恐怖故事分享地

After encountering such an unexpected event, none of the four of us could sleep for the rest of the night. We stayed up until half past two. Everyone got up and made preparations to depart. Then, precisely at three o'clock, we formed ranks and set off towards the U Glacier route. As mentioned before, climbing a glacier, while not requiring the high-difficulty techniques of rock climbing or the physical exertion of altitudes above 8000 meters, is something that absolutely cannot be taken lightly. Even for seasoned veterans, the fatality rate from slipping and falling on a glacier is no less than that of some highly difficult vertical slopes. Because glaciers are constantly moving, walking on them, you can often hear the sound of ice cracking. The ever-changing compression and displacement of the ice layers create one death trap after another, repeating and alternating. This not only tests the climber's judgment but also tests the climber's own luck. A senior climber once described glaciers like this: 'A glacier is like a giant roulette wheel. If you pass safely today, it's just because you didn't hit snake eyes. But your companions might not be so lucky, and you won't always be lucky either.' We proceeded in pairs, with shifts every half hour. While the leading pair set up aluminum ladders, measured ice thickness, and determined the route, the trailing pair was responsible for carrying luggage and resting. Around half past six, Mita and I took over the luggage, and Chen and Wang went ahead. That's when the sun rose. Golden rays streamed in from the east. The summit of Mt. K, which had been shrouded in clouds for days, cleared. The azure mountain body was covered in white snow.

If there are categories of 'good death' and 'bad death' even on a mountain, I'd classify dying from a fall or freezing to death from hypothermia as the 'good' kind. But being buried alive by an avalanche is definitely one of my top three 'bad death' scenarios. Especially being buried in my sleep, along with my tent and sleeping bag. That's the stuff of nightmares that haunts mountaineers in the quiet of the night. Sure enough, within ten seconds, I saw Chen Ming and Wang Yi also burst out of their tents, disheveled. And in this pitch-black night, the four of us could only kneel down together, and pray to the heavens in the language our mothers taught us, not to let us die here tonight. But on the other hand, we also knew in our hearts, that the ultimate fate of those who love mountains is to sleep forever in them. To live out one's days peacefully like Sir Edmund Hillary, is considered extremely rare among mountain enthusiasts. At the annual mountaineer gatherings, there are always some new friends, and some familiar faces are fewer. Every so often, we hear that someone has been seriously injured and can no longer climb, or that someone went on a trip and never returned. No matter how skilled you are, or how much stamina you have, if you keep challenging the mountains, one day the mountain will keep you. Fortunately, perhaps our time hadn't come yet. After another thirty to forty seconds, the tremendous noise finally stopped. Chen Ming went back to the tent and got a large flashlight. After surveying the surroundings, we discovered that about three hundred meters from our BC, a medium-sized avalanche had occurred. Although the scale wasn't large, we were thankful to heaven that it didn't come towards our tent. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here telling this story today.

However, I had a strange dream. I dreamt of a very majestic and steep mountain. The azure mountain body was covered with a little bit of white snow. Then I saw a white stag. Although it was called a stag, its size was abnormally huge. About the size of a North American grizzly bear? No, maybe even a bit bigger. The stag's large antlers shimmered with a golden light. I've seen that kind of golden light several times. The most recent time was on Kangchenjunga. It's the unique golden light that appears when the first rays of light illuminate the mountaintop at dawn. The entire snow-capped peak shines with the sunrise. As I was staring blankly, I realized the white stag was gazing at me with a majestic and proud expression. I felt guilty for a moment and avoided eye contact. Perhaps it was just my imagination. It felt like the white stag showed a contemptuous sneer. Then it turned its head and slowly left. At that moment, I noticed a silver-gray wolf behind the white stag. It was glaring at me with a furious expression. When the wolf glared at me, my whole body stiffened and I broke out in a cold sweat. My limbs were completely immobile. The wolf let out an indescribable roar. It was nothing like any wolf howl anyone has ever heard. If anything, it sounded like the deafening noise of a train, a truck, or a passing airplane. I thought to myself, 'This is bad.' Suddenly, I woke up from the dream. Without wearing anything, I grabbed Mita and rushed out of the tent. Mita was still groggy, mumbling, "What the hell are you doing, you bastard?" But she quickly came to her senses. Experienced climbers fear hearing such sounds. Especially when heard in their sleep.

