as if he'd been strangled by something. "In the library, a bookshelf collapsed. I was pinned underneath, my neck caught. When I was about to die, the fragment activated. I survived. But the fragment disappeared."
"I used mine too," the middle-aged woman said, rolling up her sleeve to show a large burn scar on her arm. "The subway caught fire. I used the fragment to escape."
The others nodded one by one. Apart from Shen Du and the office worker, everyone else had used their fragments.
"I haven't used mine yet," the office worker said. His name was Li Wei, appearing to be in his forties, steady. "My script is 'Elevator Trap.' Still in the first stage, haven't reached a life-or-death moment yet."
Shen Du touched the slip in his pocket. His fragment was also unused.
"Do you know what this place really is?" he asked.
Chen Ming shook his head. "No. Woke up in my room, had a script, had to act it out. Finish one scene, move to the next. The settings change, but the core is always horror stories. We speculate this is a 'horror film set.' We are actors, performing various horror films. Perform well, maybe we can leave. Perform poorly, we die."
"Has anyone ever left?" Shen Du asked.
Silence.
"In the three days I've been here, I've seen eleven people," Chen Ming said slowly. "Now only seven remain. Those four... all died. One girl, her script was 'The Me in the Mirror.' She didn't follow the script and was dragged into the mirror. Never came out. One older man, his script was 'Echoes in the Basement.' He got lost in the basement. When we found him, he was... insane. Died bashing his head against a wall."
Silence filled the church, only the crackling of burning candles audible.
"We gather here because we've found that before midnight, the church is safe," the short-haired woman said. Her name was Wang Lin. "Those 'things' in the fog won't enter. We can exchange information, discuss strategies."
"What about after midnight?" Shen Du asked.
"After midnight, we must return to our own rooms," Li Wei said. "Otherwise, something terrible happens. I tried it once, almost died outside."
Shen Du recalled the notebook's hint: "Before midnight, leaving the room is safe. After midnight, do not open the door."
"Do your scripts all have time limits?" he asked.
"Yes," the high school boy said. "My 'Seven Mysteries of the School' must be completed within seven days. It's already the fifth day; I have two left."
"My 'Midnight Serenade' requires singing a song every night for seven consecutive nights," the athletic young man said. "Tonight is the third night."
"My 'Library Ghost Story' is to find three specified books," Chen Ming said. "Found two, still no clue about the third."
Each had their own script, their own tasks, their own time limits.
"What happens after completing all tasks?" Shen Du asked.
"Don't know," Chen Ming said. "But we all guess that completing all tasks might allow us to leave here. Or enter the next layer of scenes. Anyway, it's better than waiting to die."
Shen Du thought for a moment, then took out the group photo. "Have any of you seen this person?"
They passed the photo around, all shaking their heads.
"This woman is Mei," Shen Du said. "My script involves her. She had a relationship with a man named Lin. He gave her a ring, promised to return, but disappeared. Mei became pregnant and committed suicide. Now her ghost wants me to return the ring."
"A classic vengeful spirit story," Wang Lin said. "The key might be that man. Where is Lin? If we find Lin, perhaps we can resolve Mei's resentment."
"But Lin might be long dead, or simply not in this scene," Li Wei said. "Our scenes are independent. How do you go to another scene to find someone?"
"There might be a way," Chen Ming said. "I've noticed connections between all the scenes. For example, my library has books about the subway. Wang Lin's subway station has advertisements for the library. These scenes might share the same world."
Shen Du recalled the address mentioned in Mei's diary. The address Lin gave her was fake, but perhaps in this "Infinite Corridor," that address existed?
"I need to find clues about Lin," he said. "Mei's diary mentions an address but doesn't specify. Maybe there are clues in other scenes."
"We can help each other," Chen Ming suggested. "My library has city address directories; maybe we can find clues. Your apartment might have information about the library. We exchange information, assist each other in completing tasks."
The others nodded in agreement. It was the only way forward for now.
"But how do we exchange?" the high school boy asked. "After we leave the church, we return to our own scenes. How do we contact each other?"
