Chapter 320
Chapter 320 Don’t Use Your Phone at Night
Grace could not spare a moment to take a second look, as the elderly woman vanished in an instant,
and she was swiftly pushed back onto the bed.
Quinnie scolded her angrily, “Gracie, don’t you care about your life? Who allowed you to get out of
bed? Seems like you haven’t bled enough!”
Grace pursed her lips, choosing to remain silent
Late at night, in a rented room in a particr neighborhood, a young girl sat on the bed, swiping
through her mobile phone when she suddenly sensed something peculiar.
Switching on the light, she rose from the bed and cautiously moved around the house, sniffing the air
as she walked.
“Strange, where did the smell of dead micee from…” she muttered to herself.
She swept the broom under the bed, only finding a few stray hairpins and coins that had rolled
underneath.
There’s nothing here!” she concluded with a frown, shaking her head.
Then she sniffed the air once more, the odor had mysteriously vanished.
“It’s really strange,” the girl muttered to herself. “I’ll have to ask thendlord toe and take a look.
another day.”
With that thought, she switched off the light and settled back onto the bed, engrossed in her phone.
Now and then, she burst intoughter, the glow from the phone’s screen casting an eerie light on her
face.
Unbeknownst to her, a girl stood silently behind her, her head lowered and her hair covering her face.
She gazed intently at the screen of the phone, mirroring the girl’s actions and asionally shing a
grin of her own. Yet, the girl remainedpletely oblivious to the presence behind her.
“Recently, there have been reports at Olivine Temple saying that dolls made by Spring Friends were
made of ashes…”
The girl let out a startled “Huh” as she came across something unexpected in the middle of the night.
She quickly swiped away, feeling a slight sense of unease. Late–night browsing often leads to
stumbling upon various content, ranging from tantalizing culinary delights to DIY tips and even horror
short videos.
As she continued scrolling, she encountered a series of videos titled “Do not watch this video at night”
She hastily turned off her mobile phone, feeling a sense of unease creeping up within her. “Don’t watch
it, -don’t watch it. It’s scary,” she muttered to herself, trying to brush off the unsettling thoughts. She
casually
tossed her phone to the end of the bed, practicing good health” habits by keeping it away from her
sleeping area to minimize radiation exposure.
As the girl closed her eyes, ready to drift off to sleep, a peculiar odor wafted through the air–an
unmistakable scent of decaying mice, growing increasingly distinct and pervasive.
She hugged her nker tightly and turned over, reaching out to adjust the air conditioner to a cool 18
degrees.
Feeling theforting breeze, she nestled back into her quilt, the chill in the air dispersing any
lingering traces of the unpleasant odor.
Feeling relieved, the girl found sce in the coolness and gradually drifted off to sleep.
As the night grew darker, the girl wrapped herself tightly in the quilt, but an unusual chill seemed to
permeate the air. Despite theforting hum of the air conditioner, she couldn’t shake off the growing
sensation of coldness.
It was amon experience for many people to feel colder in the middle of the night when sleeping
with the air conditioner on. The initial coolness that provided relief gradually gives way to a perceived
drop in temperature as the body adjusts and bes more sensitive to the cooler environment.
The girl reluctantly forced herself out of bed as the rm clock red. Rubbing her eyes, she could not
help butin about the early morning routine.
“I’m so tired. Why do I have to go to work? I need more sleep. From now on, I should avoid using my
phone at night and make sure to go to bed before ten o’clock!” she groaned.
Realizing the importance of a good night’s sleep, she resolved to establish healthy sleep habits and
prioritize her rest.
She never kept her word.
Sheined as she got up to brush her teeth and wash her face, and then she smelled the stench
again.
As she opened the closet to change her clothes, the odor grew more intense.
“Furious, where could this dead mouse smell being from…”
The girl diligently investigated the source of the scent, and her gazended on the bottom of the
wardrobe.
This particr wardrobe is of an antique design, and at its base is a built–inpartment connected to
the floor.
When the girl rented the house, thendlord mentioned the presence of misceneous items in the
closet and advised her not to move them.
The girl smirked and muttered, “There’s a dead mouse in there.”
Frustrated, she grumbled and called herndlord.
N?velDrama.Org: text ? owner.
Having extra storage space for misceneous items was eptable; she did not mind the surplus
cabs.
However, when it came to dealing with dead mice, they had to be removed!
“Hey… Landlord, when are you nning toe and check out the wardrobe?” the girl asked while
changing her clothes.
Thendlord seemed startled, and hurriedly asked, “Did you open it?”
The girl shook her head, “No.”
Having a strong aversion to meddling with other people’s belongings, the girl refrained from touching
the closet, as explicitly instructed by thendlord.
Furthermore, the wardrobe was securely locked, and shecked both the inclination and time to
attempt. to pick the lock.
Thendlord warned her. “I’m currently away on a business trip, and I’ll address the issue upon my
return. Please refrain from touching it. There are someputer essories stored inside, and if they
get damaged, I won’t be able to handle the matter.”
Acknowledging thendlord’s response, the girl expressed her impatience, urging him to hurry back.
Then ended the call.
Gazing at the wardrobe, she retrieved her perfume and sprayed it inside, hoping to mask the repugnant
combination of scents between the perfume and the stench of the dead mice.
However, finding the resulting mixture even more unpleasant, she resorted to sealing the edges and
seams of the closet using glue.
“I guess this should be fine…” she murmured.
The odor appeared to have diminishedpared to earlier. In a rush, the girl hurriedly prepared for
work, slipping on her high heels, and hastily left.
Unbeknownst to her, inside the closet, several skirts were serenely suspended from the clothes rail. At
the very end, a girl with hair cascading over her cheeks eerily hovered in the air.
“Tiffy…” The girl said quietly, “Why are you going to work again? I’m so bored at home…”
Raising her head slightly, she unveiled a visage marked by tragic gashes.
I’ve been trapped inside the closet all this time, and you sealed me away, you don’t even know I exist,”
shemented.
The female ghost emerged from the closet, drifting aimlessly throughout the room. She seemed eerily
acquainted with her surroundings, mimicking the girl’s habitual footsteps. She lingered in the kitchen for
a moment, positioning herself beside the pot.
With hands gently folded once more, as if cradling an imaginary bowl of noodles, the ghost settled onto
he sofa.
Remaining in that position, she fixed her gaze directly upon the coffee table positioned in front of her,
her
yes unwavering.