Fatal Kiss

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We plunged into a Cursed-tier instance, a death trap, the system blaring warnings: All player survival rates immediately reduced to zero! My teammates shrieked, scattering in terror as malevolent spirits hunted them down. Only I found myself cornered by the unspeakable instance BOSS.

Icy tentacles coiled around my ankles, and in my ears, the system's alarms went haywire, glitching and breaking:

[Warning! BOSS detected with abnormal emotional fluctuations! Warning! BOSS is attempting to court the player?!]

My blood ran cold.

So, I looked at the creature before me, reeking of blood.

Trembling I kissed him.

1.

The moment my eyes opened, a bone-chilling cold crawled up my spine. Even though I was wrapped up like a mummy, that icy dread pierced my bones like needles.

My name is Elara Zahn, a frail individual suffering from "hyperalgesia" and "extreme cold sensitivity." In this deadly infinite game, players with an F-rating for physical fitness like me are usually labeled "disposable consumables."

"Rookie?" a gruff voice boomed beside me. "Stop playing dead. Get up and work."

The speaker was a man with a scarred face, known as Randal. He was a veteran player, holding a blood-stained machete, looking at me as if I were already dead.

This was a Chinese horror instance called Spirit Wedding. White lanterns hung everywhere in the courtyard, and crimson wedding characters adorned a coffin. The wind scattered paper money through the air. The system's task was simple: survive three days as a guest and attend the final wedding.

"This instance is a B-rank difficulty. You'll live as long as you don't do anything stupid." Randal pointed to the tightly shut East Wing in the distance. "But someone has to scout ahead. Hey, you, the sickly one. You go."

I coughed twice, my face pale. "That's forbidden territory." The rules clearly stated the East Wing was the bridal chamber, off-limits to guests.

Randal sneered, abruptly shoving me. "Just go when I tell you! In this team, a useless person needs to know their place. Either you go scout, or I'll cut you down right now."

I stumbled a few steps, pushing open the rickety wooden door of the East Wing. Behind me, Randal and the other players jeered. Then, with a bang, the door locked itself behind me.

2.

Inside, there was no musty smell as I'd expected. Instead, a strong scent of blood permeated the air. A grand, intricately carved bed stood in the center, its red canopy hanging low. Before I could even observe my surroundings, my heart clenched.

Cold. Ten times colder than outside. My constitution made me extremely sensitive to temperature. This cold wasn't just a drop in temperature; it was the precursor to a terrifying presence. My health bar began to deplete at a visible rate.

[Health -10... -10...]

If I didn't find a heat source soon, I'd freeze to death before any ghost could kill me.

"Creak"

The red canopy by the bed suddenly swayed open. A tall figure stood there, unnoticed until now. He was dressed in an elaborate, dark red wedding robe, wearing a grotesque bronze mask that left his pale jaw exposed.

It was the BOSS. The Ghost Groom had appeared early, before the wedding night.

The powerful sense of oppression made my knees weak, but I didn't kneel. My instinct for survival made me stare intently at him. In my vision, he wasn't a vengeful spirit claiming lives, but the only "heat source" in this ice-cold room.

He raised his hand, his sharp, black fingernails pointing directly at my heart. Too fast. I couldn't dodge.

3.

A death trap. The instant his fingertips brushed the fabric over my chest, the cold nearly froze my blood. Perhaps I was insane. In the second before death arrived, instead of retreating, I threw myself forward with all my might.

"Thud."

The sound of claws tearing skin didn't come. I collided with a hard, cold embrace. Although cold, it was a surging power. The Ghost Groom seemed not to have expected my embrace, his movements stiffening for a moment. In that instant, I seized my chance.

My hands trembling, I clung to his shoulders, tilting my head back. Along the lower edge of his cold bronze mask, I accurately found his lips. The moment my lips met his, it was like kissing a millennia-old block of ice.

But I felt it. That violent, malevolent energy that had been poised to tear me apart suddenly halted.

"Save me" My voice, pressed against his lips, was as soft as a cats mew, laced with the tremulousness born of pain. "So cold"

This was a gamble. My unique constitution: a "divine lure." In the real world, even stray dogs would inexplicably follow me home. If this ability worked on monsters, too

The system panel flashed wildly with red light.

[Warning! BOSS logic detected as confused!]

[Warning! Hatred value judgment failed]

[Warning! Affection system forcibly initiated]

4.

Time seemed to stand still. My waist suddenly tightened. It wasn't a human arm, but something slick and tough, like a shadow. It squeezed my waist relentlessly, with such force it felt like he was trying to meld me into his own body.

Pain. But I endured. I even softened my body obediently, burying my face in the crook of his neck. A sigh of satisfaction echoed above my head. It was the pleasure of a beast before a meal.

"Found you" a hoarse, low voice rumbled.

The next second, the world spun. I was thrown onto the soft, grand bed. But the anticipated tearing and biting didn't happen. Instead, a black mist gently enveloped me. The biting cold disappeared, replaced by a warm, cozy comfort.

After an unknown period, the door opened. I adjusted my disheveled collar and pushed the door open to step out. Outside, Randal was leading his group, ready to collect my body and loot me. Seeing me emerge perfectly intact, he dropped the cigarette he was holding, startled.

