Ten Tales At Midnight - Chapter 1
? Chapter 1 ? #Prologue - Ten Tales At Midnight
The surroundings were dark and silent.
The asphalt that covered the road had disappeared without a trace and was replaced by dirt underfoot.
Flickering street lights were the only ones standing guard in front of the abandoned building.
The atmosphere was dismal, as if a ghost was waiting at the entrance.
“It’s so dark…”
I took out my phone from my pocket and turned on the flashlight. The three-story abandoned building looked like a monster.
The corroded exterior wall was ominous, and all the windows were broken.
I entered the building feeling like it could collapse at any moment.
The moonlight that came through the broken windows created eerie shapes on the walls.
The first thing I saw inside the building was the piled up furniture covered in plastic: sofas, air conditioners, TVs, beds, and more.
I wondered why there were such things in an abandoned building, but I didn’t have time to think about it.
I was supposed to meet them in the basement.
As I stepped on the stairs leading down, I heard voices.
My heart raced; meeting strangers in such a place without any prior knowledge felt like some sort of secret rendezvous.
The damp air of the basement filled my lungs. There were nine people gathered in the surprisingly spacious basement.
One man stood up as soon as he saw me.
“Welcome. We’ve been waiting for you.”
He said with a grin. There was no lighting, but there was a candle in front of each of them.
The flickering candlelight, like ghosts, swayed in the darkness, revealing the outline of their faces.
“I’m sorry for being late…”
I lowered my head, feeling ashamed for being tardy.
They were seated at the desks. There were a total of 10 desks, and a total of 10 candles. They were arranged in a circular formation.
The tables faced each other like a hula-hoop, each with a candle on top, and it was clear that a lot of effort had gone into preparing the setup.
I took my seat at the empty table.
It was an ordinary desk used in school. What if the item on the desk was a textbook instead of a candle?
For a moment, I felt like I was transported back to my high school days.
But this wasn’t a school. The people next to me weren’t my classmates either.
We were ten individuals gathered in the basement of an unidentified abandoned building.
I secretly sucked in a deep breath.
The candles began to flicker precariously.
? ? ?
My name is Lee Hajin.
I’m 23 years old and majoring in electronic engineering at university.
I usually enjoy reading web novels.
There was something charming about texts that you can’t get from videos or pictures.
Because I was so absorbed in it, I sometimes forgot to eat.
The website I frequented was [Novelpia].
To someone like me who craved new flavors of novels, [Novelpia] was like a buffet.
There were many unique and original works there.
The novel I discovered there was ‘Ten Tales At Midnight.’
I thought it was a parody of Midnight Diner1The MC thought ???? or Ten Tales At Midnight was a parody of the movie, ???? or Midnight Diner. based on the title, but the genre was <horror>.
I was curious about how cooking and horror could coexist, so I decided to read it.
Contrary to my expectations, ‘Ten Tales At Midnight’ was a novel that had nothing to do with cooking.
I read it all the way through, wondering when the food would appear, but instead, there were just a bunch of ghosts.
I felt like I had been scammed.
The plot of ‘Ten Tales At Midnight’ was roughly as follows.
For ten days, ten people gather in front of ten candles.
Each person has their own candle and ghost story. They take turns telling their stories once a day.
And when the story ends, the candle goes out, and the person dies.
I couldn’t understand why people died when the candle went out.
The novel never really explained it properly.
The candle went out. So the person died. The end. That was the gist of it.
The author used the strange pen name <Sikorsky>.
He was a completely unknown writer, the so-called ‘Hakko writer2These are some points that I’ve gathered: 1) It was said that there was a word derived in the movie <???? ???> or; 2) ?? in Japanese means a small live house (?? ??? ???). In most cases, it refers to a very small live house where only a few dozen people may come in, and; 3) This can mean a small house (???) like a shack. All in all, ?? ?? (Hakko writer) can mean as a small-time writer or a rookie writer. This began to be used as a term referring to unpopular creators (webtoon artists, web novel writers, etc.) across various web contents including webtoons and web novels..’
There was no way a novel with such a ridiculous premise of people dying when the candle goes out could be popular.
Naturally, there were no comments, and the number of likes, recommendations and views was dismal.
The last chapter had only 10 views. Only 10 people had read this novel to the end.
And I was one of them.
