Oh gosh, Monkey, you absolute dolt! If his limbs weren't shaking like a flobberworm on a broomstick, he'd have slapped himself silly. Note to self: no more jinxing your own luck in a Haunted House—ever!
Stranded like a lost first-year in the depths of the Slytherin dungeons, Monkey stood alone in the corridor's gloom—cut off from his crew, no backup in sight. A psycho with a hammer could lunge from the shadows any second, and those blasted dolls? They popped up wherever he turned, like cursed portraits with a grudge. This wasn't just a scare-fest; it was a full-on descent into the seventh circle of spooky hell! His breaths came ragged, chest heaving. "Why's it here? When'd it tail me? How's it moving?!"
Questions swarmed his brain like a horde of Cornish pixies, smashing his cool to bits. His phone trembled in his grip—hands jittering worse than a wand misfiring a levitation charm.
"Monkey! Where are you?! Save me—the dolls in here, they're watching me! I swear it!" Shi Ling's voice screeched through the line, a banshee on the brink. She sounded two steps from a padded cell.
"Sis, I'd save you in a heartbeat, but who's saving me?!" Monkey yelped, stumbling back from the doll at his feet. Something snagged his ankle—he froze, glancing down. That ragdoll, once half a meter off, now sprawled by his shoe—black hair spilling like a potions spill, too real, too alive. Its charred face tilted up, features melted into ruin, yet… it's smiling?!
His brain short-circuited. Why am I seeing this? Logic fled—ten minutes in this madhouse had his sanity dangling by a thread. Biting his lip, he nudged his foot to flee, but—ow, bloody hell!—his calf seized, pain lancing through him like a Stinging Hex. Cramps? Now?!
Down he went, dignity be damned, hitting the floor like a sack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Clutching his leg, he wailed, "Anyone there?! I'm done! I quit! Save me, for Merlin's sake!"
Down on the first floor, Chen Ge and Xu Wan were wrestling Lao Song—pale and gibbering like he'd seen a dementor—out through the workers' passage when Monkey's scream ripped through the air, a sound to wake the ghosts of Hogwarts. Safety first—no dawdling. They bolted up to the third floor, boots pounding like a herd of centaurs.
Bursting into the corridor, Chen Ge spotted Monkey thrashing on the ground—Xu Wan hung back as he flicked on his flashlight, a lumos beam cutting the dark. "You okay, mate?"
"I quit! Forever—let me out!" Monkey howled, a man reborn in terror's crucible. Chen Ge didn't commit, just crouched beside him, pressing his knees. "Push hard—straighten 'em out."
As he eased Monkey's cramp, Chen Ge scanned the scene, brow furrowing. Xu Wan and I were floors away—what spooked this guy so bad? Two ragdolls lay nearby—innocent props, nothing more. "Brother, what got you so jumpy?" he asked, voice casual as a Slytherin sizing up prey.
"You kidding?!" Monkey's red-rimmed eyes blazed, voice cracking like a jilted lover's. "These creepy dolls—they chased me! You're behind it, you twisted git!"
"Chased you?" Chen Ge blinked, masking a smirk. No point spilling the truth—might break him for good. "Let's get you out first," he said, hauling Monkey up, leaving the dolls' secrets to fester in the shadows.
"Wait—there's another soul trapped up here! She's losing it—save her too!" Monkey fumbled with his phone, dialing Shi Ling with shaky fingers. While he was distracted, Chen Ge—sly as a Slytherin prefect—scooped up the two ragdolls, cradling them in his palm. They were tiny, rough-hewn things—less "exquisite craftsmanship" and more "child's art class gone wrong." These little creeps spooked a grown man into a leg cramp? He poked one's charred face, half-expecting it to squeak. Instead, a faint vibe tickled his fingertip—reluctance, like it resented the jab but couldn't fight back. Huh… intriguing.
Shi Ling's frantic cries guided them down the corridor, her voice a siren's wail echoing off the walls. They zeroed in on her prison—a room sealed tighter than the Chamber of Secrets. Chen Ge shoved the door open from outside, flashlight beam slicing the gloom like a lumos spell. "Don't freak—we're busting you out!"