For those who don't climb mountains, it might be difficult to understand why we choose to start climbing at 3 AM, a time with poor visibility and when people are tired. Regarding this, those who haven't personally climbed a glacier cannot truly experience its dangers. Unlike other parts of the mountain, a glacier can be said to be alive. It changes constantly, and you must proceed with extreme caution, step by step. One wrong move could lead to a fall into a crevasse tens of feet deep. Even if you don't die on the spot, unless you can be quickly rescued by your companions, the cold moisture will rapidly drain your body heat, leading to death by hypothermia. If you're lucky enough to fall on a gentle slope, the least severe outcome is a sprain or fracture, while severe cases could result in a concussion or immediate death. Therefore, experienced mountaineers try to avoid lingering on glaciers for too long. They choose to climb during the cooler early morning hours. At this time, the glacier's movement is slowest, and the ice is relatively stable. This minimizes the variables that could lead to an accident. On this particular night, we turned off the lights and rested at 8 PM, to conserve energy for the next day's journey. As usual, it's hard to sleep soundly at high altitudes. However, since Mita and I had just returned from Kangchenjunga, our acclimatization at base camp was going well. So, we managed to get some broken sleep.

Logically, both Mita and I, having just returned to the country, should have rested sufficiently for a while. However, given the mountaineering accident involving the joint expedition team, Mr. Kitai, who led the team, was Mita's former mentor from their university days. Furthermore, Mita and Kiyoko, Mr. Kitai's only daughter, were in a somewhat ambiguous relationship. As soon as we arrived at the border, without even returning home, we boarded another plane. We joined a search and rescue team and headed to China. Unfortunately, the journey was long and coincided with the Lunar New Year period, so snow remained un-melted everywhere along the way. By the time the search and rescue team finally reached the base camp location, a week had already passed since the incident. In terms of rescue, it was almost certain they had perished. However, Mita still held onto a sliver of hope, believing a miracle might happen. Upon arriving at the base camp, we quickly rendezvoused with the Chinese rescue team. After receiving a briefing, we rapidly divided the ascent routes and waited for favorable weather to head up the mountain. Our team, besides Mita and myself, included Chen Ming and Wang Yi from China. Both were seasoned mountaineers, having recently succeeded in an unassisted Everest ascent. After some deliberation and yielding to each other, it was decided that Chen Ming would be the team leader, and Mita would be the liaison. We were scheduled to depart the next day at 0300, heading towards the missing team's C2 position via the R1 route on the U Glacier.

*The original is a long horror story, and due to character limits, I can only post it in multiple parts. This uncle, let's call him Uncle Ishikawa for now. From here on, the story will be told from a first-person perspective. The story begins with a mountaineering accident in the 1990s. The M Mountain, where the incident occurred, is located within present-day China. It's quite a remote location. Since ancient times, it has been considered a sacred mountain by the local people. However, with the rise of mountaineering enthusiasm starting in the 19th century, lonely high peaks around the world were conquered one by one. Only the K peak of the M mountain range remained an unclimbed virgin peak above 6000 meters. Several senior mountaineers had previously hoped to reach the summit and make history, but they always failed. This year, Japan's K University and the Chinese mountaineering team formed a large expedition to attempt the summit. When they were very close to the summit, the weather suddenly changed, and heavy snow began to fall. The climbing team had to reluctantly abandon their attempt. After overcoming several difficulties, they descended to rendezvous with the others. But then, in just one night, the mountain suddenly shook and the ground trembled. The entire mountaineering team of over ten people suffered an unknown disaster overnight and all contact was lost. When the news reached Japan, the entire nation was naturally shocked. A search and rescue team was immediately formed, recruiting renowned climbers from various fields. Among them were myself and Mita, who had just returned from Kangchenjunga after a near-death experience, ultimately abandoning the summit attempt and barely making it back.