In the last chapter, the author left a postscript.
He said something along the lines of, “thank you for reading, you’re the reason I finished it,” or something like that.
Additionally, he mentioned that he wanted to share ghost stories with others, like in this novel. He even suggested meeting in person.
Is he out of his mind? Well, it’s not like a person who would write such a novel in the first place could be normal.
The author even left an appointment time and a detailed address.
<Please come. An interesting ghost story is prepared.>
” … Crazy bastard.”
I muttered to myself. But on the other hand, my curiosity was piqued.
What kind of guy is the author who wrote this novel?
What could be going through his mind to write such a low-quality novel?
Coincidentally, the address the author left was very close to my house. It was a 10-minute walk.
“Hmm.”
I had nothing else to do, so maybe I’ll go.
When I get there, I’ll go and ask him why people die when the candle goes out.
? ? ?
I had never imagined. There were even 10 people gathered here.
The last chapter had only 10 views.
That means all the readers who read the last chapter are gathered here.
Moreover, there were 5 men and 5 women.
<Novelpia> mainly deals with novels targeting male readers. Female readers were a minority.
But, half of the readers of ‘Ten Tales At Midnight’ were women. Does that even make sense?
I was confused.
The desks were arranged in a circle.
We sat alternating between men and women, like M-F-M-F-M-F.
“I enjoyed reading ‘Ten Tales At Midnight’, author.”
The girl sitting to my right said, smiling brightly.
She had short chestnut hair and cute dimples. She looked younger than me.
But author?
“Author?”
“Oh, come on, don’t kid around~”
When I asked in surprise, she laughed.
The others also seemed to think that I was the author.
“I’m not the author. I’m also a reader of ‘Ten Tales At Midnight’.”
“What? That can’t be.”
After listening to everyone, it seemed that no one had claimed to be the author.
Naturally, as the last to arrive, I was mistaken for the author.
The girl next to me tilted her head.
“Hmm. One of us must be the author.”
“Are they hiding their identity?”
“Hahaha. This is fun.”
Everyone seemed to find it fun, but I felt a little uncomfortable.
What a pathetic human being to gather readers like this and hide their identity.
“Well then, shall we share ghost stories while also trying to find the hidden author?”
A man suggested. He was a man in his thirties, neatly dressed in a casual suit.
With a sharp jawline, he exuded a sleek and agile atmosphere like that of a hunting dog.
“Ghost stories, huh? That sounds great.”
“After all, that’s why we’re gathered here, right?”
“I’m getting nervous~”
Each of them said something. Unlike me, they were true horror enthusiasts.
To me, who came to see the author’s mug3Slang for face., the suggestion was not a pleasant one.
Wasn’t it the author who said, ‘A ghost story is prepared’?
“Let’s tell stories about things we actually experienced, just like the concept of ‘Ten Tales At Midnights’. What do you think?”
Everyone agreed with the man’s next suggestion.
They decided to take turns telling ghost stories in a clockwise direction, starting with him.
And it had to be something we actually experienced.
But this was becoming difficult for me.
Not only am I not good at storytelling, but I also had no memory of anything close to a ghost story actually happening to me.
The only saving grace was that I was second to last.
The person who would tell the last story, in other words, the last place, was the girl sitting on my left.
Unlike the girl on my right, her atmosphere was calm.
She had long black hair and pale skin that was almost white, a feature that stood out even in the darkness.
Although her impression was a bit cold, she was undoubtedly a beautiful girl.
Without realizing it, I stared at her face and our eyes met.
I quickly turned my head, but it was too late. My face was burning.
“……”
The girl didn’t show any particular reaction.
“I came here today to tell this story.”
The man opened his mouth. He sounded excited.
“Perhaps the author is listening somewhere. I hope he leaves this story in writing.”
The man stood up and the sound of the chair scraping against the floor was heard.
It seemed like he was going to stand up and tell the story like a kid presenting in class.
“I’m a middle school teacher. I teach math to children.”
He was a teacher. Now that I saw him, he certainly looked like a teacher.
“I’ve led a smooth life, but except for one time. I experienced something extremely horrifying. I won’t be able to forget it till the day I die.”
The candle in front of the man flickered.
After a moment of silence, his story began.
? ? ?
… This is something I experienced when I was in middle school.
Translator