Shi Ling didn't even glance his way. She huddled in the corner, trembling like a mandrake freshly potted, lips muttering gibberish. "The dolls—they're staring! Everywhere I go, their eyes follow!"
"More dolls?" Chen Ge's gaze snapped to the room's heart—two larger figures sprawled side by side, bigger than the ones in his hands. One sported a stitched beard, the other an apron draped over faded cloth—grubby, eerie stand-ins for a mum and dad.
"They were sitting—I swear it!" Shi Ling's tear-streaked face pleaded, wide-eyed as a Hufflepuff facing a boggart.
"I know, I know—this is all because of… the restless spirits haunting our ghost house! You've already been ensnared by these creepy little dolls. If we don't perform an exorcism ritual right this instant, they'll torment you for the rest of your life!" Chen Ge said, putting on his best spooky voice to rattle the slightly airheaded girl in front of him.
"Eek! W-what do I do? Save me, Boss Chen!" The girl was totally buying it, her teary, pear-blossom eyes sparkling with a mix of fear and charm that could melt anyone's heart.
"Don't worry, I've got you. I'm about to perform the exorcism, so just relax and don't fight it, okay?" Chen Ge stepped forward, wrapping the girl gently in his arms. One hand patted her back soothingly, while the other sneakily slid down to her skirt, brushing it up just a little. His fingers grazed the inside of her thigh, and though her body twitched slightly, she didn't say a word.
No resistance? Perfect, Chen Ge thought. His hand wandered further, discovering her panties—buttoned on the sides, of all things. How convenient. This Shiling's secretly a tease, isn't she? His fingers danced slowly along her inner thigh, teasingly circling before brushing over the fabric of her underwear. He pressed a little with his middle finger, feeling her warmth, while his other fingers played along the edges. Her softness, her heat—it was all there, and soon he noticed a faint dampness. Oh, she's definitely feeling it now, he smirked to himself.
Meanwhile, his left hand slid up from her back to her chest, cupping her through her clothes. He started with light strokes, savoring the plush softness, then traced circles over her breast. Shiling's breath hitched as he felt her perk up beneath his touch. With a sly grin, he tugged her shirt up just enough to slip his hand under her thin bra, pinching her gently between his fingers and rubbing back and forth. Down below, his other hand edged closer, dipping just inside her panties. Her hand suddenly dropped, grabbing his wrist as if to stop him. "B-Boss Chen, wait! What kind of exorcism is this?!" she protested, though her grip was weak, almost flirtatious.
"Shh, don't worry. This is my authentic exorcism ritual. Just stay still and let it happen," he cooed, brushing her objections aside.
His hand left her chest, intertwining his fingers with hers instead. Guiding her hand, he rubbed slowly over her panties, then slipped both their hands inside. Her damp warmth greeted him, soft and slick. Together, they traced over her sensitive spots, teasing and exploring with a slow, deliberate rhythm. He pulled her left hand out, placing it on her own chest, then did the same with her right, guiding her to caress herself under his lead.
Chen Ge's thumb and index finger parted her gently, brushing her most sensitive spot with featherlight touches. Shiling's body began to sway, her breaths growing shaky. He slid a finger lower, dipping inside her slick warmth. She turned her head, and in the faint moonlight streaming through the window, he caught a glimpse of her face—half-dazed, half-hesitant, all traces of fear long gone.
He'd expected a fight, but instead, she turned fully toward him. Face-to-face now, her chest pressed against his, soft and warm like twin flames igniting his senses. His arousal strained against her, brushing her stomach. Their faces were so close—her cheeks burned, but she didn't pull away. Emboldened, Chen Ge's hands roamed back to her chest, and under the dim light, he saw her eyes flutter shut, lost in the moment.
