Home Is Where the Horror Is

[Welcome to the Happy Home Dungeon.]

[Players who survive for seven days in this dungeon will clear the level.]

[Initial Players: 30; Current Survivors: 30.]

[We wish all players an enjoyable game.]

I died in a car crash, and a flash of white light later, I found myself standing in front of a towering apartment building, a cold, mechanical voice ringing in my ears.

I'm legally blind without my glasses.

I can't tell a human from a lamppost beyond three feet.

I couldn't make out the details of the building, or the faces of the people around me-only vague, shifting shadows.

A soft, trembling voice cut through the chaos, a young student girl sobbing, "W-what is this place? I want to go home."

A blonde man with a sharp temper snarled, "Who's behind this? Let me the hell out of here!"

Two people stepped forward, a man and a woman who carried themselves with quiet confidence.

They introduced themselves as veteran players, Raven and Jax, and kindly explained the rules to us newbies.

This was an infinite death game, they said.

Everyone pulled into it was already dead.

If you could clear enough dungeons and gather the fabled 9999 Survival Points, you could be resurrected.

At the mention of resurrection, I leaned forward quickly, "How many Survival Points do you get for clearing one dungeon?"

Raven's tone was flat, lacking any enthusiasm, "It depends on your Fear Meter when you clear the dungeon. If you finish with a 99 Fear Meter, you only get 1 Survival Point. Hit 100, and you die on the spot."

The Fear Meter, as the name suggested, measured how scared you were.

Veteran players who knew the game well usually kept their Fear Meter below 60.

New players?

They rarely fared so well.

I stroked my chin and asked again, "What if I clear it with a 0 Fear Meter? Do I get 100 Survival Points?"

The second the words left my mouth, my every move was being broadcast live to an audience I couldn't see, and countless comments flooded the chat:

[This new player's got a big mouth! Happy Home might only be an S-Rank dungeon, but it's so brutal no one's ever gotten a First Clear!]

[Wasn't it Ming from the number one guild who died here? He made it to day six, then got wiped!]

[We're screwed. Only two veterans this run, Raven and Jax, and together they're not half as good as Ming. This is gonna be a total party wipe.]

Soon enough, it was time to pick our rooms.

Raven explained that while no one had ever cleared the dungeon, the players who'd died before us had pieced together a few rules.

The building had 30 floors, one apartment per floor, and only one player could stay on each level.

Happy Home, it turned out, was a roleplay horror dungeon.

Each apartment housed supernatural entities that would take on the role of the player's close family.

How could your Fear Meter not skyrocket, living and eating with them for seven straight days?

Jax cut Raven off mid-sentence, grabbing her hand and claiming the first and second floors for themselves.

Seeing the veterans pick the lowest floors, the other players with half a brain followed suit, scrambling to claim the lower levels.

With my terrible eyesight, I couldn't run fast enough to keep up.

By the time everyone else had picked, only the 30th floor was left.

Unaware of what I'd gotten myself into, the livestream chat blew up again:

[This new player is so dead. Everyone knows the higher the floor, the stronger the boss.]

[Especially the 30th floor. It's full of top-tier bosses. They call it the Death House.]

When I reached the 30th floor, I glanced around and found it wasn't all that different from a regular apartment.

Sure, the stench of blood hung thick in the air, the walls were stained an unsettling red, the air was bitingly cold, and the lights flickered so dim I could barely make out anything...

But it was a penthouse!

With the family I'd always dreamed of!

In the real world, I was nothing but a legally blind orphan with no money to my name.

I marched right up to the front door, didn't hesitate for a second, and banged my fist on it hard, yelling at the top of my lungs, "Open up, I'm home! Hurry up, I'm starving out here!"

The livestream chat was stunned:

[Is she trying to get herself killed? Every other player knocks politely, or waits outside until the entity is in a good mood to open the door.]

[I can't watch this reckless idiot anymore. I'm switching to Raven's stream.]

[Wait! Keep watching! I wanna see how she dies!]

They just didn't get my logic.

