Ghost Behind You

1.28. The Journal (2)

Mary's sudden appearance left Rose utterly confused, but one look at those terrifying, blackened eyes made her realize this wasn't the Mary she knew. Zach's words from earlier echoed in her mind: "We're too late." A deep sense of dread crept over her—had Lana done something to Mary?

"What's wrong with you?" Rose asked softly, trying to stay calm. "Are you really Mary?" She was now certain that Mary had been possessed by Gary's ghost. This strange behavior wasn't coming from Mary herself.

Mary, now looking like a complete stranger, remained silent. She hadn't spoken a word since entering the room, and Rose had no idea what her next move might be. Her instincts screamed that Mary meant her harm. Rose kept her eyes on Mary's every movement, particularly her right hand, which was hidden behind her back—perhaps holding a weapon. The overpowering scent of blood that had filled Rose's mind earlier was starting to fade, but it seemed to be coming from Mary.

They stood in tense silence for a few moments until, suddenly, Mary collapsed as if all her strength had drained away. With a clatter, a fruit knife slipped from her hand onto the floor.

Rose rushed forward, catching Mary before she hit the ground, and kicked the knife away. She carefully laid her friend on the bed. Mary appeared to be peacefully asleep now, her breathing steady and calm, showing no signs of consciousness. Rose lifted Mary's eyelids and was relieved to see that her eyes had returned to normal. A deep sigh escaped her.

Turning to the empty room, Rose spoke softly into the air, "Gary, is that you? Are you under Lana's control? Please, don't haunt her anymore. Go where you need to go. Don't hurt her."

Her voice echoed in the quiet room, and for a moment, Rose felt a bit foolish, talking to an empty space. She glanced around, hoping for some kind of response, but the silence remained. Feeling defeated, she looked down at Mary, still sound asleep, and clearly not waking up anytime soon.

Now that the tension had passed, Rose felt the weight of exhaustion settle over her. She yawned and picked up her notebook, intending to jot down the events that had just transpired. But as she opened the notebook, she froze. Scrawled across the page in a crooked, uneven hand was a single word: "Go".

Rose knew she hadn't written that. Even on a bumpy bus, her handwriting would never look this messy. She snapped her head up, scanning the room again—was this Gary's response? Had her words reached him? She stared at the writing, puzzled. The script didn't seem like it had been made with a regular pen—it was a clue, something that could be analyzed later. She could take it to the university and have it examined: how had the writing appeared? What had left the mark? Perhaps, like with anonymous letters, she could trace Gary's ghostly presence through this writing.

The idea sent a thrill through Rose. Maybe she could see Gary if she focused. She placed her hand gently on the notebook, concentrating on the technique Zach had taught her. She imagined herself connecting with the swirling letters, closing her eyes.

A blinding white light flashed through her mind, making her instinctively want to shield her eyes. But she quickly realized it was the imprint left by the writing. Rose steadied herself, and the image in her mind slowly came into focus. A pale face appeared—Gary. He didn't look much different from when he was alive, except now his skin was deathly white and his right hand was disfigured. Rose couldn't make out exactly what he was doing, but she recognized her surroundings: she and Mary were on the bed, and her own voice echoed in her ears: "Don't hurt her anymore..."

As quickly as it had come, the image vanished. The vision flickered briefly, then dissolved into darkness.

Now, in front of Rose, there was a pink travel bag, covered in dust. It was exactly like the one she had seen in her dream, though in her vision, the bag had been newer and brighter. Clearly, it had been abandoned in the storage shed for quite some time.

"This is it," Rose said. "Did you see the ghost standing on the bag?"

"Yeah, it was Liu Huiquan—the 'Footstep Monster.' He was guiding you earlier, but at night he's one of Lana's helpers," Zach explained. "But he didn't attack me this time—the deal worked." He gestured toward Mary, still unconscious on the bed. "Did she come up here on her own?"

"She was possessed," Rose said, pointing at the fruit knife on the floor. "She had a knife. Was she going to attack me?"

"Before the deal, she was under Gary's control. He was trying to kill you. I was worried for a bit, but now it's fine," Zach said casually, as if the danger had already passed.

"You knew this the whole time? Why didn't you tell me?" Rose's voice rose in anger. "She's my best friend! If something had happened to her because of me, I'd never forgive myself. You should have told me!"

"Well, at the time you were barely holding it together," Zach said, defending his actions. "And she wasn't in real danger—just possessed. I didn't want you getting distracted."

"Next time, you tell me everything," Rose demanded, her voice cold.

Zach didn't argue. He just waved her off and knelt beside the bag, ready to open it.

"I'll do it," Rose said, stepping forward quickly. "It could be important evidence. Let me handle it. Pass me the gloves."

Inside, the bag was a mess of clothes, towels, medications, and other personal items. Some of the clothes had already begun to mold from being neglected so long. All the garments were women's, likely Lana's, and most were simple and inexpensive. After rummaging through the pile, Rose finally uncovered a thick, hard-covered journal buried at the bottom.

This was it—the journal. After all their efforts, they had finally found the key to unlocking Lana's secrets. Rose opened to the first page, and in neat handwriting were the words: Private Diary, Please Do Not Read—Lana Chao Adams.