Part 1Whspers Under The Bed

In the dead of night, I was jolted awake by a loud snoring sound.

I was alone in my flat—how could there be a man snoring?

Suddenly, I remembered a film where a man was hiding under a woman’s bed…

I immediately picked up my phone to call Tom, but my best friend Rachel texted me just then: "Don’t trust your boyfriend; he’s going to kill you!"

At midnight, I was awoken by the sound of snoring.

Groggy and half-asleep, I instinctively thought it was Tom, but then I remembered we had just had an argument and he hadn’t come to see me tonight.

I sat up in shock.

The snoring stopped abruptly.

I quickly turned on the light.

I lived in a single room flat of about twenty square meters, and it was clear there was no one else in sight.

Could I have been dreaming just now?

But the snoring had been so vivid and real.

At this point, I hadn’t thought much about it and assumed it was just my stress from work causing hallucinations. I went to the bathroom and then back to bed.

I didn’t turn off the light; after all, that snoring had been far too real, and I felt a bit scared. The light gave me a semblance of comfort.

But just as I lay down, the snoring began again.

This time, it was so clear, it felt as if it was right next to me!

I was truly terrified; my heart skipped a beat.

I sat up again, and the snoring disappeared once more.

I sat there, dumbfounded.

Then I remembered the film about a man hiding under a woman’s bed…

If that snoring was real and so close, then the person making that sound had to be in the room!

If I couldn’t see them, they must be… hiding under the bed!

I grabbed my phone to call the police.

But what if the snoring was just a figment of my imagination? How would I explain that to the police when they arrived?

I glanced around the room and found only a pair of scissors for protection, so I picked them up and opened the door, ready to flee at any moment.

In the end, I grabbed a clothes pole and reached under the bed, sweeping left and right.

The clothes pole didn’t touch anything.

I finally breathed a sigh of relief, summoning the courage to lift the bed sheet that touched the floor.

Under the bed was nothing but a thick layer of dust.

Only then did I feel reassured and let out a long sigh.

It seemed it had indeed been my imagination.

I closed the door and lay back down, trying to sleep; the snoring didn’t return.

But just as I was about to doze off, my smart speaker suddenly chimed:

“Game on, please answer the question. Is she virtual?”

What was happening?

Had I mumbled in my sleep? Or was it malfunctioning?

So I shouted, “Smart speaker, shut up!”

It seemed to malfunction and didn’t receive my command; instead, it continued: “Is she female?”

The smart speaker was right by my bedside, and I grabbed it to try to turn it off, but no matter how I pressed the buttons, it wouldn’t respond.

“Is she from a Japanese anime?”

“Is she from a novel?”

…

This was definitely not a hallucination, nor was it a dream!

Then I recalled the snoring, and a chilling conclusion hit me—there was something unclean in this room!

For the first time in my life, I felt such intense fear!

Run!

That was the only thought in my mind!

I didn’t even have time to put on shoes, wrapped in my pajamas, I bolted out of the flat.

I lived on the 25th floor, and the lift was still on the 1st floor.

I thought about taking the stairs, but the corridor was too dark, and I was too scared to go.

I wanted to call the police, but how could I explain this to them?

In the end, I trembled as I took out my phone to call Rachel.

But she hung up immediately and soon replied with a text: “What’s wrong?”

I figured she might not be able to take the call, so I replied that I was encountering a ghost and needed her to come save me.

As I typed, my hands shook, and I wasn’t sure how many typos I made in that simple sentence. But I knew she would understand.

Just then, the lift arrived, and I hurried in, pressing the door close button.

As soon as the doors closed, they opened again.

But the corridor was empty; there was nothing there.