Orwell's words made both Stein and me shiver as if electrocuted, our bodies trembling. Someone tapped Orwell? He... came?
We were invisible, but Orwell could see us—after all, the Equinox Flower tattoos were there, plus loved ones could invoke spirits, and Sound Soul was also willing to see you.
"Turn your head to look. Is it your second uncle?" I asked in a low voice.
Orwell let out a long breath and began slowly turning his head, but in an instant, I saw his face suddenly pale and his whole body shake violently.
Seeing this, Stein and I tensed up too, our hearts nearly leaping into our throats.
"What's wrong? Is it your second uncle or not?" I asked again.
But this time, Orwell didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed us and shouted desperately, "Run!"
We weren't stupid—if it had been Orwell's second uncle, he certainly wouldn't have reacted like this. But he had clearly seen something.
If it wasn't his second uncle, and he had seen something, that meant other ghosts were coming.
As soon as he ran, Stein and I naturally couldn't stay behind. We sprinted wildly, the three of us reaching the side of the dam in one breath.
There was a large house by the dam, but no light inside. We didn't know if anyone was there and didn't dare enter.
I gasped heavily and asked, "Orwell, what the hell did you see? Don't just run!"
"Myself! I saw myself, myself!" Orwell shouted as if crazed, suddenly grabbing me by the collar.
Stein and I were baffled. Had this guy... lost his mind? He wasn't dead—how could he see himself? Could what he saw have been so horrifying it scared him senseless?
I told him to calm down. This place was evil—if he saw something incomprehensible, he shouldn't believe it.
"Yes, this place is too evil, and there are many ghosts. I won't believe it." Orwell laughed loudly after hearing me, but his expression still wasn't quite right.
Just then, Orwell suddenly clutched his head and screamed in pain.
With no other choice, Stein and I helped him into the house.
The door was open, the interior pitch black. I turned on my phone's flashlight and swept it around, revealing only a square table and two beds. No one was inside, but I smelled blood.
Stein and I helped Orwell sit at the table, then had Stein tend to him while I searched for the blood's source.
After looking around, I glanced under the bed and realized there was a dead man there. Horror of horrors—the corpse's skin had been removed, and the bed's underside was soaked in blood. The victim was likely one of the dam workers.
"Who killed this man? Who skinned him? That's brutal!" I said, shaking my head.
"It was Lucky!" Orwell said. "Last time, that old woman's human skin got us into trouble, so it had to get a new one."
Right—this weasel would wear human skin to gather food for Aria, making it easier to move around in the human world.
Orwell said Aria was about to break the seal soon, so Lucky would definitely hunt more food for her. A fresh skin would make the job easier.
This pair was horrifying. Just thinking about it sent chills down my spine—if we got caught and thrown into the well, how gruesome would our deaths be?
"Orwell, are you feeling better? Let's keep looking for your second uncle," I urged.
We had to find his uncle quickly. Staying any longer could put us in danger. This place was beyond evil—just now, Orwell claimed he saw his own soul. How bizarre was that? And now his sudden headache—I had no idea what was happening.
If not for the $150,000 deposit he'd paid, I would've left long ago. This place was even creepier than I'd imagined.
"I'm fine. Let's keep looking!" Orwell stood up and was the first to walk out. His mood had eased a lot, and his face looked better now.
But where to search next? The big tree was where his uncle died, but he wasn't there. Neither was his old home. Even Orwell was at a loss, saying he had no idea where his second uncle could be.
Then Stein suddenly asked, "Was Aria your second uncle's favorite woman?"
Orwell didn't understand why Stein brought this up, but he nodded anyway.
"Then… could your second uncle be near that well?" Stein's unexpected suggestion made sense.
Sound Soul wasn't a ghost. Even if he was lingering near the well, neither humans nor spirits would detect him unless summoned.
What Stein said was highly possible—but that well…
Before, we had sealed it safely, but now things were uncertain. According to Orwell, Aria could break free at any moment.
"Let's go. I'm not afraid!" Orwell said with determination.
Damn right, you're not afraid—Aria and Lucky won't harm you. But if the two of us went and something went wrong, we could end up eaten alive.
Orwell didn't care about us. He ran toward the mountains alone. But since he'd paid, I couldn't just abandon him. Gritting my teeth, I stomped my foot and followed. Stein, the timid goat, trailed behind me, hiding in my shadow.
At first, nothing strange happened. But halfway there, countless voices suddenly rang in our ears.
"Hey, dummy!"
"Hah, fool, you're back!"
"Idiot, where are you going?"
The voices were eerie, like echoes, accompanied by gusts of gloomy wind that sent chills down my spine. Even creepier, I felt like countless people were standing by the roadside watching us, their sinister eyes glowing in the darkness.
"No, I'm not stupid! I'm not!" Orwell, upon hearing these voices, suddenly bolted like a madman—whether out of fear or some unseen trigger, he ran wildly without even screaming.
Stranger still, Stein suddenly surged forward from behind as if he had grown an extra pair of legs, keeping pace with Orwell in an instant and leaving me behind.
What the hell? Did this short guy take some kind of drug? How did he suddenly run so fast?
But soon, I realized something was wrong. Something seemed to be chasing me from behind. Unable to resist, I glanced back—only to see a blood-drenched figure, its skin completely peeled off, leaving nothing but raw, pulpy flesh clinging to its frame like a grotesque paste. The sight was horrifying beyond words.
Wasn't this… the dead man under the bed earlier? How did he crawl out?!
I could swear this man was a hundred million percent dead. With that much blood loss and no treatment, not even a god could still be alive.
So now… what was he?
"Dammit, Stein! Why didn't you warn me something was chasing us?!" I cursed loudly and sprinted faster, but the thing behind me clung like a vengeful ghost. Thankfully, I was still ahead.
Stein, though, couldn't keep up—his burst of speed was short-lived, and he lagged behind. Luckily, once we passed the village monument, the creature stopped chasing and simply stood there, watching.
Even more terrifying—behind it stood a crowd of people, old and young, tall and short, all dressed in tattered old clothes, grinning at us.
And now, the village monument bore countless bloody handprints—where before, there had only been one.