What is the true nature of this world?

You wake up in the morning, wash your face, brush your teeth, eat breakfast, say goodbye to your family, and head to school—is that real?

Or is it real when you squeeze into the rush hour subway and start a one-hour commute?

I’m an art student, considering myself to have a decent imagination, and I’ve read some supernatural stories,

But I never thought,

From a certain night onward, I found myself repeatedly seeking the truth of this world.

1

It’s 12 AM, the scratching at the door is getting louder.

I constructed a fortress on my bed using blankets and a quilt, serving as a psychological barrier.

I turned on my phone, it still had 70% battery. On nights without power, this 70% was my best companion.

Ada: ‘Don’t you really want to know what it is?’

A message popped up on WhatsApp from my girlfriend. Well, calling her my girlfriend isn’t entirely accurate.

Since a week ago, people worldwide have been woken up by the scratching at the door at midnight. Everyone who opened the door to check disappeared.

This scenario repeats every night. The government has lost its authority, transportation between cities and villages has collapsed, and regions have initiated ‘self-help’ measures.

However, every night, there are cries because people step out and then vanish.

The scratching persists until 5 AM, and everyone falls asleep at the same moment, forgetting what happened that night.

At 11 PM, the terrifying memories return, of those who disappeared.

At 12 AM sharp, the scratching at the door resumes.

It feels like our world is divided into two:

Daytime is perfectly normal; humans and machines follow their routines as if the night’s chaos never happened.

Nighttime is bizarre, with just the scratching and the dilemma of whether to open the door.

After three nights, the self-help group finally identified the issue and posted a group announcement in the survivors’ chat group:

‘Residents, do not listen to any sounds outside at night, do not open the door! Remember, do not open the door!’

Those who stepped out never returned.

Stepping out means disappearing, so don’t open the door.

I met Ada in a small group called the ‘Doomsday Survival Guide.’

The group consists of young people educated in basic science and materialist ideology.

Our group leader is a graduate student in nuclear physics, who rarely speaks but occasionally comforts us when we’re emotionally breaking down.

Most members are humanities students. Ada and I are in the same major. Two days ago, someone in the group asked, ‘Could this be some performance art?’ I explained what performance art is and why this can’t be a prank, and Ada chimed in, which led us to get acquainted.

Ada: ‘Who knows when we might die, shall we date? I’ve never dated before.’

Maybe the group atmosphere was too grim that day, so I hesitated and agreed.

Ada: ‘Don’t a lot of girls like you?’

I gave an ambiguous answer because I’ve never dated, but I didn’t want to reveal that.

User A: ‘Is it the end of the world, an alien invasion, or the arrival of Cthulhu?’

User B: ‘Then it’s over, we might as well choose how to die now.’

User C: ‘Why? Can’t humanity resist?’

User D: ‘If it’s truly the Dark God from the Cthulhu Mythos, humanity’s resistance will end in tragedy no matter what.’

Ada: ‘What are they discussing?’

She messaged me privately.

Me: ‘A novel setting, basically the Dark God’s power is too strong, no matter how humans resist, it ends in doom.’

Ada: ‘But in novels, isn’t there always a hero? The hero overcomes obstacles, and though there are sacrifices, they ultimately lead humanity to rebirth.’

Me: ‘Well… most novels are like that, but Cthulhu ends in tragedy,’ I thought and typed seriously, ‘Or, in other words, the hero leads humanity to rebirth, but after rebirth, is it still human civilization?’

Ada: ‘Wow, that sounds profound.’

When a girl replies like that, she’s essentially saying, ‘I didn’t understand a word you said.’

That’s what my unlucky roommate told me; he’s a love expert.

‘Did you buy those things?’

I changed the subject.

As a precaution, I suggested she buy emergency supplies like flashlights, lithium batteries, a first aid kit, and disinfectant.

‘Of course, a boyfriend’s words must be heeded.’

She then sent me photos of her room, ‘See, I have a small storage room, it’s packed.’

‘So, aren’t you curious about what’s outside the door?’ she asked again.

‘Curious, but I’m afraid of dying!’

I thought this was the most standard answer.

2

I hear more than just the scratching at the door.

‘Walter, hurry out, if you don’t come out, you’ll die!’

I’ve heard this voice for two years; it belongs to my bunkmate Ross, who is known as a love expert.

