Rule Horror: I Clear the Game with Folklore

I’m a haunted-house sleep tester. On my first night in a village-in-the-city, an old radio from thirty years ago started playing by itself. The booklet my grandfather left behind is filled with taboos: Don’t look back at midnight. Never sing along with the piano on the fourth floor. Don’t look at the seventh person in the elevator. Every taboo is a rule that can kill. Using the folk remedies my grandfather taught me, I turned off the radio and broke the first rule. A woman’s voice suddenly came from the radio: “You did the right thing. But the rules have changed. Now it’s your turn to write them.”