First Frost

Canto 1: Depraved Street

~
The dim glow of the laptop screen illuminated Wen Yifan’s tired face. A rare day off, she’d decided to indulge in a late-night horror flick. Eerie music pulsed through her headphones, punctuated by blood-curdling screams. She rolled her eyes, the familiar plot unfolding before her.

Only her compulsive need to finish what she started kept her glued to the screen.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the final credits rolled. Her eyelids drooped, heavy with exhaustion. Just as she was drifting off, a thunderous knock shattered the silence.

The knock echoed through the quiet night, a sharp, insistent sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

The pale moonlight streamed through the gap in the curtain blinds, casting a silvery glow over the room. Wen Yifan snapped her eyes open. She could hear a man's drunken slur as he stumbled away from her door, his footsteps fading into the distance. Then, another door opened and closed, and the disturbance finally subsided.

Even so, she continued staring at the door, dazed for a few more seconds. When everything finally quieted down, she heaved a sigh of relief before a wave of anger washed over her. She’d lost count of how many times this had happened that week. Fully awake now, it was difficult to fall back asleep. She rolled over and closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to the movie she’d seen earlier.

Oh.

Was that really a horror film?

A second-rate, low-budget film that was barely entertaining.

As her consciousness drifted away, the grotesque monster from the movie suddenly flashed into her mind. Three seconds later, she jolted upright and switched on the bedside lamps.

Wen Yifan spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed. The creepy image of the blood-dripping ghost wouldn’t leave her alone. It wasn’t until the first rays of dawn that she finally drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Wen Yifan was awakened by her ringing phone. Her head throbbed from lack of sleep, and her mind felt as if it were pierced by thousands of needles. Frustrated, she reached for her phone and answered the call. Her best friend Zhong Siqiao’s muffled voice came from the other end, “I’ll call you back later.”

“...”

Wen Yifan’s eyelids fluttered, her brain freezing for a moment. Waking her up with a phone call? That was bad enough. But it wasn’t even the main event, just a warm-up.

Her morning anger instantly flared, and she blurted out, “Are you trying to…” Before she could finish, the call had already ended. It felt like punching a pillow. Wen Yifan opened her eyes, feeling deflated. After a few more moments in bed, she picked up her phone and checked the time.

It was nearly two in the afternoon. Wen Yifan didn't linger in bed any longer. She threw on a jacket and got out of bed.
She walked into the bathroom. As Wen Yifan was brushing her teeth, her phone rang again. She freed one hand to answer the call on speaker.

Zhong Siqiao began, “Damn it, I just ran into a high school classmate. I had greasy hair and no makeup on. It was so embarrassing!”

“You are so dramatic,” Wen Yifan mumbled, her words muffled by toothpaste foam. “Aren’t you just fishing for sympathy?”

“...” Zhong Siqiao was silent for a moment, not bothering to argue. “Want to go out tonight, Reporter Wen? You’ve been working overtime for a week straight. If you don’t find some fun, I’m afraid you’ll die from overwork.”

“Hmm, where to?”

“How about near your workplace? I don’t know if you’ve been there before. My colleague says there’s a bar there, and the owner is incredible—” Zhong Siqiao said, “Hey, why do I keep hearing water? Are you washing dishes?”