Mysterious Awakening

The ominous rhythm of footsteps echoed from somewhere behind Miles, reverberating ominously through the palpable darkness – “Tap, tap!” A chilling reminder that he wasn’t alone. Despite his frantic attempts to outpace the ghost, the menacing footfall sounds persisted, relentlessly tracking him. With each passing moment, they amplified, seemingly closing the gap between them.

Miles’s initial estimation had pegged the source of the encroaching footsteps at a distance of approximately five or six meters. However, as he continued his desperate journey, the disembodied footfalls felt alarmingly closer, as if they had reduced their distance to a mere three meters.

As he pressed forward, the relentless footfalls grew eerily intimate, a breath’s width away, breathing a cold dread down his neck, barely a meter distant.

Clutching his mobile phone with white-knuckled desperation, Miles was filled with trepidation that the comforting glow of the screen might suddenly blink out. His plan was to trigger a crucial audio file, a potential safeguard, should the spectral presence try to corner him again – the consistent rhythmic pattern emitted by the audio file served as his solitary lifeline, a beacon of hope in this terrifying, supernatural cat-and-mouse chase.

Keeping his senses keenly alert and bracing himself against any ghostly ambush, Miles discerned an uncanny pattern; the spectral footfalls seemed to maintain a constant distance from him, neither retreating nor inching menacingly closer.

“Could it be waiting for my phone’s battery to die?”

The unsettling thought crossed his mind, prompting him to swiftly glance at his phone’s battery icon. The sight of the dwindling power – less than ten percent – shot a frigid wave of fear down his spine.

In this twisted game, his survival seemed intrinsically tied to his rapidly depleting phone battery. If the apparition decided to attack again, it would merely be a countdown to his impending doom.

Escape appeared to be an overwhelmingly daunting task in the face of such foreboding circumstances.

Another frantic check of his phone revealed a harrowing reality: a mere seven percent battery life remained.

“If the battery depletes below 5%, the phone could abruptly shut down.”

Miles berated himself for his earlier reckless phone usage that had consumed invaluable battery life.

“But self-reproach won’t save me now. If I want to make it out alive, I must escape before the battery runs completely dry.”

With renewed determination, he erupted into a full-out sprint.

Guiding himself towards a distant yet distinct, dripping sound, he pushed his body to its absolute limits.

“Tap, tap, tap~!” The phantom footfalls persistently echoed his pace, a reminder of his relentless pursuer.

A sudden chill swept across his skin, followed by a faint, repulsive stench of decay that invaded his senses as if the ghost had materialized right beside him.

Like a horrifying shadow, the spectral entity mimicked his every move, doggedly tailing him.

With each stride he took, he drew tantalizingly closer to the origin of the dripping sound.

Without warning, his mobile phone’s screen blinked to life, casting a faint illumination on his terrified features.

Battery status: a meager 5%.

A warning message flashed urgently on the screen, “To prevent automatic shutdown, please charge your phone in time.”

“Damn it!” he cursed, frustration seeping through his words.

Now breathing heavily and drenched in cold sweat, Miles cast a fearful glance at his phone, a palpable dread infiltrating his being.

Regardless of the fatigue gnawing at him, he was acutely aware that he couldn’t afford to slacken his pace. To halt now would be equivalent to courting death.

Gritting his teeth, he persevered in his desperate dash for survival.

Suddenly, a faint glimmer pierced the encompassing gloom—a dim red flicker, weak yet undeniably stark against the endless expanse of the night.

“What’s that?” A flicker of hope ignited in Miles’s weary eyes, a beacon in the desolation.

But, at that exact moment, his phone vibrated in his hand, the screen flashing one last time before the grim message appeared.

[Automatic Phone Shut Down]

Despite a smidgen of battery life clinging on, his lifeline was shutting down.

As the light from his screen extinguished, a torrent of terror surged over him. The spectral footsteps that had been a constant presence seemed to close the remaining gap within a heartbeat. His ghostly stalker had managed to bridge the distance and was now breathing down his neck.

Immersed in the suffocating darkness, Miles could feel a chilling hand reaching out towards him. It skated past his ear, homing in on his vulnerable throat.

No matter the speed of his flight, he couldn’t evade the imminent icy clasp.

“Is this my end?” The frosty touch of ghostly fingers around his neck had already begun to sap his senses, numbing him to his core.

As the icy chill permeated his body, sending bone-chilling shivers down his spine, the prospect of escape seemed agonizingly remote. However, in these dire circumstances, the faint red light ahead stood out even more prominently against the stifling darkness.

Just as abruptly, the relentless footfalls that had been hounding him ceased, fading into silence. The freezing hand that had been hovering near his neck also stilled, refraining from exerting a death grip.

With each stride Miles took, he could feel the uncanny presence receding, as if distancing itself from him.

The spectral entity seemed to have abruptly halted its pursuit.