Don't turn on the lights tonight. In the middle of the night, I received a text from my girlfriend: "There's a ghost in the room, save me quick!" I rushed to her place and saw her huddled in the covers, trembling. "Where's the ghost?" I asked, gripping my baseball bat. She pointed a shaky finger at the closet: "It just… crawled into your shadow." I looked down, and the shadow on the floor was slowly raising its head. My phone vibrated violently in the dead of night, the screen lighting up with my girlfriend's text: "Ghost in room, save me!" My heart skipped a beat. I grabbed my baseball bat and bolted out the door. Kicking open her front door, the living room was dead silent, the bedroom lamp flickering erratically. She was curled up under the covers, only her eyes visible, shivering uncontrollably. "Where is it?" I asked, gripping my bat, lowering my voice. She slowly reached out, her fingertips pointing rigidly at the closet door behind me, her voice choked with tears: "It just… it just crawled into your shadow." A chill crawled up my spine from my feet to the back of my head. I instinctively looked down – on the floor, my shadow was contorting, slowly lifting its head, a silent grin splitting the featureless face.

The post on the PPT Marvel board has been deleted, only the Bahamut board has discussions left. The story's prototype is based on the 1991 mountaineering accident of the Sino-Japanese joint expedition team on Meili Snow Mountain (also known as Kawagebo Peak) in Yunnan, China. Those interested can check out the more detailed discussion on the Bahamut board, and there are also related documentaries available online. The chilling feeling I got after reading this story back then still lingers in my mind. Main Story: This incident is something I heard about during my study abroad days in Japan. One time, my friend and I decided to hike Mount Tsukuba together. On the way down, we apparently took a wrong turn at a fork in the path. We ended up taking a really long detour. Luckily, we met a kind uncle who not only guided us down the mountain but also treated us to oden -3- When the uncle heard that my friend with me was an international student from China, he seemed to recall something sad, and tears started to well up in his eyes. After downing some sake at an izakaya, the uncle began to tell his story. It turned out that day was the anniversary of his best friend's death. Both he and his best friend were passionate about mountains. Unfortunately, his friend had died on a high mountain in a foreign land. Now, every year on this day, he goes hiking on Mount Tsukuba near his home to commemorate him. Logically, the story should have ended there. My friend was just being a smart aleck........ He insisted on asking how the friend died....... Well, the result was not good. After hearing the story, my friend and I were too spooked to sleep that night. We ended up finding a karaoke place and singing all night long. It wasn't until the next day that we shakily made our way back to our accommodation. For an entire week, just thinking about that story gave me goosebumps all over.....

Sometime early this morning, my cat started meowing to get into the covers. I lifted the blanket, and it skillfully crawled in, then settled onto my belly. Feeling its weight, I quickly fell back asleep. After an unknown amount of time. In a state between sleep and wakefulness, I suddenly heard a sound from my right. Knock, knock. It sounded like someone lightly tapping on wood. I gradually became more aware but didn't open my eyes. I was sure—the cat was still on my belly. I live alone on the third floor, and the other areas are just for my family's plants. No one could possibly come up at this hour. What was that sound next to me? After a while, just as I was about to fall asleep again— Rustle, rustle. This time, I finally turned my head to look. The cat was sitting right beside me, nonchalantly grooming itself. ...So it was you all along🤣 I breathed a sigh of relief and reached down to touch my belly. It was empty. And then it suddenly hit me. When did the cat leave? ————— What happened this morning has a real 2ch creepypasta vibe, doesn't it?🤣

Outside the hospital room window, birds chirped and flowers bloomed, while a nurse gently changed my IV drip. I moved my fingers and noticed an old red string bracelet on my right wrist. The doctor approached, looking at me with surprise. "You're finally awake. You've been in a coma for seven days due to severe gas poisoning in that old shared room." So, was all of this just a long nightmare born from a lack of oxygen to my brain? No laboratory, no evil spirits, and no Room 404. I chuckled self-deprecatingly. The nerves that had been taut for twenty days finally relaxed completely. I completed the discharge procedures, tidied up my emotions, and prepared to return to ordinary reality. However, as I walked out of the hospital and hailed a taxi, the driver turned back with a warm smile and asked, "Young man, where are you headed?" On impulse, I gave him the address of the new place my cousin had found for me. Upon hearing it, the driver's smile vanished. He glanced at me strangely through the rearview mirror, hesitating to speak. "What's wrong?" I asked, puzzled. The driver took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "It's nothing... It's just that the apartment building had a fire last month. They say an old landlord burned to death there. Also, the room numbers in that building are really weird; there are only two rooms on each floor." "Which two?" My heart skipped a beat. The driver gripped the steering wheel and said softly, "Room 403, and Room 405." (End of Series)