With a flick, he undid her top's buttons, revealing a strapless bra. His palm glided over the exposed skin before tugging the fabric down, kneading her gently. Her reactions spurred him on—pinching, rubbing, teasing until she squirmed. Then his lips found hers, soft and slow. He kissed her lower lip, her upper lip, her neck, her earlobes, trailing tender pecks across her face. She leaned into it, matching his rhythm. His tongue darted out, teasing hers in a playful dance, while his hands kept up their assault below and above. Her body twisted with excitement, completely swept away.
She's no newbie at this, Chen Ge mused. But who cares? A gorgeous girl like her, all mine to touch and kiss—what's there to complain about? His lips drifted lower, tasting the faint fragrance of her skin as he kissed her chest. His tongue circled her, flicking lightly before drawing her in, while his other hand mirrored the motion on her opposite side. Shiling's soft gasps filled the air, her restraint crumbling.
He shed her bra entirely, tossing his own jacket aside. Their bare skin pressed together, electric and searing. With a quick motion, he unbuttoned her panties—so practical—and pocketed them, freeing himself to line up with her. She was too caught up to notice, lost in the haze. He teased her entrance, slick and ready, sliding in slowly. A faint resistance met him—Wait, no way. Is she…? Jackpot!
With a few firm thrusts, he broke through, a trickle of warmth confirming his guess. She gasped, "Ow! G-go easy!" He chuckled, "Sorry, got a little cramped there. I'll be gentler next time—promise I won't step on your toes!" She mumbled, "It's fine," and he grinned. All clear now. Time to go all out!
Holding her tight, he moved with purpose—up, down, side to side—his rhythm steady and deep. She moaned softly, matching his pace. The intensity built, their bodies in sync, until he felt her tighten around him. Her gasps turned to shudders, a rush of heat signaling her peak. That pushed him over the edge too, and with a final surge, he let go, both of them breathless and glistening.
They clung to each other for a moment, panting. As he softened, he set her down gently. She rummaged in her bag, pulling out tissues to wipe his face, then hers. Handing him a couple, she dabbed at herself below. But Chen Ge waved off the tissue, tweaking her playfully and pointing down. "Clean it up for me, babe. It's good for you—full of nutrients!"
Shiling's cheeks flared red, but she leaned down anyway, her soft lips brushing him clean with shy, careful licks. Chen Ge patted her head, satisfied, then tucked himself away and straightened up, ready to move on like nothing had happened.
He sauntered to the pair, setting his two finds beside them. Four dolls now—a grim little family reunion. Matches the Ping An Apartments victims—arson took four, right? Murder by Midnight's riffing off that tragedy… are these their spirits?
His pocket buzzed—the black phone, that cursed Marauder's Map of his—lit up with a message: "Specters' Favored. Congrats—you've triggered the sole Hidden Mission in Murder by Midnight! These spirits linger with unfinished business. Fulfill their wish, and they'll become loyal allies."
Hidden Mission? Chen Ge's eyes widened—jackpot! The black phone's scenarios pack secret quests? The Ping An ghosts' beef was with Wang Qi—nailing him should've settled their score, right? Guess not.
He grabbed Monkey and Shi Ling, steering them downstairs like a shepherd herding spooked nifflers. But his brain churned—Hidden Mission, huh? Out the workers' passage they went, and instead of diving back into the fray, Chen Ge bolted solo to the Props Room—a shadowy trove rivaling Dumbledore's office. Rifling through the box, he snagged Wang Qi's yellowed missing person notice. This might be their key.
Back on the third floor, he slipped into Shi Ling's trap-room, and—whoa, what's this? The three bigger dolls—mum, dad, big sis—lay flat, but the smallest? Face-down by the door, like she'd been mid-crawl to freedom. He scooped her up, peering close. A weird vibe hit him—she was playing dead, scared of being caught. Instead of chills, a grin tugged his lips—adorable, in a creepy way. "Victims' spirits, huh? You lot are stuck in these raggy husks."
Door shut, Chen Ge plopped cross-legged in the room's center—like a Gryffindor facing a riddle, ready to crack this ghostly gig wide open.