"You you're not dead?" Randals eyes widened, as if he'd seen a ghost.

I ignored him, simply opening my palm. There lay a blood-red jade pendant, engraved with an ancient character for malevolence. The Ghost Groom had slipped it to me just now. Or rather, it was his "mark" left on me.

5.

After emerging from the East Wing, the instance took a strange turn. The wandering spirits and specters that had been drifting in the courtyard now, upon seeing me, all cowered terrified against the walls, trembling.

Wherever I walked, a path opened up automatically, as if Moses were parting the Red Sea. My body also felt off. The back of my neck always felt chilly, as if something was constantly wrapped around it. Even when I looked in the mirror, I could only see a pale patch of skin with a red bruise, like a hickey, or some kind of totem. The coldness of the jade pendant in my palm seeped into my bones, yet I felt a strange sense of safety? This realization sent a jolt through my stomach.

I had just kissed a monster, using an almost bewitching method to survive. Even more terrifying, I had, in that moment, tasted the power of control. I was using him.

What about him? Was he truly momentarily confused, or was he playing along, enjoying the willing sacrifice of his prey? This thought plunged me into an ice-cold abyss, yet I also felt a faint thrill. This was a gamble, dancing with a devil. And I, it seemed, was born to stand at the center of the dance floor.

By the second night, Randal finally couldnt sit still any longer. He stared at the jade pendant in my hand, his greed overcoming his fear.

"This kid must have made a deal with a ghost!" Randal incited the other players. "He's radiating so much sinister energy; he might already be possessed." "According to the rules, we must guard against ghosts, but also against 'traitors'!" The other rookie players, already terrified, echoed his sentiment.

"So what do we do?"

"A vote." Randal grinned sinisterly. "The system has a hidden mechanism: if more than half of the players vote someone to be an anomaly, they can summon a 'Ghost Catcher' to execute them."

6.

The vote took place in the ancestral hall. Five people, four votes cast against me.

"Elara, don't blame me for being ruthless," Randal said, holding the ballot, his face radiating self-righteousness. "For everyone to survive, you must be sacrificed." Randal stared at the increasingly prominent red mark on my neck, an unconcealable fear deep in his eyes. He had been through too many instances; he knew that those marked by a BOSS either became puppets or attracted an even more terrifying catastrophe. He didn't want to gamble.

Randal's voice rose, both to persuade others and himself. "Voting to eliminate you isn't to harm someone; it's for purification!" "For all of us to live cleanly!"

See? Once malice dons the cloak of "the greater good" and "purification," it becomes self-justifying.

As the vote took effect, the temperature in the ancestral hall plummeted. A three-meter tall Ghost Catcher, with a green face and tusks, emerged, dragging a soul-chain. It was an enforcer of the rules, an invincible NPC. Randal retreated triumphantly, waiting to see my soul dragged away by the soul-chain.

I stood my ground, unmoving. I even felt a little like laughing. The Ghost Catcher menacingly charged towards me, raising its soul-chain. However, just as the iron chain was about to touch me, it stopped. Its murky eyes stared intently behind me, as if seeing something utterly terrifying. Its massive body began to tremble violently.

"Clang." The soul-chain dropped to the ground.

7.

"What's going on? Move!" Randal shouted, agitated.

Behind me, there was no light, but my shadow, cast by the candlelight, stretched incredibly long. The shadow writhed, rising from the ground, transforming into a massive, indescribable black mist. From within the black mist, several inky tendrils slowly extended, resting on the Ghost Catcher's shoulders.

There was no sound. The once arrogant Ghost Catcher, as if erased by an eraser, was instantly swallowed by the black mist, without even a scream. A deathly silence fell over the ancestral hall. The black mist dissipated, and no monster appeared.

But I felt it. The unseen presence stood directly behind me, its cold chin resting lightly on my shoulder, as if declaring its ownership to everyone.

I bent down, picked up the soul-chain from the ground, and looked at Randal, who had collapsed onto the floor. A faint flush colored my pale face from the excitement. I smiled, my voice gentle. "It seems he listens to me more than to your so-called rules."

8.

After that night, no one dared to speak to me again. I was assigned the best room to rest in. Deep into the quiet night, I lay on the bed, but sleep wouldn't come. Because I knew, the "bill" was due.

The window wasn't closed, yet the candle in the room suddenly extinguished. In the darkness, that familiar, clammy, cold sensation once again wrapped around my ankle. It was invisible, yet tangible. Unlike its protective presence during the day, it was now filled with aggression. It was the greed to utterly consume its prey. Unseen tentacles coiled around my wrists, pinning me against the headboard.

"Today I was very obedient." In the darkness, that hoarse voice spoke again. This time it was beside my ear, carrying a moist breath. "I helped you."

Due to my sensitive skin, even slight pressure would leave red marks. My wrists were already beginning to throb faintly.

"So?" I asked softly, trying not to tremble.

"I want payment."

The words had barely left his lips when a cold sensation covered me. It wasn't a conventional kiss; it was more like tasting. It was inspecting every inch of my skin, checking if I carried anyone else's scent. The shivering sensation of being completely controlled by a non-human entity almost suffocated me.

I knew this instance was no longer just a survival game. I had provoked a madman. A malevolent deity who treated a horror game like a dating simulation.