T/N: This is a collection of 3 interconnected horror stories.

Don’t worry about this chapter’s 2nd person present tense POV. Other than the chapters like this that connect the three stories, everything else is in 3rd person past tense POV. This is a new format for me, so I hope you enjoy reading!

---

It is your first day at work.

The corporate office is on the thirteenth floor of a residential building.

This old high-rise building was built in the city center many years ago, and there is no telling how many trials and tribulations it has gone through. The people who built it back then had no planning awareness, nor did they spare a thought for maintaining or renovating the building. By the time you get there for work, the building is old and dilapidated.

The elevator here is filthy, and constantly issues a harsh rattle when it runs. When you take the elevator, you are on tenterhooks for fear of it breaking down.

Fortunately, this time the elevator successfully sends you to the thirteenth floor.

When the elevator doors open, you walk out quickly.

The instant you look up, you see a long corridor. Poor design has left this corridor completely devoid of natural lighting, and the only illumination comes from a few dim incandescent lamps overhead.

There are rows of symmetrical red security doors on both sides of the corridor. It appears that there are a great many rooms, but you never see anyone come out of those doors. There are pink building management notices on many of the doors. You take a look and realize that the date in the lower right hand corner is four years ago.

The floor is dirty, and the areas near the walls have turned black. Only a small area in the middle just barely reveals the original color of the beige floor tiles.

As for your new business location, it is right at the end of the corridor.

You duck your head and walk into your corporate office without many expectations. It is said to be a corporate office, but this office was actually converted from an ordinary residence. It is probably because of this that this place makes you feel suffocated and crowded…..although there are actually not many employees here.

This is certainly not the sort of work environment you want.

But…..

Ai, in this world, having a job is already pretty good.

You strive to comfort yourself.

The person who interviewed you before was a middle-aged man with a gloomy face. You had originally thought he was in HR, and didn’t expect that he would turn out to be your boss. When he sees you, he brings you to the workstation.

Your desk is very worn out, and looks like it came from a second-hand store.

But your computer is even worse. Judging from the shiny patina on the keyboard, it has already gone through many hardships. You are simply astonished at how old the computer is, and just as you’re wondering if it can still turn on, the computer starts up with a buzz.

You sit tremblingly in your seat, and when you reach out to touch the keyboard, you inexplicably shiver from the sensation. This is not because of the sticky feel of the keyboard, but because when you touch the keys, a slight warmth spreads from your fingertips…..as if you are touching something alive.

Tsk, you’re really thinking too much.

You quickly return to your senses and get to work.

Okay, la, from now on, you have officially become an editor under the Pheasant multi-channel network.

Of course, you can tell by the channel’s environment that the company basically can’t bring in any traffic at all, so your main job is to post some incomprehensible text content to the company’s account like a robot. As if anyone actually looks at this account.

You certainly feel like you’re wasting your life. And on this day, you inadvertently click a note on the outdated computer. Then you see an unfamiliar account and a password. 

You could actually ignore that account.

You will think of this boring afternoon many times afterward.

You will think, it would have been better if you had just closed that account…..it’s only a pity that there is no medicine for regret in this world.

At this time, you just log into the dusty account neglected by the company out of boredom.

“Happy Event Bot”

There is nothing memorable about this name, nor does it mean anything.

When you see the number of followers on the account, you can’t help but gasp. You can be sure that this must be an account created in the company’s early days. Otherwise, it would be impossible to spend money to buy such an exaggerated amount of zombie fans.^[1]

And when you see the account’s content, you raise an eyebrow.

Hm, how should you put it? Not long ago, content had also been posted on this account by who appeared to be your predecessor. 

It was just that those sentences seemed to have a bit of a mismatch between the preface and the content.

Of course, the content of this account is very ordinary in the beginning, no different from those meaningless and unauthorized reposts you’ve submitted.

Afterward, this account seems to have changed its direction and begun to make bot submissions. You scan it and feel that it is all nonsense.

But gradually, incrementally, in addition to submitting articles, the content published by this account becomes strange.

[@Happy Event Bot: What exactly is it that you do?]

[@Happy Event Bot: Stop posting, I won’t read it.]

[@Happy Event Bot: Is it fun to pretend to engage with the supernatural?]

It seems that this person had been harassed by private messages. However, while various submissions were rejected, the account was regularly sending various submissions.

And the various personal messages sent by the account owner during this time gradually became eerie.

[@Happy Event Bot: Please forgive me, okay? I didn’t mean it.]

[@Happy Event Bot: I know you’ve been watching. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ve been obedient, I’ve done everything. I beg you, please spare me. I can’t take it anymore.]

And the final personal message was sent just a few months ago.

[@Happy Event Bot: I know I have no hope you’re coming right you won’t spare me at all I’m not afraid anymore winter is the eyes of autumn this apple is delicious the butterfly flew away Italian pasta saw you and I both know this phrase]

As you look at that Weibo message speechlessly, wondering what kind of crazy new literature this is, you hear the sound of a private message in the background.

Only then do you realize that countless unread messages have accumulated.

When you click in, you realize that these are all messages sent by other people.

Seriously, ah? The company gave you so many zombie accounts, but hid the accounts with such high activity? It is inevitable that you’re a little displeased, and as you think, you click on a submission.

You initially just wanted to take a casual look, but unexpectedly, as soon as you read it, all of your attention is drawn to the content of the submission.

The article submitted by this author is about the “gege” under his bed.

[…..Grandmother told me that he was my gege.]

[When I was a child, I really didn’t understand why I called the skeletal remains in the burial urn “gege,” or why I had to put food under the bed every day and say that I was sending food to gege.]

[Actually, I had always been afraid of my gege. After all, it was a burial urn. But my grandma kept telling me that I was the only one in the family who could deliver food, because I was male and didn’t have to worry about childbirth.]

[Grandmother always said that as long as my gege was there, I didn’t have to worry about anyone hurting me. But I later discovered…..]

[She was lying to me]

*

@Happy Event Bot: Submission #1114

<<Ghost Gege>>

---

[1] Zombie fans — inactive or fake users on social media. ⮐

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Table of Contents >> Chapter 2