Ross, if you could talk a bit more, I would chat with you for a couple of bucks.

But it’s been three nights in a row, he’s outside at 12 AM sharp, repeating that I’ll die if I don’t come out.

Tonight seems different, though. The scratching at the door is quieter and more urgent. Meanwhile, I feel something flash by the window.

‘Walter, hurry out, if you don’t come out, you’ll die!’

People who go out disappear, that’s a fact.

‘Walter, hurry out, if you don’t come out, it’ll be too late!’

Too late? What will happen?

I don’t know Ross’s current state—alive? Dead? Or somewhere in between?

Do those who go out call others to go out from the doorway?

This sounds like a tongue twister, but it’s a ‘death question.’

My door is an old iron door, no peephole, no security chain, I must open it to see outside.

The window faces east, I carefully peek through a slit in the curtain, only some moonlight seeps in. Strangely, this faint moonlight seems to obscure my view.

My phone screen lit up on the desk, startling me.

It’s my online girlfriend.

Ada: ‘Walter, my good friend was taken.’

Such things happen every day, but to experience it personally, I understand her fear and sadness.

Ada: ‘Why didn’t she listen, why go out? Going out means death, why go out!’

‘Walter, hurry out, if you don’t come out, you’ll die!!’

I didn’t know how to comfort a girl, and Ross was calling again outside. A sudden irritation surged in my heart.

‘Repeating the same thing, what are you? If you’re really Ross, tell me how to comfort a girl first!’

The scratching and Ross’s voice stopped abruptly.

Damn, did I say some keyword?

Ignoring my phone, I crawled out of my blanket fortress, cautiously moving toward the door.

There was truly no sound, outside was as quiet as any other night.

Ada: ‘Walter, are you still there? I’m really scared, my phone only has 10% battery left, otherwise, I’d call you.’

I was about to type a reply when a hair-raising voice sounded in my ear.

‘Walter, are you behind the door? Listen carefully.’

‘To comfort a girl, first listen to her, because she might not be looking for you to solve her problem, but just needs someone to vent to. Then you can give her a hug… or send a hug and head-patting emoji.’

What kind of horror plot is this?

At 1:30 AM, my possibly dead or alive buddy was outside teaching me how to comfort a girl?

Ada: ‘Walter, are you still there?!’

WhatsApp on the other end seemed anxious to confirm if I was listening.

Me: ‘I’m here.’

My fingers paused, then I sent a bear patting a rabbit emoji.

‘Walter, it’s Ross, I’m not dead, but if you don’t come out, I will die.’

‘How do you prove you’re Ross?’

I steadied myself, nights like this had happened several times, draining me mentally and physically.

Nighttime, originally a time for humans to relax, had become the most nerve-wracking period in the past week.

‘Do you remember my girlfriend from last semester? The beauty from the music department.’

Ross dating the department beauty was known to everyone in our class, not a secret.

‘But this semester, she came to our dorm to break up with me, saying I cheated. I denied it, and you advised her to trust me.’

That did happen, but it wasn’t a secret either.

‘I did cheat.’

Ross’ voice was clear and firm, as usual.

Screw you, you scumbag!

‘Walter, you snore and talk in your sleep, you said you…’

‘Ring, Ring, Ring——’

A WhatsApp call came through, it was my girlfriend.

Didn’t she say her phone only had 10% battery?

‘Walter!’

‘Walter!’

They called my name in unison, a name I had for 21 years, suddenly feeling strange.

‘Who is she?!’

‘Who is he?!’

At 3 AM, something more terrifying than a week of scratching happened in my home.

Separated by a door and a phone, outside was the voice claiming to be my buddy, inside was the voice of my girlfriend I knew for three days.

Ada’s voice sounded like a cute girl’s, soft and urgent.

The silence spread from the phone to the room, then to outside the door.

A minute later, she hung up the call.

No battery left? Or too scared?

I quickly messaged her—

Me: ‘Ada, are you there?’

No response.

When I tried calling: ‘Ross?’

No sound from the other side of the door either.

The scratching at the door, which had become so quiet I ignored it, gradually grew louder, resonating with the scratching from the neighboring house, just like the previous nights.

3

At 5 AM, everything settled down.

But one thing changed: I remembered what happened last night.

I was too tired, couldn’t hold on, and fell asleep. When I woke up, it was 9 AM.

