I am a beauty blogger with only a few thousand followers.

My main job every day is to livestream until the early hours of the morning.

"My darlings, this product is really good. I always bring it with me when I go out to play."

I speak with a dry mouth, and every host has their own selling point. My selling point is my eyes.

Without saying anything else, at least my eyes are natural, genuine, and untouched by surgery.

The barrage keeps scrolling: "Bought it."

One of the long barrages repeatedly flashes on the screen, catching my attention: "Blogger, I sent you my head, please help me with makeup."

A feeling of disgust flashes through my mind. I've taught it so carefully, and they still don't know how? Just hurry up and place an order, what's the point of talking?

Ignoring that barrage, I checked the time and it was already 2 a.m., so I decisively ended the livestream and went to remove my makeup, preparing to take a shower.

The warm water sliding down my shoulders and neck briefly awakened my exhausted brain,

and it made me realize that besides the sound of water, there were other noises in my ears.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The sound grew louder and clearer, coming closer, as if someone was climbing the stairs with firm and resolute steps, without any hesitation.

Who is it?

I held my breath, cautiously put on my bathrobe, and stared at the misty glass door.

The strange sound stopped as well, so I relaxed, thinking it might have been an auditory hallucination caused by fatigue.

Back in the living room, just as I closed the computer, someone knocked on the door.

Strangely, when a normal person knocks on the door, the sound should be at the upper part of the door, but this knocking sound was concentrated at the very bottom of the door, almost touching the ground.

And it was the exact same thumping sound as before.

I've had a car accident and forgotten everything before the accident. My brain also occasionally experiences painful spasms, so this sound is torture to me.

I buried myself in the blanket, trying to block out the surrounding noise.

But the sound became more and more intrusive, stomping on my temples repeatedly, assaulting my eardrums.

Normally, those unreasonable neighbors would have started shouting, but today it was strangely quiet.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I walked out of the bedroom in anger and stood in front of the door. I forcefully pushed it open, and the motion-sensor light in the corridor also turned on,

a cardboard box quietly placed at the doorstep. There was red liquid seeping around the box, emitting a fishy and foul smell, and it had turned black in color.

"Who is it?!"

No one answered.

The lid of the cardboard box, which had been tightly closed, loosened and revealed a gap, showing a note inside. I pulled it out and read the words written on it.

"Help me with makeup. I sent you my head."