That Haunted House

The swollen, deathly pale hands that had just emerged from the lacquer box were now wrapped tightly around her ankle, cold to the touch.

Following the arms, she saw a figure drenched from head to toe, its face hidden by hair like a thick mass of waterweed. It was slowly and continuously “flowing” out of the lacquer box, which was far too small for its body, in defiance of the laws of physics. It lay prone on the icy floor, its head tilted up as it “looked” at her.

Lin Xiao's mind ground to a complete halt. Terror in its purest form clutched at her heart with an icy hand and choked her throat. She couldn't make a sound. All she could do was watch as the being, reeking of death and well water, crawled up her body inch by inch.

Its dripping arms, smeared with pond mud, wrapped around her calves, then her knees, then her thighs... The chill pierced through her thin trousers and straight to the bone.

At last, it stood up completely, face-to-face with her. It was about her height, its wet hair hiding its face, and an intense aura of hatred and emptiness washed over her. Drip, drip. Murky water kept falling from its hair and clothes, gathering into a small puddle on the floor.

Then it raised its ghostly hands and slowly reached for Lin Xiao's slender neck, the gesture laden with a deep, bone-chilling hatred...