The summer of 1998, Gai and a university friend arrived in Y city. With a brand-new Nikon film camera slung over his shoulder, he set out to find the infamous ghost building.

  It was dusk when they finally stood before the abandoned complex. The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay. They waited until 11 p.m. before slipping inside.

  Most of the top floor had been torn away, leaving only four full stories and a partial fifth. The rusted security door hung half-open, its weight dragging against the floor. Walls had collapsed, windows gaped like empty eye sockets, and debris littered the ground. On the second floor, someone had spray-painted a single word in blood-red letters: GHOST.

  They climbed to the fourth floor.

  "Is this the one?" his friend whispered.

  Gai checked the doorplate with his flashlight. "402. This is it."

  They exchanged a glance, swallowed their nerves, and stepped inside.

  Moonlight spilled through the half-destroyed walls, illuminating the empty space. The apartment’s layout was still visible—a living room at the entrance, a kitchen and bathroom to the side, a narrow hallway leading to two bedrooms, and at the very end, a window. With the walls partially gone, they could see everything at once.

  It was… ordinary. Silent. Nothing stirred. They had come all this way. Leaving now felt like a waste.

  "Let’s wait until midnight," Gai suggested.

  His friend nodded. They sat down, pulling out snacks to pass the time. Gai checked his watch.

  11:15 p.m.

  "Did you hear that?" his friend suddenly asked.

  Gai listened intently but heard nothing. His friend frowned but said nothing more, sitting down beside him.

  11:23 p.m.

  Time dragged on. Gai checked his glowing wristwatch, feeling the seconds stretch unbearably long.

  "Let’s check out the other floors," he suggested. "Might as well do something."His friend hesitated, then agreed.

  They started from the first floor, working their way up. The first and second floors were nothing but debris.

  On the third floor, his friend suddenly grabbed his wrist. "Did you hear that?"

  Gai listened. Nothing.

  "Stop scaring yourself," he muttered.

  11:32 p.m.

  They reached what remained of the fifth floor—little more than an open-air platform with a few stubborn walls still standing.

  As they stood beneath the moonlight, his friend leaned in close and whispered, "Listen carefully this time."

  Gai sighed but obliged.

  The night was still. The city was distant. Aside from the occasional chirp of insects, there was nothing but silence.

  But then… something else. Faint. Distant.

  A slow, scraping sound.

  It was subtle at first, almost indistinguishable from the summer night’s ambiance. But as he focused, it became clearer. Sharp. Uneven. Something scratching against a surface.

  His friend clutched his arm. "Tell me you hear that, right?"

  Gai's stomach tightened. Yes. He heard it now.

  His friend’s voice trembled. "Doesn’t that sound like fingernails on a wall?"

  A shiver ran down G’s spine.

  The sound was growing louder. Then suddenly stopped.

  Then started again. Closer.

  Awareness is a strange thing. Once you hear something, you can’t unhear it.

  They stood frozen in the moonlight, staring at each other. The noise was coming from below.

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  "We should go back," Gai said suddenly.

  "Go where?"

  "402."

  His friend’s face went pale. "Are you insane?! How do we even get down? The sound’s coming from below us!"

  "We came all this way. Might as well see who’s making that noise."

  "What if it's not a who?"

  Gai didn’t answer. He turned toward the stairs.

  His friend let out a quiet, trembling whimper. "Don’t leave me alone."

  Gai sighed and grabbed his friend's wrist, pulling him along. Together, they stepped back into the yawning darkness of the stairwell, descending—one slow step at a time—toward the fourth floor.

  11:36 PM.

  As soon as they stepped into the fourth-floor corridor, the sound stopped.

  Back inside 402, Gai began taking out a tripod from his backpack, setting up the camera, and searching for a suitable position.

  "What are you doing?!" his friend asked anxiously.

  "Taking pictures. If something’s here, I want proof."

  "Screw proof, let’s get out of here!"

  "Two shots. That’s it. Then we leave."

  His friend reluctantly stood by the camera, waiting. Gai held his breath.

  “Are you going to take the picture or not?” his friend urged.

  “Shh! Don’t speak.”

  Gai was waiting, waiting for the sound to return.

  11:43 PM.

  The room was deathly silent.

  Then—

  The scraping returned. grating and unpleasant, like a cat sharpening its claws on your skull or a thin fishing line being pulled across your mind, sending chills down your spine and souring the taste in your stomach.

  But this time, it wasn’t just near them.

  It was inside 402.

