The Haunted Cinema

Under the dim glow of the night, everything was eerily still. Yet, each person's breath was heavy, and a sense of melancholy weighed on their hearts.

At that moment, the burly man from Sichuan patted Allen on the shoulder and said, "Brother, no matter what, just having you all with me is enough."

Allen understood the unspoken meaning behind the words and began to consider what actions to take next.

These people—some perhaps seasoned, others undoubtedly novices—were still shrouded in uncertainty. For Allen, the present situation was all too unclear, and there was little information to guide him.

For now, his primary concern was survival, with the secondary aim being the acquisition of additional "Redemption Tickets."

He had already calmed his mind enough to process the additional knowledge that had manifested in his head. The so-called "Phantom Cinema" was beyond his wildest imagination—a phenomenon that transcended human understanding and could not be explained by modern science. A curse so terrifying that it could easily transport someone into a world where a horror film was being shot—what purpose could such power serve? One thing was certain: it did not seem designed for the sole purpose of torturing him. If that had been the goal, he would have already met a gruesome death. The very fact that they were participating in a horror film seemed to imply that something more was at play, something more than mere torment.

Thus, he deduced that this Phantom Cinema's objective was not to kill them outright but rather to make them part of a horror film. Unlike the films that focused on inescapable terror, like Ju-On or Ringu, this movie would offer a chance for survival. Since there were viewers—whoever they were—there must be a means to survive, otherwise, the very concept of Redemption Tickets would make no sense.

It seemed that, despite the horrors that awaited, there must be a path to survival within the story. Allen's immediate strategy was to distance himself from the bus, but this was no guarantee of safety. After all, in a horror film, those tormented by spirits rarely found salvation, no matter how far they traveled. Merely putting distance between himself and the bus might not be enough. But still, there was no other option but to try.

The question that lingered in his mind, however, was whether it was possible to acquire more Redemption Tickets. These tickets determined whether one could escape the film's narrative and return to the real world. Failing to collect a sufficient number of tickets meant an endless, eternal participation in horror films—each film more horrific than the last. These would not be the kind of films where survival could be achieved by fighting monsters with weapons, like Resident Evil or Aliens, nor would they be like slasher films such as Friday the 13th or Saw, where human killers were the main threat. And certainly, it wouldn't be a mere retelling of familiar horror films like The Ring or Ju-On. In such a scenario, no flesh-and-blood human could possibly survive for long. Therefore, accumulating Redemption Tickets was paramount.

At present, Allen had only vague clues about how to acquire additional tickets, but one thing seemed clear: the longer one survived, the more tickets would be granted. It appeared that the number of tickets was directly tied to the importance of one's role. The protagonist, who survived the longest, would naturally earn the most tickets. As for how exactly this worked, Allen wasn't yet sure. But surviving longer seemed to guarantee additional tickets. But what if he saved someone whose death was scripted? Could that earn him more tickets?

These were the thoughts Allen kept to himself, knowing that such musings were not to be shared. In a horror film, discussing the workings of the Phantom Cinema could jeopardize everything. He had to remain fully immersed in his role—this was the unspoken rule. His current behavior was already suspicious. As Dean, he was supposed to head down the mountain after the bus broke down, yet here he was, lingering behind. This was clearly not in line with the script. But there was no choice. If he kept moving, his Redemption Tickets would deplete even faster.

What should he do next?

"Are we not going to continue?" The Sichuan man suddenly spoke. "Surely we've rested enough by now?"

Allen thought to himself, What if your tickets run out? But sitting idle was becoming increasingly hard to justify. They hadn't even walked a mile yet—hardly enough to warrant a rest. According to the information in his mind, any action that deviated too far from the script would lead to an automatic "NG." The exact boundaries weren't clear, but one thing was certain: even if Redemption Tickets could alter the script, one had to act according to the character's persona. If he was playing an illiterate, he couldn't suddenly read; if he was supposed to be cheerful, he couldn't act gloomily.