After a brief confusion, I jumped up like electrocuted, the sunlight peeking through the curtain reminded me it was daytime.

Damn!

Such terrifying things happen at night!

With trembling hands, I pulled the curtain open, the sunlight pouring in gave me a sense of reality and courage.

But then I froze, there seemed to be scratch marks on the window frame, like from a sharp object or a beast’s claws.

‘Knock, knock, knock!’

The sudden knocking startled me.

I hadn’t reached the door when my phone rang.

‘Walter, hurry and open the door!’

It was my friend from college knocking. Due to skin issues, I didn’t live in the dorm, renting a one-bedroom near campus instead.

I opened the door, and he complained: ‘What’s up with you, you promised to help with the club today!’

Only then did I remember, today was the meet-and-greet for new and old club members after recruitment, and I promised to show up.

‘Oh man, if you don’t show, the boss lady will be furious and take it out on us. You know next year’s students are basically here for you!’

He seemed just like playing games until midnight, then having a good sleep, and waking up refreshed the next day.

Could it be that only I remember last night?

I tentatively asked, “How was your night yesterday?”

He looked at me with a strange expression, “I was great, won ten games in a row.”

“Yesterday… it seemed like there was a power outage at my place for a while.”

“Maybe it was a tripped breaker.”

“Did you hear any sounds last night?”

“What sounds?”

“…”

“Why aren’t you talking? Last night… did you overdo it?” He grinned mischievously, raising his eyebrows in a perverted manner.

“I didn’t sleep well,” I replied seriously.

“Got it, got it. Hey, I say, why don’t you find a girlfriend next year?”

Ignoring his teasing, I asked one last question, “Did you see Ross today?”

“Ross? Isn’t he in Chicago for the robotics competition? Come on, you’re not serious, are you? You were the one who saw him leave.”

Nonsense! Of course, I know he’s at the competition.

But how do I tell you that he was scratching at my door all last night?

I decided to check the club to see how everyone else was doing.

All the way, he chattered non-stop, making it impossible for me to check my phone. I wanted to know how Ada was doing.

In the past few days, everyone would forget the night’s horrors upon waking up, going to work or school as usual.

It might sound impossible, but the fact is:

Everything is normal during the day, but the night is terrifying.

This was the first time I wanted to contact that girl during the day.

At the club, I finally got rid of my noisy classmate and walked to a corner to take out my phone.

No messages.

The ‘ Doomsday Survival Guide’ group chat, Ada, their WhatsApp were all gone.

I searched through the list, a total of 57 contacts, 3 groups, but none of them were there.

Others were busy preparing for the meet-up, with snacks and decorations on the tables. They looked happy. Seeing their smiles, I felt a chill down my spine.

I found a corner, half-covered by a curtain, and took out a blank piece of paper and a pen.

When my thoughts are chaotic, I have a habit of writing to organize them.

4

It is known that the city is normal during the day, and there are no reports of strange occurrences anywhere in the world. Everyone forgets the scratching sounds at night.

The night broadcasts must be working, with fewer people going out and naturally fewer disappearances. Earth has a population of 6 billion, with tens of thousands missing each day. Even if they disappear after going out at night, it wouldn’t attract government attention.

The question is, why does the power always return to normal during the day?

In the power system, electricity is not stored.

Electricity production, transmission, distribution, and usage are always in dynamic balance. The amount of electricity generated is transmitted directly. A powerful national grid can ensure power supply, even during peak usage in large cities during summer, with only localized power cuts.

This global power outage at midnight has never occurred since Faraday invented the electric motor.

Excluding scientific explanations and logic, it can only be explained through mysticism.

Writing down the words “mysticism,” I laughed, covering my face.

Does this even need analysis?

Am I expecting Einstein or Newton to explain what I’m experiencing?

I sighed and continued writing.

It is known that there is indeed a self-help organization and Ada’s WhatsApp at night.

I paused, leading to a second question:

Why is there internet during a power outage?

If major countries have emergency measures like satellite communication, backup power, etc.,

But the fact at night is: these are all ineffective, the government loses control, or rather—they have no way to contact the government.

So, is the self-help group real?

I suddenly got scared.

In the past abnormal week, I never thought of contacting anyone I knew in reality.

At midnight, all my attention was on that door. My fear came from outside the door, my hope from the self-help organization.

