Jon clearly remembered that when he filled the dog bowl, it was completely empty.
He took the note off the bottom, finding it covered in scribbled, blurry writing.
Most of the content was hard to decipher, but Jon managed to make out a few useful pieces of information.
The note read:
"...happy to see you... I get weak when sick, don't... hurt you... stay away from me. Grandma is dead... the ranger can help you, he also wants..."
"Wants what?"
Jon puzzled over the note, feeling confused.
Clearly, this was a message from the dog.
He had noticed before that the dog sometimes seemed to understand him, almost as if it had intelligence.
Now it was confirmed. If the dog could write, it must have once been a human.
Grandma's Rule 9 also hinted at this: "The dog is part of our family, treat him well."
This wasn't a mistake or a result of cognitive pollution.
Grandma was suggesting that the dog used to be a person.
Jon stood up and walked into the living room. The dimly lit cabin was filled with the crackling sound of the fire in the fireplace.
The dog was curled up by the fire, nose tucked under its tail, sleeping.
Jon, wrapped in a blanket, sat on the sofa and softly asked, "Hey, can you understand me now?"
The dog twitched its ears.
It clearly heard Jon but made no other response.
Jon didn't press further. Perhaps during dinner, the dog had regained some of its consciousness and left the pre-prepared note.
Maybe it knew Jon might come to visit Grandma.
Everything, from Grandma's letter to the house's setup, had been pre-arranged.
The player, stepping into this midway, had no memories of being the "grandson." so everything still felt like a fog.
The cabin, Grandma, the dog, "it." and even himself—all held many secrets.
Jon recalled the rules introduced during the entrance exam:
The player with the highest score upon clearing the level, as well as the first player to clear it, would receive additional rewards.
Like most guys, Jon was a gaming enthusiast.
He genuinely loved meticulously designed, mind-bending, and gripping puzzle games.
In some games, achieving a perfect clear required multiple playthroughs, peeling back layers to uncover the full truth.
Jon understood that to achieve the highest score, he would need to uncover all the secrets.
He stood up, wrapped in his blanket. "Ah, this is getting more and more interesting."
Jon glanced at the clock on the wall.
It was now 10 PM, time for bed.
He estimated that a fully stoked fireplace could burn for 1 to 2 hours.
Getting up in the middle of the night to add wood was impractical, but once the bed was warm, it wouldn't be too cold.
He picked up the prepared firewood and added it all to the fireplace. There was plenty of wood in the basement, enough to last the seven days he needed to stay.
Tomorrow, he'd make an automatic wood-feeding device to keep the cabin warm through the night.
Jon picked up the candlestick and began to ascend the stairs, step by step.
The flickering candlelight twisted his shadow into strange shapes. The cabin at night was eerily quiet, Jon could hear his own heartbeat and the creaking of the old wooden floorboards under his feet.
He reached the hallway on the second floor.
Suddenly stopped, he took off his shoes and cautiously took a few steps.
"Creak, creak."
Jon abruptly looked up at the ceiling.
In the candlelight, a thin layer of dust drifted down from above.
The creaking sound of footsteps had come from the attic.
Could "it" have a physical form now?
Jon was a bit surprised. During the day, "it" had always appeared as an object.
The sound just now seemed to follow his movements exactly.
"It" was right above the ceiling, mirroring his every step, even matching his pace.
"Hmph, trying to spook me." Jon scoffed.
He walked into his room and got under the covers.
The night seemed colder, but the fireplace had warmed the entire cabin.
The fireplace was directly below his and Grandma's rooms.
The cabin was designed with heating in mind, the chimney ran through the second-floor walls, transferring heat to the upstairs rooms.
Jon lay in bed, and sleepiness gradually overtook him.
Planning to catch some rest while the night was still calm, he soon dozed off.
He had a premonition from the dog's message and the rules he found in the wooden block that something would definitely happen tonight.
Soon, Jon fell into a deep sleep.
...
In the same exam room, Jon was the only one lying in bed.
Player 2, Tony, had been frightened by cognitive pollution and fell to his death in the cellar, losing his second chance at revival.
His current state was even worse, with a ghastly pale complexion.
Revival in the eerie story challenge didn't restore players to normal health, it merely sustained their vital signs at the bare minimum.
In simple terms, it was like hanging by a thread, just enough to keep them alive.
Tony was not only in poor mental condition but also suffered from a mild concussion.
As he stood in the cellar, gathering firewood, a sudden wave of dizziness hit him.
He stumbled and nearly tumbled down the stairs again.
This sight made his classmates watching the live feed extremely anxious.
Fearing he might waste his last revival chance for no reason.
"Damn it, how did I get so unlucky..." Tony muttered a curse under his breath as he finally made it out of the cellar.
He went to the fireplace, lit the firewood, fetched some water, and started making dinner.
The dog, smelling the food, crept out from under the sofa. It looked at Tony with a mix of eagerness and apprehension, not daring to get too close.
Tony had vented all his frustration from losing his first revival chance on the dog.
After being kicked by Tony in Grandma's room, the dog had been avoiding him ever since.
Tony glanced at the dog, then picked up a spoon and fished out a piece of meat from the pot.
"Come here, little thing."
The dog looked down at the meat, then up at Tony. Starving, it reluctantly chose to move forward. Tony tossed the small piece of meat near the cellar entrance. "Don't be scared, come and eat."
Just as the dog ran over and was about to pick up the meat.
Tony kicked it hard, sending it tumbling down the cellar stairs. The dog's painful yelps echoed from below.
With a cold smirk, Tony said, "This mutt is definitely suspicious. Better to keep it locked in the cellar."
He shut the cellar door and went on eating his dinner.
...
Player 3, Leon, had already finished his dinner.
He carried the dog upstairs to sleep.
Although he had wasted a hint early on, things had gone relatively smoothly afterward.
Leon's classmates, watching the live stream, felt that the hint hadn't been wasted when they saw the dire situations of Players 2 and 4.
Leon closed his bedroom door and put the dog on the bed.
In a locked room on the second floor, he had found a note listing many rules.
Among them, Grandma advised locking the door before bed and keeping the dog with him for safety throughout the night.
"Let's get some sleep! Goodnight, Buddy."
Leon lay down, covering the dog with a blanket to keep it warm.
The dog's scent gave him a sense of security, and he quickly drifted off to sleep.
But the dog showed no intention of sleeping. Its eyes remained wide open, staring intently at Leon.
In his sleep, Leon felt a bit cold and reached out to hug the dog tightly.
Unnoticeable energy began to flow rapidly from his body into the dog's.
The dog's fur started to grow quickly, its sharp canine teeth protruding from its lips. Its limbs began to lengthen and it started to look more and more human...
No.
Rather than human...
"Werwolf" seemed a more fitting term.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
Like it ? Add to library!
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.