But Allen was human, and it was already difficult enough to remain calm in such a sudden and terrifying environment. Asking him to consider every possible detail was an impossible task. His initial instinct had been to flee from the bus, and everything else was secondary. The severe loss of Redemption Tickets was something he had not fully anticipated.

Perhaps he had left the bus too early? The script didn't dictate anyone's death until the clock struck midnight and the driver died. He could have waited for more events to unfold, for new clues to emerge. But now it was too late to turn back, especially with tickets already deducted.

"Let's… sit for a little while longer," Allen said with a nervous smile.

To his surprise, though this wasn't part of the script, speaking these words didn't result in further deduction of Redemption Tickets. Maybe in the grand scheme of things, such minor changes were insignificant compared to the larger actions.

It felt better to talk with others, at least. Silence only heightened the tension.

"We've been on the bus for too long. It's hard to get used to walking like this after a while," Allen said, trying to justify their brief pause. He felt awkward, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Then, he turned to Clark, grasped his hand, and reassured him, "Don't worry. We're all in this together. There's no obstacle we can't overcome."

This was meant to bolster Clark's morale. At this point, there was no escaping. The only way forward was for all of them to band together and survive the horror film. For Allen, survival meant relying on his companions—people who shared his fate and could help him through this nightmare.

Clark, visibly shaken, trembled and stammered, "I… I… I…"

He was clearly in shock. Meanwhile, the Sichuan man appeared more at ease. Though his face showed signs of fear, his performance remained natural.

Dustin, on the other hand, was fidgeting, glancing around and taking out his phone in an attempt to call someone, but there was no signal.

The married couple sat huddled together, likely a couple in real life, given their matching wedding rings. Upon entering this world, their clothes had changed drastically, much like Allen's. They were now dressed in casual wear, and their personal items, such as wallets and phones, had vanished. Allen suspected their wedding rings had materialized in this world as well.

The young man with the cap remained silent, sitting apart from the group, saying nothing.

Everyone was likely holding their tongues, afraid that speaking too much would cost them valuable Redemption Tickets.

At that moment, the wife of the couple suddenly appeared flustered, whispered something to her husband, and stood up to walk away.

"Where is she going?" Allen asked anxiously. In this world, wandering off alone was dangerous.

The husband replied, "My… my wife needs to use the restroom."

Allen's unease grew. It made sense now—this was a world populated by men, and she, being the only woman, could hardly relieve herself in front of everyone. But he still called after her, "Don't go too far!"

He knew he had to speak more, to reassure the others that talking now wouldn't cost them any more tickets. "Let's all talk. Staying silent like this only makes things worse."

The Sichuan man agreed, "Yeah, you're right. How about we introduce ourselves? I'm Zhang Dekun."

Allen quickly waved his hand, trying to stop him, but it was too late. The husband, now more at ease, rubbed his hands together, looking around before saying, "I'm Jiang Yi."

Clark, appearing a bit steadier, finally spoke, "I… I'm Clark."

He clearly wasn't using his real name. From his nervousness, it seemed he might have forgotten his character's name in the confusion.

Dustin also introduced himself. The only one who remained silent was the young man with the cap.

The young man muttered coldly, "Liu An," then fell silent again.

Allen breathed a sigh of relief. At least they had remembered to use their character names. If they hadn't, they would have risked an NG. With introductions out of the way, Allen felt a little closer to everyone. But just as he was about to speak further, his unease returned...

Where was the wife?

An unsettling feeling crept up his spine, and his mind raced.

Perhaps she had simply gone too far? Or maybe, she hadn't believed this world was real and tried to escape for help?

"Mr. Jiang," Allen urgently asked, "Where's your wife? Why hasn't she come back?"

Jiang Yi looked startled and then gazed in the direction his wife had gone.

"Let's go find her!" Allen said, his heart pounding with dread.

Human life is at stake! Allen recalled the countless ghosts that appeared in the movie poster of "Horror Bus" and began to feel a tremor in his heart!