Don't Spend Your Night Here

Here's the continuation rewritten in the eerie, psychological tone of My House of Terrors, with the lush, atmospheric detail of Harry Potter. Chen Ge's encounter with Wang Qi deepens the apartment's sinister mystique, weaving a web of dread and spectral intrigue:

"Don't leap to shadows, Chen Ge," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "The landlord's a queer fish, but that doesn't brand him a killer." Suspicion gnawed, yet reason clawed back. "Tenants might spill more—time to dig."

Since crossing the threshold of Ping An Apartments, four souls had crossed his path: the skittish woman veiled behind her door; Wang Qi, plastering his desperate notices; the surly, limping landlord; and the wheezing old man in his wheelchair. The old codger's tethered to the landlord—untouchable. That first-floor wench gives me the creeps. Leaves Wang Qi—he's got to know something.

He stashed the water bottle in Room 208, locked the door with a dull click, and descended. The voice-activated light flickered to life, bathing the corridor in a sickly glow. Wang Qi shuffled ahead, cradling his stack of notices like a relic, slipping one beneath each door—occupied or not. Chen Ge's brow furrowed. Missing posters belong on bustling streets, not this forsaken tomb. Why here?

He shadowed the man silently, a wraith in pursuit, until Wang Qi slid the final notice home. "Brother," Chen Ge ventured, voice soft as a crypt's whisper, "I get it—losing someone you love. But don't torment yourself with these futile rites."

Wang Qi pivoted slowly, his clouded eyes adrift, unable to anchor. "Get it? None of you could fathom my pain—nor do I beg you to." His voice rasped, a blade on stone.

Chen Ge sidestepped the mire of pity, pulling his phone to summon a photo—the police report from his parents' vanishing six months past. "I'm not spinning tales. My folks blinked out half a year ago. I wallowed too, at first."

Wang Qi stared at the screen, silence stretching like a taut thread, then broke it. "I feel for you, but our plights diverge. My fiancée will return—I sense she's near."

"Tell me your tale?" Chen Ge pressed, surprised by his own sincerity. "We're kin in loss—maybe I can help."

Hesitation flickered in Wang Qi's gaze, softening as memory tugged—Chen Ge's earlier kindness, perhaps. "Thanks, but you can't. You're decent, lad—so heed me: flee while you've got legs. Don't bed down here!"

"Paid up already," Chen Ge countered. "Give me a solid reason to bolt—this Trial Mission's my stake. I can't ditch it." Failure meant kissing Murder by Midnight goodbye forever.

"Life or coin—which weighs more?" Wang Qi scanned the gloom, then hushed his tone. "Everyone here knows blood's stained this place."

"Heard whispers," Chen Ge said, "but the web's dry—no records. Sounds like gossip."

"It was Fu An Apartments once," Wang Qi murmured. "Name swapped to Ping An after the killings—big news, unsolved still. The dead linger, unavenged, haunting their graves at midnight." Belief burned in his words.

"Ghost yarns at our age?" Chen Ge forced a crooked grin, masking the ice in his veins. He knew the other side's truth too well—spirits were no mere tales. Another brush with them was the last thing he craved.

"Didn't buy it either," Wang Qi said, tugging his hair in anguish, exhaustion carved deep. "Not 'til my fiancée vanished here."

"Why'd she come to this pit?" Chen Ge leaned in, curiosity spiking—her fate echoed his parents' too closely.

"Don't know, honestly. Never heard of this hole 'til she was gone. Police named it—said her trail died here." His hands slackened, strands dangling like wilted vines. "Out of moves, I settled in."

"Find anything?"

Wang Qi's mouth parted, then clamped shut. He fished out his phone, typing swiftly: "My fiancée's been snatched by folk here!"

Chen Ge gaped, stunned. "Brother, kidnapping's a far cry from disappearing."

"Shh!" Wang Qi hissed, back to the corridor, flipping the screen. Chen Ge's eyes widened at the inbox—a message from her: "Save me!" Sent at 2 a.m. last night.

"A missing soul texting SOS past midnight?" Shock ebbed to calm as Chen Ge processed. "Why not run to the cops? She's alive!"

"You'll scoff, but hear me: every night past twelve, she sends this. Always 'Save me!'—but come dawn, it's gone, like a dream scrubbed clean." He jabbed at his bloodshot eyes. "Been awake 24 hours to trap this one."

"Vanishes when you sleep?" Chen Ge's mind whirled—uncharted territory, even for him.

"Call me mad, but it's gospel." Wang Qi sagged against the wall, pocketing the device. "Weirder still—her things pop up in my room, unbidden. Like she's prodding me to hunt her."

Chen Ge's lids twitched. His recent tangles with the uncanny screamed the truth: Wang Qi's fiancée hadn't vanished—she'd met doom, turned specter, and now haunted him. Unless he's spinning lies.

"She went missing here, and this place warped my life," Wang Qi rasped, pale as death from the effort. "It's cursed—riddled with vile ghosts. Misery stalks the curious. Get out while you can."