I was like a fish flopping between a puddle and land, gasping in confusion.

It is known, I don’t know if the self-help organization is real.

It is known, I personally saw Ross off to the robotics competition, which lasts half a month, so he couldn’t be back.

It is known, Ross was outside my door, scratching and calling me to come out, saying he’d die if I didn’t.

It is known, my girlfriend of three days is missing.

It is known, besides the scratching sounds, there seemed to be something outside the window last night. Could this be related to what Ross said, “It’s too late?”

……

“Walter, what are you doing?”

A heavy pat on my shoulder, it was a clubmate.

“Nothing, do you need me to do something?”

“You need to give a speech later, are you ready?”

I suddenly remembered, I did agree to say a few words.

I must say, the freshmen this year are full of energy. At 10 am sharp, everyone was present.

“Next, let’s have our club’s veteran artist, Walter, say a few words!”

What’s with that official-sounding introduction?

I stood up, walked to the podium, and looked at the expectant new members. Suddenly, I felt impulsive.

“If you contact me tonight, I’ll tell you a shocking secret!”

There was an uproar in the small club activity room.

“Hahaha, no, Walter is just joking with everyone, Hahaha.”

Except for the president’s awkward laugh, everyone else looked puzzled, whispering to each other. I even heard the girls discussing.

“Isn’t Walter supposed to be gentle and refined? This doesn’t seem right.”

“What’s with his look? Desperate?”

“It’s over, my artistic youth has turned into a creepy senior…”

“Seriously, bro, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Or are you here to cause trouble?”

The president pulled me aside, muttering, “If you have any issues, just tell me. I’ll help you.”

I was completely at a loss, not understanding what he was talking about.

“I’m fine. You have to contact me tonight. Don’t you like gaming? Stay up till midnight and rank with me. I’ll help you level up.”

He looked “panicked,” patting my back, “What’s wrong with you? Possessed by a ghost?”

I never played games with others, only solo. To me, playing games was just an action with a set goal. I didn’t need any emotions from social interactions, except with Ross.

“Walter, can I add your WhatsApp?”

A girl with a ponytail, blushing, stood up and spoke loudly, silencing the room.

“If we want to contact you, we need your WhatsApp first.” She waved her phone, and the girl next to her pulled at her sleeve.

I turned and wrote my WhatsApp number on the blackboard, quickly leaving the activity room.

As I left, I saw her still standing there, looking at me with determination. Her courage made me feel a bit regretful.

Was I being really stupid just now?

But I had no choice. I had to quickly figure out if it was really the end of the world and how to solve this problem.

It is known, I haven’t contacted anyone at night, so have others contacted each other?

So, tonight I need to contact people I know and have my friends contact me.

5

For the first time in my life, I eagerly awaited nightfall.

Speaking of arrival, I thought of Cthulhu, which they mentioned in the group chat.

Hugging a blanket, I started daydreaming.

If it’s really Cthulhu scratching the door… no, it must be a minion. A Dark God like Cthulhu wouldn’t personally scratch doors, right?

Even with countless tentacles, it couldn’t scratch every door, right?

What if someone has several houses, would there be scratching sounds at empty houses?

Or must someone be living there?

If it’s really Cthulhu, then it’s truly unsolvable.

This is like a two-dimensional foil attack on Earth.

I knew I was nervous. I admit it, because when I’m nervous, I like to ramble, like an old man.

I charged my phone early, not preparing any lithium battery devices like power banks, as they weren’t needed.

I didn’t even turn on my computer.

Knowing that selective internet disconnection had nothing to do with devices.

At 11 o’clock sharp, my girlfriend came online.

Ada: “I’m not feeling well today, maybe the milk I drank last night was expired.”

Seeing this message, my heart clenched as if someone had grabbed it.

Not because I felt sorry for my girlfriend, but—

Her WhatsApp only appears at night!

Her profile picture, chat history, even her moments were all there, exactly the same as the night before.

Me: “Drink some hot water…”

Halfway through, I suddenly remembered, Ross once seriously told me, when a girl complains about feeling unwell, never say to drink more hot water.

At midnight, the scratching at the door started on time. Holding my phone and blanket, I leaned against the door, knowing that Ross would definitely be there tonight.

“Walter, come out quickly, you can only survive if you come out.”

Today’s words changed a bit. Before, it was not coming out would mean death, now coming out means survival.

