The door lock was dismantled, but the killer didn't come in.

Two days ago, I bought a bold anti-theft chain online, which hindered his actions.

The chain connected the door to the wall, leaving only a gap wide enough for an arm to squeeze through.

The person in the rabbit-head mask roared in anger.

He tilted his body and desperately tried to squeeze in.

His strong arms reached in to search and attempted to remove the chain.

The chain was on the verge of breaking!

I tightly gripped the knife in my hand and stabbed fiercely at the leather gloves.

It had the sensation of piercing through bones.

The blade penetrated the leather gloves, and blood flowed down through the gap in the door.

The killer stopped moving, and his emotions were concealed beneath the mask.

After a few seconds of pause,

he turned around and left.

The tip of the knife stained my fingertips with blood. The sticky and damp sensation made me nauseous, but I dared not throw it away. It was my only lifesaving weapon.

Trembling, I held the knife and walked unsteadily towards the door. Cold sweat drenched my hair.

Every cell in my body was pulsating, and my hearing was sensitive enough to perceive the direction of the wind.

Outside the door was eerily quiet; it seemed he had truly left.

My phone had been incessantly ringing just now.

With such commotion, the group chat was probably filled with inquiries about what had happened.

I didn't have time to check the group chat. I dialed the emergency number, but before it could connect, I heard faint footsteps in the corridor.

He... has he come back again?