On Ghost Festival My Boyfriend Visited; Footage Made Me Call Police

On the night of the Ghost Festival, I was crouched at the roadside, burning paper offerings for my dead relatives. My flatmate sent me a photo. "Your boyfriend's here, and he even brought you flowers. Come back quick!" I opened the photo. My boyfriend was wearing a charcoal-gray suit, sitting on the living room sofa, cradling a big bouquet of fiery red roses. We'd just had a fight yesterday, and today he'd bought flowers to make up with me. But right as I was about to put my phone away and head upstairs, something suddenly hit me, my face went white, and with trembling hands I dialed 911. "Officer, the Ghost Festival, the night the dead come back—is that real?" "Of course not. We live in a society ruled by law, and we believe in science!" Despair hit me in an instant, and I squeezed my eyes shut. "Then please, send someone right away—my boyfriend may already be dead!" ... The night of the Ghost Festival. I was crouched at the roadside burning offerings when my phone chimed. It was my flatmate, sending me a photo and a voice message. "Chrissy, where are you? Your boyfriend came by our place and brought you flowers. Come back quick!" I opened the photo and looked at the huge bouquet of fiery red roses cradled in my boyfriend's arms, my heart full of sweetness. He really did know how to win me over. I replied with a smile: "Tell him to hang on a sec. I'll be right up once I finish burning this pile of offerings!" I put my phone away, picked up another paper offering, and fed it into the fire. Then something suddenly hit me, and my hand jerked. I pulled out my phone, opened that photo again, zoomed in, and studied it carefully. In an instant, my whole body went cold. Like I'd plunged straight from a summer day into an icehouse. The firelight lit up my pale face. I quickly lifted my head and glanced around. People were burning offerings all along the intersection, a little fire every two or three steps. Some were crying, some had stony faces. I started backing away—three steps, then I turned and ran. As I ran, I dialed 911. "Officer, the Ghost Festival, the night the dead come back—is that real?" The operator froze, and it took her a long moment before she answered firmly: "There's no basis for those claims, ma'am. Please believe in science!" My feet stopped, and I looked at the building right in front of me and closed my eyes for a moment: "Then please, send someone right away—my boyfriend's been murdered!" The operator gave a start: "You're saying there's been a homicide over there? Please be more specific—the exact location, the time, what the scene looks like." "I can't explain it clearly, just come quick—the address is Fairhaven Apartments on Levee Road, Building 1, Unit 2, Apt 603!" "All right, try to stay calm, we'll get officers over there right away!" The call ended, and I crouched down at the base of my building, all the strength drained out of me. Gripping my phone, I looked up. The sixth floor lights were on, and I could just make out my flatmate's shadow standing in the living room. She was pouring water for my boyfriend. But I didn't have the nerve to go up. Just then, my boyfriend called. "Honey, why aren't you up yet? Want me to come down and get you?" On reflex I shouted, "No!" There was a three-second pause on the other end, then finally a helpless voice: "Are you still mad at me?" "I know I was wrong. I'm already coming down. Stay right where you are and don't move—I'll apologize to you in person." I heard the sound of a door opening and closing on the other end, and the ding of the elevator arriving. "Oh, Hugh, you're here too. Perfect timing—I came by to drop something off for Chrissy." My mom? She'd run into that person at the elevator? A shudder went through me, but I pushed the fear aside, hung up, put my head down, and rushed into the complex, jabbing at the elevator button. But the elevator was in use and wouldn't come down. I quickly pulled out my phone and called my mom: "Mom, just drop the stuff and go. Don't ask why!" "And if you can, take Prissy with you!"

