Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [92]

Just as Kitahara Takeru was debating whether to head back down, he suddenly heard a creaking sound—Creak~

His instincts made him glance in the direction of the noise.

In his field of vision, a vivid red door—like it was pushed by the wind, or perhaps by someone inside—began to open slowly, inch by inch, right before his eyes.

The paint on the door looked fresh, not yet dry. Bright red liquid dripped steadily from it… eerily, in complete silence.

Peering through the widening crack, the room beyond was swallowed in chilling darkness.

A corner of the curtain had been lifted, and cold, silvery moonlight spilled through the window, casting a patch of pale light on the floor.

Squinting, Takeru could just make out a person lying on the bed. Even from the staircase, he could clearly hear the heavy, labored breathing coming from that bed.

One glance at this scene was enough to make his scalp tingle.

Retreat. Retreat. Retreat!

Even though he knew it was all just people in costumes, fear was fear.

Screw awkwardness—if he didn’t leave right now, he was seriously going to pass out from fright.

Trying not to make a sound, afraid the figure on the bed might suddenly sit up, Takeru locked his gaze on it while slowly backing away.

One step. Two steps. Huh?

On the third step down, something bumped into his calf.

Takeru’s whole body stiffened instantly.

He was sure there had been nothing on the stairs earlier.

And that sensation—how to describe it?

It didn’t feel like an object. More like… a person.

Stay calm, Kitahara Takeru. They’re all actors. It’s all just people in costumes. He repeated it to himself like a mantra.

Suddenly—

“La la la la la la la~”

A ghostly, ethereal voice floated through the room.

“La la la la la la la…”

That eerie melody echoing in his ears—Takeru couldn’t help cursing out loud. “FUCK!”

They were playing Jigoku Shōjo’s BGM—Ketsueki Manyuu.

The tragic, sorrowful tune layered over an already spine-chilling atmosphere sent his anxiety into overdrive. His breathing grew heavier, more ragged.

No wonder this haunted house had near-perfect reviews.

It was terrifying enough as-is. But with something unknown brushing against his leg, Kitahara Takeru was losing it.

He clenched his teeth, took a breath, and stomped down hard—then turned to look behind him.

What he saw was a child—pale as a corpse three days postmortem, eyes the only spots of black on a ghost-white face—crouched beside his leg.

The boy stared up at Takeru blankly, expressionless.

For a second, their eyes locked. Takeru’s mind went completely blank.

“Geh geh geh…”

From upstairs came a new sound—something dragging itself, scraping across the steps.

Takeru turned with trembling limbs to look.

A woman, drenched in blood, her neck twisted unnaturally to one side, was crawling down the stairs toward him through the gloom.

The cinematic setting, the haunting song, the whole blood-drenched spectacle—Takeru’s psyche reached its breaking point.

The ghost child and the crawling lady delivered the final blow. The last straw.

Everyone knows that extreme fear can push people to their limits—triggering rage, impulse, raw survival instinct.

Kitahara Takeru was no exception.

Without a word, he raised his elbow and swung it down at the little ghost boy.

But the boy, clearly experienced in these matters, rolled away on instinct—like he’d practiced this scene countless times—barely dodging the blow.

This, too, was the fruit of being elbowed one too many times.

Those survival lessons? They’d just saved his life.

As both the ghost child and the crawling woman looked on in shock, Kitahara Takeru’s elbow smashed straight through the wooden handrail, splitting the pillar clean in two.

The two actors could only stare wide-eyed.

Bro… what are you, Black Mamba?!

What kind of elbow power is that?!

Doesn’t that hurt?!

Neither dared to imagine what would’ve happened if that elbow had landed on them.

Then, finally shifting their gaze back to Takeru—they saw a young man with dilated pupils, rapid, ragged breaths, and shaking hands and legs.

No way… is he one of those people Sensei warned me about? the crawling woman suddenly thought.

Her aikido instructor had once explained: there are some people who, when pushed to the edge of fear or rage—or when entering physical conflict—start trembling.

If you encounter someone like that, do not engage.

Because their adrenaline spikes much higher than normal. Once they start fighting, their mind goes blank. They don’t know what they’re doing.

They don’t hold back. Ever.

Put simply—

Brain: Hey bro, calm down, be rational.

Adrenaline: I’ve buffed you—GO, KING, GO.

“You go up, I go down.”

Without missing a beat, the ghost boy and crawling woman exchanged glances—then split up. One ran upstairs, the other bolted downward.

Kitahara Takeru stopped trembling.

He stood upright and, without hesitation, chased after the woman in blood.

His brain tried desperately to restrain him, but his body was pumping adrenaline like mad. His heart thundered like a war drum. And as the final chains of reason shattered—

—the hunt began.

Just as he was about to catch her, the crawling woman darted into a side room and slammed the door shut. BANG!

“Holy crap, I thought I was done for…”

She clutched her chest, trying to steady her breath as it heaved.

But before she could even exhale—

BAM!

The door rattled violently.

She suddenly realized—

This door… might not be all that sturdy.

Frantically, she pulled out her walkie-talkie. “Nanami, do you copy? I need backup!”

---

Surveillance Room.

Aoyama Nanami stared at the screen as Kitahara Takeru, eyes wild, repeatedly slammed his elbow into the door—like pain didn’t exist.

She swallowed hard.

Terrifying.

She never would've imagined that the usually gentle and mild-mannered Kitahara Takeru could go so completely unhinged.

But in hindsight… aren’t most criminal profiles built around the “quiet, polite types”?

Lesson learned: never provoke the calm ones.

“…Did I ever talk back to the manager?”

Nanami began mentally reviewing her own history with Takeru, wondering if she’d ever raised her voice at him.

“Nanami! Do you hear me?! I need backup!”

The desperate call snapped her back to attention. She grabbed the mic and replied, “Koyasu-senpai, hang in there! I’ve already called for help!”

---

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

Downstairs, the group could hear the dull thuds echoing from above.

Shijō Maki clutched Kashiwagi Nagisa’s hand tightly. Her voice trembled. “What the hell’s happening up there…?”

Nagisa was just as tense.

She had no idea, either.

“Why isn’t Takeru back yet? Don’t tell me something happened to him…” Maki sounded genuinely worried.

“What are you saying? It’s just a haunted house. There’s no such thing as real ghosts,” Nagisa tried to reassure her.

“Maybe we should go check on him?” Tanuma Tsubasa suggested.

“Alright.”

The three of them made their way to the staircase.

But just as they reached the bottom step, a ghostly pale boy bolted down past them.

Oh thank god, the boy thought, spotting the trio like long-lost family.

He nearly wept.

Salvation!

“You—” he started, but—

“AAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Shijō Maki let out a blood-curdling scream before he could finish the sentence. Where she got the strength, no one knew, but she grabbed Nagisa with one hand and Tsubasa with the other and took off like she was running the 100-meter dash.

“Wait—stop! Please, stop!!”

The ghost boy panicked.

Why are you running?!

He’d completely forgotten how terrifying he looked in full makeup.

He chased after them.

Shijō Maki saw him coming and nearly broke down sobbing.

“Don’t come any closer!!” she shrieked.

---

Aoyama Nanami watched the footage of Kashiwagi Nagisa and the others being chased by a ghost child.

And finally—she felt like the haunted house was operating exactly as it should.

---

T/N: fight or flight? murder

This is a fan translation of 不是说只拿我当替身的吗？by 雪碧加冰. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!