When I used to watch horror movies, every time I saw someone encounter a ghost, they would collapse in fear, unable to run away, and I always wanted to curse at them for being idiots. I never believed people could be that stupid—so stupid that even when they knew there was danger, they still didn’t try to escape. But now that I’ve experienced it myself, I finally understand: when a person is in extreme terror, they really can be paralyzed with fear. You want to run, but your legs just won’t move—just like me right now.

Fortunately, I don’t have a heart condition, or else I’d probably have been scared to death by now. But even so, I probably won’t live much longer, because the two of them have already come right up to me.

“Eric, you finally came... hee hee...”

Little Clark’s face was as pale as paper, completely bloodless, with two streams of blood trailing from the corners of his eyes. Under the light of the white lantern, he looked even more terrifying and ghastly. As he spoke, his mouth twisted into a sinister grin. I was all too familiar with that creepy smile—wasn’t that the same expression they had when they died? Old Smith’s death face looked exactly like this.

I felt like my heart was about to leap out of my chest. I flailed my arms wildly and shouted at them, “Don’t come any closer! You’re fucking dead already, what the hell do you want from me...”

“Eric, I’m so lonely down there. We’ve played together since we were kids—only you can keep me company now...”

Little Clark said this in a ghostly, chilling tone, his mouth curling into a sinister smile, making him look even more eerie and terrifying.

Old Smith also beckoned to me, “Eric, come on, your time in the living world is up. We’re here to take you down with us.”

I was so scared I started crying, sobbing and yelling at the same time, “Get lost! Get the fuck away from me! I’ve got no grudge against you, why are you coming after me, fuck...”

If anyone saw me at that moment, they’d definitely think I was insane, because I was flailing my arms and legs, crying and shouting, looking just like a madman.

Little Clark said in a sinister voice, “Eric, so you really don’t want to come with us?”

I shouted, “Go fuck yourself! Don’t come after me, I’m begging you, please, don’t come after me, sob...”

But after exchanging a glance, Little Clark and Old Smith both grinned wickedly, then lunged at me, reaching out with both hands and grabbing my neck...

Looking at their ferocious, unfamiliar faces, feeling those icy cold hands around my neck, and the terrifying suffocating sensation that followed, my eyes bulged out. I knew it was all over—I was really going to die!

I was truly terrified. I wanted to struggle, but Little Clark’s cold, big hands were like iron clamps, locking tightly around my neck. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out, and my whole face turned a dark, liver-red from lack of air.

Just as I was on the brink of despair, I suddenly remembered that Michael Bolton had given me a business card, with a talisman drawn on the back. Michael Bolton once said that as long as I had the card, no ghost could harm me.

Maybe when people are desperate, they’ll cling to any shred of hope, no matter how slim, and won’t give up easily! Even though I knew full well that Michael Bolton was a lunatic, I still wanted to try it before I died—what if the card he gave me could actually save me?

Thinking of this, I didn’t care about anything else. My survival instinct made me reach into my pocket, grab the card, and slap it right onto Little Clark, who was strangling me!

That slap made all the difference. Instantly, a golden light burst from the card, and I heard Little Clark let out a miserable scream as he was blasted away by the golden light.

I was completely stunned, but quickly snapped out of it, my heart surging with wild joy. So Michael Bolton wasn’t lying after all—the talisman on his card really worked! I couldn’t help but feel a deep respect for Michael Bolton!

With this discovery, I was instantly excited. Gasping for breath, I shouted at Old Smith, who was still standing in front of me, “Fuck you! Go to hell!”

With that, I slapped the card at Old Smith. When Old Smith saw the talisman on the card, he instinctively tried to run, but he was a step too slow and got hit by the card. Just like Little Clark, he was blasted away, a charred black patch burning on his chest, still smoking. Of course, the card in my hand was also burned to a crisp.

Seeing the card destroyed, my courage, which had just swelled, instantly plummeted to rock bottom. I didn’t dare hesitate for a second—I turned and ran.

I ran all the way down the street. Looking back, thankfully, Little Clark and Old Smith hadn’t caught up yet—maybe they were hurt just now. But I didn’t dare relax for a moment, because I knew if they caught up, and I didn’t have the card anymore, I’d really be dead.

Just then, I suddenly saw a bus up ahead, with a long line of about twenty or thirty people boarding one after another.

Finally, I saw people. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, feeling a bit more secure, and hurriedly ran toward the line up ahead...