"Leave? I still want to have a good talk with Hugh and ask you two when you're planning to get married!" My mom paid no mind to what I'd said. Just then the elevator came down. The doors opened. Strangely, there was no one inside. So why had it been stuck on the sixth floor all this time? Could it be... I'd been about to step in, but I suddenly froze. A terrible suspicion spread through me. Could it be that the person I was talking to right now was no longer my mom? It wasn't confirmed. But my sixth sense told me that going up there meant danger. So I turned and started running out of the complex. I ran all the way to a convenience store where there were a lot of people. My heart was pounding, my nerves stretched to their limit. Just then my phone rang. It was the police. "Hello, is this Ms. Christine Simmons, the one who made the 911 call? We just went to your shared apartment. Your boyfriend is perfectly fine. Why did you make a false report?" "I didn't make a false report. He's not my boyfriend!" "But we've already verified his identity, and your mother is here too. Your mother said... she said you're under too much work pressure, that you have mild depressive tendencies..." "My mom said that?" "Yes." "She's not my mom! Something's happened to my mom too!" Captain Chavez went quiet for a moment, probably thinking I was even more unwell than he'd figured. I pulled up the photo my best friend had sent me and checked it one more time. That's right, he was not my boyfriend! "Wait for me downstairs at my place. I'll explain everything!" After I hung up, my eyes stayed fixed through the convenience store's glass window on the police car across the street, its red and blue lights flashing. A little while later, three officers in uniform came down from upstairs. I rushed out and planted myself in front of them. "You're Ms. Christine Simmons?" "Yes!" "Your boyfriend is perfectly fine, and your mother is up there too, so why are you saying something happened to them?" "Because the elevator was stuck on the sixth floor for three minutes!" "Hm?" I pulled up the photo my best friend had sent me and handed my phone to Captain Chavez, who was in the lead. "Take a look!" Captain Chavez took it and frowned as he looked it over. "Isn't this just your boyfriend waiting for you on the sofa in the apartment you share with your friend, holding flowers?" "Look at these flowers!" "What's wrong with the flowers?" I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come. But I was desperate to make him believe me. Then something occurred to me. I called out, "Hold on!" Then I rushed to the roadside and snapped a photo of a passerby who was burning paper offerings for the dead. Then I shoved the photo in front of him. "Look at this!" Captain Chavez squinted at it for a long moment. Suddenly he sucked in a sharp breath. His expression turned serious. "There really is something wrong!" "I want to pull the surveillance footage from the buildings in the complex between eight and nine tonight!" Captain Chavez was silent for three seconds, then made up his mind on the spot. "Come on, let's go find the property office!"

The property manager led us to the complex's security office. The technicians quickly pulled up the surveillance footage for my building. The screen showed: At 8:18 p.m., my boyfriend, Hugh, appeared in the elevator lobby carrying a large bouquet of flowers. At 8:20, the elevator arrived, and he stepped inside. "Switch to the floor cameras!" The floor footage came up. At 8:21 p.m., the elevator stopped on the sixth floor, and Hugh walked out carrying the flowers. Everything looked normal. I opened my phone and glanced at my call log. My call with Hugh had ended at 8:49. "Drag the footage ahead to around 8:49!" They dragged the footage forward, but the screen went completely black. "What's going on?" Everyone was startled. The black screen lasted for three minutes before an image finally reappeared. It was my mother's back and Hugh pulling the door of the shared apartment shut. The two of them had gone back into the apartment together. On the whole, there was nothing unusual. Jacob let out a sigh of relief. "Looks like it was just a coincidence. You're overthinking it. Go on home—your mom and your boyfriend are both waiting for you!" I said nothing. After a moment, I looked up into Jacob's eyes. "Have you thought about what happened during those three minutes when the screen was black?" "It was probably just a camera glitch!" "No. In those three minutes, something happened to my mom. The person who went back into the apartment with that man wasn't my mother!" Jacob's expression was surreal. "That's impossible!" "No one can swap one living person for another in three minutes with no preparation!" "He can!" Jacob took a deep breath. "Fine. Even if he can, then tell me—where is your mother right now? We've already searched your floor. There's no way he could have gotten rid of a body in such a short time, is there?" I knew what I was saying didn't add up. But I was sure there was something wrong with those flowers. "Jacob, Hugh and I have been together since our freshman year. I know his personality—he wouldn't lie to me!" "But…" "Can you trust me just this once? I want to go back and check, at least to make sure my mom and my best friend are okay. But I'm too scared to go alone. I'm hoping you can protect me from the shadows!" Jacob hesitated. "A protective order has to be approved by my superiors. If all of this turns out to be your imagination, we'll have a hard time answering for it!" "But what if it isn't? What if I go up there and die? What if everything I've said is true—then that's four lives at stake!" "My boyfriend, my mom, my best friend, and me—are you really going to stand by and let us die?" Jacob fell silent. Three seconds later, he picked up his phone and made a call. "Yes, the situation's urgent. The caller has requested protection. Send more officers immediately!" Before long, the additional officers arrived. I put on a bulletproof vest, strapped on a miniature camera and a listening device, and clipped a one-touch alarm button at my waist. Jacob explained it to me. "In a minute, you'll go knock on the door alone. But don't be afraid—we've got trained tactical officers stationed right outside the door." "If you're in danger, press the red button at your waist, and someone will rush in right away!" My face was stiff. I nodded and said, "Got it!" I pulled my own clothes back on, disguising myself so everything looked normal, stepped into the elevator, and pressed the button for the sixth floor. The elevator began to rise. My palms had broken out in a sweat. My face was reflected in the elevator's metal panel. Ghostly pale. With a ding, the elevator arrived. I went to knock on the door. "Chrissy forgot her keys." I could hear my best friend's voice from inside. "I'll get the door!" My boyfriend volunteered. The door swung open. And there before me was the familiar face of my boyfriend, Hugh.

