Mysterious Awakening

Miles’s daily routine at school commenced punctually at eight in the morning and continued till late in the evening, culminating with an intensive study session. His day had been considerably more arduous than usual due to his exploits from the previous night, thus turning his day into an unending cycle of persistent yawns and relentless fatigue. Each time he succumbed to the temptation of a quick nap during lectures, the haunting image of an elderly man from the narrative would shock him back to consciousness. His subconscious was engaged in a sly game of manipulation, making him feel as though the hollow, frosty eyes depicted in the story’s photograph were observing him from a hidden corner of the room.

Attempting to reclaim his alertness, he couldn’t resist but murmur to himself, “Sleep is out of the question; that photograph is far too unsettling.”

Suddenly, his internal dialogue was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Hey, Miles, do you have a moment to chat?” The voice belonged to William, a slender figure who was leaning towards him. William was not just Miles’s desk mate in class but also a close friend.

Confused, Miles asked, “Chat about what, exactly?”

William let out a soft chuckle, “Oh, stop feigning ignorance. I’ve been watching you yawn repeatedly. It’s quite apparent that you were up to some late-night antics.”

He gave Miles’s shoulder a friendly nudge, then leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “Have you discovered any exciting material lately? Share it, my friend. Let’s all partake in the thrill.”

Miles retorted in disbelief, “Thrill, you say? I was absorbed in a ghost story on my phone that robbed me of sleep.”

“Ghost story, huh?” A classmate piped up from the nearby seat, “That reminds me, have you guys heard about the mysterious incidents happening in our city’s residential areas recently?”

“What incidents?” Miles’s curiosity was piqued. “I haven’t heard anything.”

William interjected enthusiastically, “Ah, I know about that one. Rumor has it that multiple residents committed suicide in a local neighborhood just last night. Their bodies were found hanging eerily from the security bars of their apartment windows. The scene resembled something straight out of a terrifying horror movie. I have a picture here, but I’m not entirely sure if it’s legitimate.”

Without further ado, he quickly navigated through his phone’s photo gallery, locating the unnerving image.

The photograph, captured under the dim, inadequate lighting of the housing complex, portrayed a deeply unsettling scene. The insufficient light and distant perspective rendered the photo somewhat grainy, yet the silhouettes of human bodies hanging from the window bars were distinctly visible. They were lined up in a morbid row, their distorted faces barely discernible and their wide-open eyes implying a horrifying ordeal prior to their deaths.

At a glance, the hanging bodies bore an uncanny resemblance to strips of dried meat due to how their heads hung between the security bars of the windows.

The image had a strange power; the more one scrutinized it, the deeper the sense of dread it instilled. This photograph, akin to the one of the elderly man on Miles’s phone, elicited a surge of unsettling emotions.

“Good heavens! Where on earth did you manage to find this photograph? I’ve been scouring everywhere for it and came up empty-handed,” a classmate sitting nearby blurted out, unable to mask his surprise.

With a proud grin plastered on his face, William reveled in the unexpected attention his find had garnered. He boasted, “Just a lucky break. A friend of mine happened to be passing by at the right moment when it all went down. The officials have since barricaded the area, strictly prohibiting any photography. If you’re itching to get your hands on this particular shot, you’ll have to show me some respect. Put an end to the impotent jokes and start addressing me as ‘dad’. And remember, I’ve got an English name now.” His smirk widened into a confident, teasing grin as he winked, “Call me ‘Washer-bee’. Make sure to remember it and shout it out the next time you spot me in a public place.”

“We’ve all had the same nine years of compulsory education, yet somehow you lot seem to be operating on a different wavelength altogether,” Miles chimed in, trying to mock his classmates.

In response, William shot back a retort, his grin even more self-satisfied, “Miles, we supplemented our education with additional tutoring. It’s not something you can merely absorb by osmosis.”

“Of late, I’ve seen a lot of buzz on the internet about these eerie, supernatural events,” Grace, a female classmate, leaned over to ask, her voice a mix of curiosity and unease. “They seem disturbingly realistic to the point where I’m petrified to read about them. Do you guys believe these accounts? Could there truly be haunted places out there?”

Miles countered, “The majority of online stories are sensationalized or entirely fabricated. I won’t put my faith in the existence of ghosts until I come face-to-face with one. However, it’s always wise to err on the side of caution. In the unlikely event we encounter such phenomena, it’s best to maintain a safe distance.”

Grace bobbed her head in thoughtful agreement, “That seems logical.”

The lively banter was abruptly cut short by the stern voice of Teacher Wang. “Silence, everyone,” he commanded as he strode into the classroom. “Tonight’s self-study session has been substituted with an educational lecture on student safety, as per the school’s directives. I expect complete silence and undivided attention throughout the presentation. Disruptions will be met with severe consequences. Let’s extend a warm welcome to our guest speaker, Mr. Right. Applause, please.”

Miles clapped along with the rest of the class, but his face bore a look of bafflement. A safety lecture at such a late hour?

His confusion only deepened as the guest speaker, Right, stepped into the room. The man was decked in a grey trench coat despite the warm weather and wore a face mask that covered most of his features. A badge of some sort was pinned to his chest. His startling appearance was hard to ignore; his face was gaunt to the point of appearing skeletal, and his eyes, made unnaturally large by his extreme emaciation, were riddled with bloodshot veins, indicating sleep deprivation.

Beneath the starkness of his bony face, an incongruously protruding belly was visible. It was an odd sight – typically, someone with a beer belly wouldn’t be so skeletal. The contrast made his appearance all the more unsettling.