“What just happened?” he couldn’t help but muse in bewilderment.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of frenzied sprinting, Miles came to a halt, gasping for precious air. His body was sheathed in a cold perspiration, his mind a tumultuous storm from the petrifying encounter.

He was certain that his survival was not an act of chance but a deliberate choice made by the ghostly entity. But the question of ‘why?’ gnawed at him.

Straining his ears in the deafening silence, he could discern no traces of the ghostly footsteps that had relentlessly pursued him.

For the time being, safety seemed to have been grudgingly granted.

“I shouldn’t waste time pondering this now. If the entity has indeed ceased its pursuit, I should be safe, at least for a while. But I need to extricate myself from this nightmare as quickly as possible.” Taking a deep, steadying breath, he squared his shoulders and set his sights on the distant red light, purposefully making his way towards it.

Finally, after an arduous journey, he found himself at the origin of the enigmatic red glow.

“Could it be a light bulb? Or perhaps a glass bead?” He mulled over, his mind teeming with possibilities as he tried to make sense of the indistinguishable object in the pervasive darkness.

Compelled by curiosity, he ventured to touch the source of the intriguing red radiance.

“Ah~!” He yelped, recoiling as a sharp, searing pain coursed through his hand. “This isn’t a mere light bulb.”

To his absolute horror, the object – which turned out to be a diminutive red glass bead – clung to his hand. It writhed and squirmed alarmingly before drilling its way into his skin.

A tsunami of chilling pain engulfed him, merciless and unyielding.

Overwhelmed, he collapsed to the ground, writhing in sheer torment, as though his muscles were being torn asunder and his very soul pulverized.

In the midst of this unimaginable pain, however, Miles noted a sudden, drastic transformation in his surroundings.

The claustrophobic darkness began receding rapidly, and his vision clarified, granting him a sharper perspective of his immediate environment.

It felt as though he had been abruptly gifted with night vision.

Just as swiftly as it had descended upon him, the pain started to retreat. After enduring three torturous minutes of this intense ordeal, he lay spent on the ground, gasping for breath, his muscles trembling from the residual agony.

“What just happened?”

Gradually mustering some strength, Miles pushed himself upright, the sensation akin to having narrowly dodged the clutches of death. As his eyes swept over his now-visible surroundings, they widened in shock.

A skeletal tree of a deathly pallor loomed in front of him, its grotesque decorations lending it an eerie aspect. Adorned with patches of human skin, strips of tattered cloth, and severed heads, it was a sight that sent a cold shiver down his spine. But the most horrific sight was the colossal, four-meter figure dangling from the tree trunk.

The figure wasn’t human.

Rather, it was an intimidating entity, shadowy and vaguely humanoid in form, appearing to have emerged directly from the heart of the darkness itself.

The towering shadow hung motionless, suspended upside down from the tree, its head lolling aimlessly towards the ground.

Upon closer examination, Miles spotted an iron spike jutting out from the figure’s chest. As thick as an adult’s arm, it bore a striking resemblance to the nails reputedly used to seal coffins in folklore. Its rusted exterior was indicative of countless years of existence, appearing so fragile that it could crumble at any moment.

“Drip, drip~!”

A viscous, black fluid seeped from the wound created by the embedded spike in the spectral figure.

He realized this was the origin of the recurring dripping sound that had accompanied him in the darkness.

However, as Miles turned his attention to the head of the imposing shadow, a wave of dread washed over him.

The figure lacked any recognizable facial features, with only an empty cavity in place of eyes. The red light he’d stumbled upon earlier seemed to be radiating from these vacant sockets.

Next, his gaze fell onto his own hand.

“Gurgle~!”

An unsettling sight met his eyes: a wound had split open, from which a bloody eyeball emerged. It rotated in its socket, providing him with an entirely unexpected perspective.

It was as if a functioning eye had sprouted on the back of his hand, transmitting visual information directly to his brain.

Bizarre, disconcerting, and possibly even a newfound ability.

Despite the oddity of his situation, a deep-seated unease washed over Miles as he took in the ghastly sight of the bone-white tree, the scattered patches of human skin, the ghastly severed heads, and the enormous shadowy figure pinned to the trunk.

He couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling that the colossal shadow suspended from the tree posed a greater threat than the ghostly entity he had previously encountered.

Furthermore, an unnerving realization began to creep upon him – the vacant sockets of the decapitated heads hanging from the tree seemed to observe him from the shadows, making his skin crawl.

A spine-chilling shiver coursed through his body, his thoughts overwhelmed with constant trepidation about the unusual eyeball that had sprouted from his hand.

However, now was not the moment to dwell on such oddities.

The oppressive darkness around him had receded, revealing an environment that was both enigmatic and intimidating, marked solely by the skeletal, ghostly tree.

The place felt alien, entirely unknown to him.

But when he dared to glance over his shoulder, he spotted a door in the distance, in the direction he had arrived from — a restroom door with its distinct appearance.

Seemingly, the door was closer than he had initially perceived, though he had been completely unaware of its existence in the pitch-black darkness before.