"With this," Wang Lin said, pulling a small object from her pocket—an old-fashioned pager. "I found it in my subway station. Tested it; it works for calling each other within the church's range. Outside, it fails. But we can agree on a time, meet here at the church every day at this time."
"Does the church appear every day?" Shen Du asked.
"Not necessarily," Li Wei said. "I've seen the church disappear, turn into another building. But most of the time, the church is here. Probably a safe house-type setting."
Shen Du checked his watch: 8:20 p.m. Over three hours until midnight.
"I need to go back," he said. "My script hint says not to open the door after midnight. I have to return to my room before then."
The others also indicated they needed to return. Midnight was approaching; they had to get back to their own "sets."
"Same time tomorrow, meet here again," Chen Ming said. "We'll exchange found clues. Remember, survival comes first. Tasks can be done slowly; you only have one life."
Shen Du nodded, noting the pager's frequency on a slip of paper Wang Lin gave him. Then he stood up and left the church.
The fog remained but seemed thinner. He could make out the outline of the apartment building in the distance. He walked quickly back. The figures in the fog had dwindled, only one remaining, following him from afar. Was it Mei? He didn't dare look back, just quickened his pace.
Back at the apartment building, lights were on inside the glass door. He pushed it open and hurried upstairs. The stairwell was quiet, only his footsteps. Back on the third floor, he walked to Room 304, took out his key, and unlocked the door.
The door opened. The room was lit by the red lamp. He entered, locked the door behind him, and braced it with the chair.
He leaned against the door, catching his breath. The meeting at the church had given him some information, but it also raised more questions. Seven actors, seven scenes, interconnected yet independent. Death Fragments usable only once. Tasks must be completed, or you die.
He walked to the window and looked out. In the fog, the white figure stood under a streetlamp, looking up at his window. It was Mei, in her white dress, holding that old-fashioned telephone.
She stood there, motionless, like a statue.
Shen Du drew the curtains, blocking her view. He walked to the sofa and sat down, taking out the notebook and opening to the last page. The surviving actor count was still seven. Exploration progress had changed to forty-five percent, a slight increase—likely because he'd discovered the church and the other actors.
Act Two script to be issued at midnight. Now, just over an hour until midnight.
He had nothing to do but wait. Wait for the script, wait for the next scene.
He took out the photo of Mei and Lin, studying it carefully. Mei's smile was gentle, her eyes overflowing with happiness. But the man's face was burned away, leaving a black hole. How deep must the hatred have been to burn away a lover's face?
Shen Du put the photo away and lay down on the sofa. He needed rest but couldn't sleep. His mind was full of questions: Was Mei's story complete? Who was Lin really? Should he return the ring or not? Could the other actors be trusted? When should he use the Death Fragment?
Time ticked by. The watch hands moved toward 11:50, 11:55...
11:59.
The room suddenly turned cold. Not a drop in temperature, but a chilling, bone-deep cold. The red lamp began to flicker, bright then dim.
Shen Du sat up, staring at the black notebook on the coffee table.
The notebook was glowing, brighter and brighter. Then, it opened on its own.
Turned to a new page.
On the paper, writing slowly appeared, as if an invisible pen were writing. Red characters, like blood under the light.
"Act Two: Reflection in the Mirror."
"Setting: Apartment Bathroom."
"Time: Midnight Sharp."
"Characters: Shen Du (Male Lead), Mei (Female Lead)."
"Plot: Shen Du sees Mei's reflection in the bathroom mirror. Mei requests Shen Du to return the ring. Shen Du can choose to return or not return. The choice will lead to different outcomes."
"Note: This is a key scene. Choices will affect subsequent plot progression."
"Hint: The mirror does not lie, but it conceals the truth."
"Good luck, Actor Shen Du."
The writing finished appearing, settling on the paper. From the direction of the bathroom came the sound of dripping water—drip, drip—as if a faucet wasn't fully closed.
Shen Du looked toward the bathroom door.
It was closed, but a stark white light seeped from under the gap.