As Right positioned himself at the podium, he projected an aura of bleakness, exhaustion, and a chilling numbness. His rigid posture was unnerving, and his vacant eyes conducted a lifeless survey of the room.

A wave of inexplicable terror seized the students as his penetrating gaze swept over them like an icy gust of wind, leaving an unsettling chill in its wake.

Miles felt his own body reacting involuntarily, muscles tensing and hands balling into tight fists. He kept his gaze decidedly averted from Right’s, resisting the urge to lock eyes with him. The unsettling sensation induced by Right was, in fact, more powerful and disturbing than his prior encounter with the ghastly photograph.

“Good evening, students. My name is Right, and I am your lecturer for the evening, appointed by Dachang City. It is a true privilege for me to stand before you today, in this capacity, very much alive and well,” Right finally broke the silence. His voice was as dry and raspy as autumn leaves, harsh and grating like the sound of glass shards being dragged over coarse concrete. His disquieting appearance, coupled with this unnerving voice, sent spine-tingling shivers coursing down the bodies of his listeners.

Alive to deliver a lecture? The phrase reverberated in Miles’s mind, leaving him bathed in a disconcerting sense of unease.

In the ensuing silence, Mr. Right picked up a piece of chalk, pivoted towards the blackboard, and with a firm, unwavering hand, wrote a single, bold word that could not be mistaken: Ghost!

“Stories and legends of apparitions and ghosts have been woven into the tapestry of history, not just within our nation but globally,” Right began, his voice still carrying that raw, gravelly texture. “I am not a historian tasked with unearthing ancient tales, but I am sure you grasp the broad idea.”

His pace was unhurried as he continued, “Now, it’s vital to recognize an emerging contemporary phenomenon. Supernatural occurrences are no longer just sporadic, isolated incidents. They’ve seen a sharp upswing in recent years, and if unchecked, stand on the precipice of escalating into a global disaster. If this alarming trend continues to spiral out of control, the very fabric of our future might be at stake.”

His audacious proclamation sent a ripple of surprise throughout the room.

How had a lecture on safety devolved into a surreal convention of supernatural talk, replete with apocalyptic predictions?

Even Teacher Wang seemed visibly taken aback, a mirror to the collective shock of the students.

“I will refrain from delving into specifics on this matter, and I would advise you to not probe into it either,” Right suggested before steering his lecture towards its critical point. “What I’m about to impart is of paramount importance. Please commit it to memory, for it may very well prove to be a lifesaver in the days to come.”

He paused for a moment, letting the suspense build, before turning back to the blackboard and etching a new phrase: Ghosts cannot be killed.

“There might come a time, perhaps sooner than you anticipate, when you cross paths with the utterly unexpected, say, a ghost. Notwithstanding its eerie nature, remember this adage: ghosts cannot be killed. Even if gripped by terror, don’t venture to confront these entities. To them, your existence is trivial, and they can snuff out your life as effortlessly as blowing out a candle.”

His tired, bloodshot eyes swept over the room, underscoring the gravity of his words. He then pivoted to inscribe yet another sentence on the blackboard.

“The only countermeasure to a ghost is another ghost,” Right announced, his voice resounding through the room.

“Given the supernatural invincibility of these ethereal beings, every technological weapon at mankind’s disposal is rendered insignificant and ineffective, be it traditional armament or even the most devastating nuclear devices,” Right articulated. “Until our scientists can penetrate the enigmatic essence of these ‘ghosts’, our only conceivable strategy is to pit one specter against another. I acknowledge that this notion might strike you as ludicrous, and you may question the soundness of my mental faculties. However, that’s a minor concern. What’s paramount is that you heed these words, comprehend their gravity, and etch them into your memory. In due time, this information could prove invaluable.” He then added solemnly, “Of course, my earnest hope is that you’ll never find yourself in a situation where you’ll have to put this information to practical use.”

“Miles, are you following any of this? I’m entirely lost,” William confessed, whispering from the sidelines.

“I can’t say I’ve fully grasped it either, but his message is definitely imparting a real sense of foreboding,” Miles admitted in a low voice.

“Do you think our planet has experienced some sort of anomalous metamorphosis, like the scenarios portrayed in those speculative fiction novels?” William proposed thoughtfully.

“I find that hard to believe,” Miles responded hesitantly.

Despite his imaginative inclinations towards tales of immortality and superhuman abilities, the prospect of such phenomena transposing into reality incited a deep unease within him. After all, such extraordinary manifestations could significantly threaten the fabric of ordinary human existence.

Back at the podium, Right picked up the thread of his discourse, “As previously established, considering the indestructibility of these ghosts and their uncanny abilities, a pertinent question arises: how is an ordinary human supposed to survive a confrontation with such an entity? This is an absolutely crucial point, one that I implore you to retain for the entirety of your lives.”

Having underlined this vital point, he pivoted towards the blackboard and scrawled a third phrase with decisive strokes: Discern the pattern of ghosts.

“Every phenomenon in our universe adheres to a particular pattern or set of rules, and ghosts are no exception,” Right expounded. “Our research data suggests that each type of spectral being operates with a nearly uniform method of action and behavior, strikingly similar to a predetermined computer program. Just as a computer boots up when you press the power button, and specific software launches upon your command, understanding the operational patterns of these spectral entities, identifying their unique characteristics, and uncovering their weak points can provide the sole chance for an ordinary person to survive should they become a target of such a being.”

He concluded gravely, “Bear in mind, if you are ever singled out by a ghost, your survival depends solely on this strategy of discerning their rules. Never succumb to the false comfort of relying on luck. The terror wielded by these ethereal entities surpasses the confines of your most terrifying nightmares.”

He reiterated these ominous words with an intensity that resonated throughout the room.