  "Do I take the picture now?" his friend’s voice quivered, face contorted in terror.

  Gai, too, felt the creeping unease. He glanced around at the walls but couldn’t pinpoint the source of the sound.

  "Yes. Now."

  Click-click.

  The photo was taken. Then, the silence shattered.

  A deafening crash. The sound of something slamming into the walls, rushing toward them.

  His friend grabbed the tripod and shouted, “Let’s go!” before sprinting down the stairs.

  Gai opened his eyes and ran after him. But the staircase was too dark. All he could hear were their footfalls echoing.

  “Wait up!” Gai shouted, but there was no response.

  “Damn it, wait for me!” Gai yelled, desperate, as he ran down the stairs in the pitch-black darkness.

  But after what felt like an eternity, he still hadn’t reached the first floor, nor did he hear his friend’s footsteps.

  Gai stopped. He glanced at his watch.

  11:55 PM.

  Gai realized he had been running through the dark hallway for at least five minutes, drenched in cold sweat, but still, he found himself trapped in the black void of the stairwell.

  Desperately, he fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a flashlight. He flicked it on, but the beam was weak, barely piercing the surrounding darkness, as if the shadows were ready to devour the light.

  At some point, the doors on either side of the hall had gone dark, and Gai strained his eyes, desperately trying to find something—anything—he could focus on. But all he saw was the staircase and the handrails. Nothing else.

  The sound was still there, hovering just above his head, like an invisible hand brushing against his hearing, each scrape sending waves of terror through his body.

  His trembling hand raised the flashlight, casting the beam along the walls. Finally, he caught sight of the floor number.

  Fourth floor.

  The door number beside him was 402!

  A chill ran down his spine as the flashlight slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground.

  It was probably just a cheap, temporary flashlight, but the sound of it breaking on impact felt like the last thread of his hope snapping in two. He crouched against the wall, burying his face in his arms like an ostrich hiding from danger.

  But his ears were still working. His hearing was still there.

  The sound was still there.

  It surrounded him. Behind him, above him, below him.

  Gai felt as though his heart might stop at any moment.

  Just then, a cold hand landed on his shoulder.

  Gai didn’t dare lift his head.

  “Let’s go! What are you still doing here?”

  Gai recognized the familiar voice. He looked up to see his friend, panic-stricken, holding a flashlight, urgently pulling him toward the stairs.

  Together, they bolted down the stairs, and just as they reached the door, Gai slammed the security door shut with all his strength, surprised to find the lock still functional.

  Once outside, they stood under the moonlight, gasping for breath. But before they could even recover, the door behind them suddenly slammed with a loud thud, as though something inside had violently collided with it. A cloud of dust exploded into the air, floating in the moonlight before finally settling.

  They exchanged a glance, then instinctively checked their watches. Exactly midnight.

  Without another word, they turned and sprinted toward the busy streets of the city, where the sounds of traffic and the bustle of night markets offered a strange sense of relief. Only then did they stop, panting, their hearts still racing.

  "Honestly, if my friend hadn’t come back to find me that day, I think I’d be dead by now," Gai said.

  "What about the photo?" I reached out and touched the photo.

  "To be honest, when we took it, it was just the two of us alive. As for how a third person showed up in the picture, we know, but we don’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t until years later that I dared to look at them again. The terrifying atmosphere of that night is still so vivid in my mind."

  As I listened to Gai’s words, my mind was suddenly flooded with questions, but I didn’t know where to begin.

  Gai glanced at me and asked, "Why are you so fixated on that photo?"

  I froze, unsure whether I should speak up or not. After a moment of hesitation, I finally said, "It’s nothing. I’m from Y City. I know this place."

  "Oh..." Gai gave me a meaningful look. I didn’t like that look--it was as if he had seen through some hidden secret.

  By the time I left Gai’s studio, night had already fallen.

  "You’d better go to a temple," Gai advised one last time. "Better safe than sorry."

  I nodded and gave a polite smile in return.

  As the city lights flickered on, I stood on the side of the bustling street, while Xion beside me kept going on about how terrifying Gai’s story was.

  I shook my head, offering a forced smile, and took a few steps ahead of him.

  But the tears that welled up in my eyes were making the world in front of me blur.

  All the colors around me twisted into strange, unnatural shapes, flowing into forms that made me uneasy. Sometimes, they looked like a door. Other times, they seemed like a face. It was just like the stories that happen in this world—complicated, ever-changing, unreal and real at the same time. I couldn’t tell anymore what was true and what was just a memory or a dream.