"Chrissy, you're finally home!" "Here—flowers for you!" He held out that huge bouquet of fiery roses to me. I jerked back a few steps and stared hard at his face. "What's wrong with you?" "You don't like the bouquet?" Hugh's face filled with obvious disappointment. "Or is it that you still won't forgive me?" Yesterday afternoon, we'd had a disagreement about buying a house for the wedding. I wanted to buy the new place in Bayport. Hugh thought Bayport prices were too high—the eight hundred thousand we'd saved over five years of work was only enough for a down payment. So he wanted to buy in the small town where he grew up. We'd fought about it and parted on bad terms. "Fine, I'll do what you want—we'll buy in Bayport. Worst case, we'll work together to pay off the loan!" Hugh had given in. By all rights I should have been happy. But I wasn't. I just felt cold all over. The person in front of me looked exactly like Hugh, and yet something felt off. "Chrissy, what are you still standing there for? Hugh already agreed to buy in Bayport—what are you sulking about now? Hurry up and come in!" My mother's voice came from inside the apartment. That's right—my mother's voice. I looked in past Hugh's shoulder. My mom was sitting on the couch watching TV and cracking sunflower seeds. The look, the expression, the movements—all exactly the same! It was my mom. It really was my mom! Hugh pulled me inside. My best friend Prissy brought me out a plate of sliced chilled watermelon. "Where did you run off to just now?" "The police came by and said someone called 911, thinking there'd been a murder in our apartment. That wasn't you who called, was it?" I went rigid, my throat tight, and instinctively looked to see Hugh's reaction. Hugh was smiling. Not the slightest hint of nervousness. "Of course not—probably somebody's idea of a prank!" Then he added another request. "I don't want any chilled watermelon, I'm afraid it'll give me a stomachache. Honey, could you peel me an apple?" Once he said that, I stared hard at Hugh's reaction. "I'll do it, I'll do it—don't go ordering Hugh around for everything!" My mom offered eagerly. "It's all right, ma'am, let me do it. I just made Chrissy mad, so I've got to be on my best behavior now, or I'm afraid she won't forgive me!" As Hugh spoke, he took the fruit knife from my mother's hand with complete ease. Then he started peeling. I stared hard at every move he made, my back already soaked through. Just then, the phone rang. I'd arranged for Jacob Chavez to call pretending to be a coworker. I answered. "Overtime? Does it have to be right now? Can't I skip it?" I hung up, forced down the fear in my chest, and said apologetically to my mother and Hugh: "My boss just told me to come back to the office and rework the proposal!" "I have to go now!" Then I stood up and headed for the door, keeping everything as normal as I could. The door opened. The door closed. My legs went so weak I couldn't stand. The tactical officers outside the door caught me at once. I was taken to the police station. Someone handed me a cup of hot water. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, and half the water spilled out. Jacob Chavez arrived. I rushed straight to him, clutched his arm, and shouted through red eyes: "You saw it? You saw it?" "Those aren't my boyfriend and my mom at all." "Something's happened to my boyfriend, and something's happened to my mom too!" Everything that had just happened had been fed live to every officer through the surveillance feed. Jacob had seen it too, of course. His face had gone dark as soot, his teeth clenched hard as he fought to hold down the fear inside him. "I saw it!" "I think I already know what they are!"