Gore

I am a Thief.

While I was stealing, the homeowner came back.

With no other choice, I had to hide Under the Bed.

But in the next second, the Man pulled out a Knife and slit the woman’s throat, then took out his Phone to make a call.

Just as he dialed, from the pocket of my clothes,

came the sound of vibration.

In 2016, I was working as a security guard in a residential complex.

A homeowner’s ten-year-old daughter vanished from her bedroom under bizarre circumstances.

On the rumpled bedsheets, all that remained was a pair of bloodstained underwear.

The police and all of us searched for her with everything we had, but we found no leads at all.

Then I remembered a fairy tale the girl had once told us about when she was playing in the complex.

It was called the “Tooth Fairy.” Years later, I got married and had a child of my own.

When my kid reached the age of losing baby teeth, my wife told her a bedtime story.

And once again, I heard the words “Tooth Fairy.” Startled, I asked, “Is that how the story goes?”

“Yeah.”

That night, after lying awake until dawn, I contacted the officer who had been in charge of the case back then.

“We were wrong all those years ago.”

A top-tier Green Tea found herself in a horror game.

Watching the Bloody Senior Sister crawl in the dark toilet,

I screamed:

“Damn it! How could you let the Bloody Senior Sister crawl on such a filthy floor?”

Facing the Murderous Little Lolita with her split personality, I tied her hair into cute twin ponytails:

“While everyone else worries about whether the Murderous Little Lolita’s axe is sharp, I only worry if she gets tired from all that chopping.”

The Anomalies exchanged glances:

“Why do the corpses feel kind of warm?”