Lin Ze's livestream went black. His screen froze on that final, haunting message:
[She's already with you now.]
And then… nothing.
That night, Lin Ze disappeared.
No one could reach him. His phone was off. His social media accounts remained inactive.
Police scoured the haunted Bukit Tunku hillside.
All they found was his phone—lying beneath the banana tree, directly under the old rattan chair.
The red string bracelet that he had worn on his wrist was carefully looped around the phone's cracked screen.
And faintly etched onto the chair's back, written in dried blood:
[Take one soul, leave one behind.]
Across the city, people whispered about Lin Ze's final livestream.
Some said their phones wouldn't turn off after watching it.
Others claimed their doors knocked at exactly 3 a.m., but when they opened them, no one was there—only a single jasmine flower on the doorstep.
The police could only classify it as another missing person case.
But online, a terrifying theory spread:
The livestream wasn't over. It never really ended.
Day Seven…
Just when everyone thought things had quieted down, Lin Ze's livestream account suddenly went online again—without anyone logging in.
At exactly midnight, his account status changed to LIVE.
Hundreds of thousands of terrified followers flocked back to the stream.
The screen remained pitch black for several long minutes before a faint, flickering light appeared.
A small, orange glow—a single candle.
The camera zoomed in.
Viewers held their breath.
The candle sat in the middle of a dim, unfamiliar room.
And behind it… stood a figure.
A man, with his head bowed, standing motionless.
As the camera moved closer, the chat exploded:
[Bullet Comments]
"Is that… Lin Ze?!"
"He's alive?!"
"NO! Look at his feet! They're not touching the ground!!"
The camera angle shifted slightly.
It was Lin Ze.
But something was horribly wrong.
His face was deathly pale, eyes dull and empty. His lips were split into a grotesque, unnatural smile, and faint traces of black blood dripped from the corners of his mouth.
And behind him…
A white figure slowly stepped into view.
The woman in white.
Her head tilted at an unnatural angle, her long, wet hair clinging to her face.
Her hands rested gently on Lin Ze's shoulders.
She looked directly into the camera.
And then she smiled.
---
Across thousands of homes, the viewers' phones began to vibrate simultaneously.
Their screens showed a new message:
[The next livestream will begin… in your home.]
And with that, every viewer's phone camera turned on automatically.
Through their own screens, they saw their rooms—live.
And in the background of those camera feeds…
The faint scent of jasmine filled the air.
The sound of bare feet softly padded across their floors.
And then, that soft, familiar laughter echoed in their ears:
"Hehehe…"
---
End of Chapter 4