Bad Game

Wang Yaoan woke up in the teaching building and pushed himself up with a splitting headache - the ground was covered with thin ash, the corners were piled with moldy textbooks and discarded tables and chairs, and the air was filled with the smell of old books, mold, and a faint smell of rust. He was lying in the middle of the hall of the abandoned teaching building. The last fragment of memory still lingers on the noisy drinking party at the class reunion last night, but now there are only empty echoes lingering in my ears. When he stood up staggeringly, holding on to the wall, Weirdness truly broke away from his disguise: Deep in the corridor, a woman in a white dress was leaning on the window sill, flipping through a book. The rustling of the pages mixed with the cold wind filled her bones. It is an old-style tube building from the 1990s. The corridors are narrow and dim, with constant coughing sounds. The walls are mottled and peeling, covered with old newspapers and faded posters, and hung with wax pigeons left behind by residents. When night comes, the coughs turn into women's cries, and the wax begins to ooze blood. The most horrifying thing is the rules of the trial ground: the previous scenes were fragmented and reorganized like a kaleidoscope. One second, he was in the classroom facing the pursuit of the female spy, and the next second he was standing in the inn facing different guests. When cold sweat soaked his shirt, Wang Yaoan finally realized: This was not a dream, but a death game in which life was at stake. The limited escape time is running backwards crazily on the electronic clock on the wall, and every beat of the scarlet numbers is like the roar of a death knell. He must find a way out in this soul-devouring maze, among the ghosts and shadows - but when all exits lead to a deeper hell, is the hope of survival hidden behind a dangerous situation?