“Walter, don’t believe him!”

Ada suddenly sent a message with a terrified emoji.

“Walter, I know this seems absurd to you, but trust me, I’m your best buddy, I won’t lie to you!”

“Walter, don’t be swayed by him. Those who go out disappear. You mustn’t open the door!”

Ada made sense. The only thing I could confirm was that those who went out disappeared. Staying inside was safe for now, but I felt something was off, though I couldn’t pinpoint it…

“Walter, how long have we known each other? Now you trust a girlfriend you’ve only known for three days more than me?”

Ross knew me well. I’ve always been defenseless against emotional cards, but the sense of discord grew stronger, there must be a clue I missed.

“Walter, you’ve always been like this, overly cautious, indecisive. Use your brain! If I wanted to harm you, I would’ve convinced you a hundred thousand times! I only ask one question, who told you that going out at night leads to disappearance? Are you sure those who disappeared did so because they went out at night? Not because they stayed inside like you?”

“Walter, don’t listen to him! I never understood why people would go out at night despite the eerie events, but now I get it, they must’ve been swayed like this!”

“Walter! Damn it, in the past two years, have I ever lied to you?” I actually heard a hint of a sob in Ross’s voice, “In freshman year, I took you around the campus, saying I’m a local, you could always stay at my place. I know you don’t like washing your hair or socks, buying seven pairs, wearing one a week before tossing them; the class beauty next door is your type, you also like virtual idols, you’ve never been in a relationship. Who knows you better than me, Ross?”

For a moment, I was moved.

Though Ross’s words were a mess, we had lived together for two years. I had always been a loner, and he was my first friend who stayed up and ate with me. He was my best friend.

I couldn’t help but ask myself, “Would Ross, my closest friend, really harm me?”

No, something felt off, increasingly so.

Before I could think further, Ross let out a standard cold laugh: “Walter,

I know I have no evidence to back up my words, but does this woman have any evidence? Ask yourself, how long have you known her? Why do you listen to her so obediently? This doesn’t seem like you at all, does it?”

I have to admit, Ross really understands me. Every word he says hits the mark. If they had tried to persuade me like this yesterday, I might have wavered.

My phone kept vibrating. When I looked down, I saw that all the messages were from Ada. I could even sense a hint of pleading in her words, “Walter, please don’t go out. Trust me, okay? I won’t harm you!”

Looking at the WhatsApp chat on my phone, the clues I had previously missed started to come together.

Won’t harm me? Haha.

…

Although both Ross and Ada seem suspicious, Ross has a point.

Why had I never doubted the so-called Doomsday Survival Guide before today? Is it a human instinct to huddle together for warmth?

No, that doesn’t seem right.

Ada said that it would be a shame to die in the apocalypse without experiencing love. But out of all the people in the group, why did she choose me?

The scratching at the door gradually entered my ears and transmitted to my brain, like a small knife scraping along my neural pathways. I could almost feel that slight pain—bearable, but each cut amplified my fear.

Finally, the small knife grazed a neuron on the left side of my brain, leaving a tiny gap. Blood rushed to my brain, sending chills throughout my body, amplifying my fear with each passing second.

I fought the overwhelming urge to scream:

“Allow me to introduce,” I said, taking a deep breath, my tone unconsciously tinged with sarcasm, “the person outside the door is my roommate, my best friend Ross; on WhatsApp is my girlfriend, Ada.”

Both of them fell silent simultaneously, surprisingly in sync.

“Now I have a small question for you two to help me answer.” I shook my phone, the screen’s light shining especially brightly in the dark room.

“Ada and I are chatting on WhatsApp, and Ross, you’re standing at my door. How are you two managing to have such seamless conversations?

“Also, Ross, I don’t think I ever mentioned how long Ada and I have known each other, did I? Is this some sort of apocalypse-induced superpower or…

“Is the Ross outside the door actually Ada?”

I struggled to control my emotions—fear of the unknown? Anger at being tricked?

But the atmosphere suddenly fell into a dead silence. Neither Ross nor Ada continued to “speak.” Only the persistent scratching at the door kept irritating my nerves. Just when I was about to break, Ross suddenly brought up a completely unrelated topic.

“Haha,” a cold laugh came from outside the door. I had never heard such a harsh tone from him before:

“Two weeks ago, we went to that competition together, remember?”