If it's a roleplay, and I'm supposed to be family with these entities, I need to act as natural as possible.

Who goes back to their own home and says, "Hello, is anyone there? Could you please open the door for me?" anyway?

My knock faded, and the door creaked open.

A frigid wave of cold washed over me, and I sighed contentedly.

It was better than any air conditioner in summer.

I looked down and saw a small, red-cloaked figure standing in the doorway.

My vision was blurry as always, but I could make out two braids swinging back and forth.

It had to be a little girl in a red dress.

The child grinned a menacing grin and lunged straight for me, ice-cold little hands wrapping around my throat.

I caught her in a hug on instinct, and when my hand brushed her dress, I felt it was soaking wet.

I clicked my tongue in disapproval, "What's a little kid doing in wet clothes? Take this off right now, I'll get you something dry to wear."

My nose twitched, and I caught a whiff of copper.

I asked again, voice laced with worry, "Are you hurt somewhere? Where's the first aid kit? Let me patch you up."

The livestream chat was screaming in frustration:

[Lady, open your eyes! That's one of the Death House's top bosses! That dress isn't wet, it's soaked in the blood of the players she's dismembered! That blood isn't from her being hurt, it's from her victims!]

[It's over for her. When the dad gets home, she's dead meat.]

Too bad I couldn't see the chat.

I carried the little girl into the apartment, peeled off her blood-soaked red dress, and dug out a brand-new white dress from her pretty princess bedroom to put on her.

Her little hands, still locked around my throat, slowly loosened.

I felt her freeze up, unsure what to do, so I grabbed a warm washcloth and leaned in close, wiping every last trace of blood from her face.

Only then could I make out her features-she was an adorable little girl.

I smiled and pointed to my own face, "As family, it's my job to take care of you. But don't you think you owe me a kiss to say thank you?"

The little girl twisted the hem of her white dress shyly, then leaned in quick and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, before pulling away just as fast.

Her voice was soft and wobbly as she said, "Thank you, Mommy."

Wait. Mommy?

I was a mom now, no labor required!

That was freaking awesome!

I'd heard so many horror stories about women dying in childbirth.

I'd always wanted a family, but I was terrified of having kids.

This was perfect.

I'd just tucked the little girl, Cici, in for a nap when the mechanical voice rang in my ears again:

[Initial Players: 30; Current Survivors: 20.]

Who would have thought just picking a room had gotten 10 players killed already?

I pulled out my phone, holding it inches from my face until I could just make out the text on the screen.

The players had a group chat, and they were swapping information about how the others had died.

Turns out the blonde hothead and three other men had gotten into a fistfight over the 3rd floor.

The blonde had won, barely, and moved into the 3rd floor apartment.

But the second he knocked on the door, a humanoid entity with a dog's head had stepped out, opened its jaws wide, and swallowed him whole.

It chewed for a moment, then spat out a few blood-stained bones.

Through the half-open door, the other players had seen piles upon piles of human bones-likely the remains of every player who'd come before them.

Witnessing that had sent nearly every new player's adrenaline through the roof.

By the end of the first day, everyone's Fear Meter was sitting at 50, except for Raven and Jax.

One middle-aged man had even dropped dead the second he stepped through the door of the 10th floor, his Fear Meter spiking straight to 100.

The other players died in all sorts of ridiculous ways-some killed by the entities, some scared to death.

None of it had anything to do with me, of course.

I stood up, and while Cici napped, I grabbed a mop from the bathroom and cleaned the entire apartment from top to bottom.

I scrubbed the blood-red tile floors until they were sparkling white.

I was so proud of myself!

The dried blood on the walls wouldn't come off with a mop, so I grabbed a putty knife and scraped it right off.

By the time I was done, it was late afternoon.

My back ached, and I collapsed on the couch next to Cici's bed, falling into a deep sleep.

When I woke up again, I was wrapped in a bone-deep cold.

The apartment was dark, and a tall, blurry shadow stood right in front of me.

I couldn't see his face, but the second he spoke, that deep, sexy voice had me completely hooked.