Five years later.
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting dappled shadows on the carpet of the nursery. Lin Xia gently rocked the cradle, gazing at her daughter Xiao He’s sleeping face. At the base of her ring finger was a light brown birthmark, shaped like a curled-up dry leaf. Ever since she gave birth to Xiao He three years ago, the mark had gradually become more pronounced with the child's growth, resembling some kind of mysterious seal.
"Meow—"
The Persian cat on the windowsill suddenly let out a heart-wrenching wail, its green eyes fixed intently on the crib. Just as Lin Xia was about to scold it, she saw the cat's fur standing on end before it leapt straight out of the second-floor window. A heavy thud echoed from below, startling her heart. When she rushed to the courtyard, the cat was already lifeless, blood streaming from its seven orifices and forming a bizarre symbol on the ground—identical to the Curse etched on the walls of the old house's basement.
That night, Xiao He developed a high fever.
"Mommy... The shadow is smiling..." The child's feverish little hand gripped Lin Xia's wrist tightly, her eyes fixed on the shadow in the corner of the room. "They said they want to take Hehe home..." Following her gaze, Lin Xia looked at the wall where the drapes seemed to undulate, actually outlining a human figure with a cruel and familiar smile—the very same smile she had seen in the mirror years ago.
Even more bizarrely, her husband Chen Mo began to exhibit strange behavior as well. Late at night, he would stare blankly at his phone screen, his photo album filled with pictures of the old house—photos she had personally deleted five years ago, now seemingly resurrected like a virus in his electronic devices. One early morning, Lin Xia heard rustling sounds coming from the study; when she pushed open the door, she found Chen Mo circling parts of a printed floor plan of the old house with a red pen, puncturing holes over the words "Basement."
"What are you doing?" Her voice trembled.
Chen Mo slowly turned his head, his eyes bloodshot behind his glasses. "Xia Xia, don’t you think Xiao He’s birthmark looks familiar? Just like that dead Sophora Tree at the entrance of the old house..." He suddenly broke into an odd smile. "Did you really think Light Stone eliminated everything? That Black Seed... has actually been planted in us long ago."
Cold sweat trickled down Lin Xia's back as she recalled that day when she left the old house; her grandfather had pressed something cold into her palm. At that time, she thought it was a shard of Light Stone but now realized that its texture was entirely different—it was a seed, one that carried a damp earthy scent.
Xiao He’s condition took a turn for the worse on the third night. The child curled up in a corner of her bed, scratching deep grooves into the wallpaper with her nails, revealing yellowed old newspapers underneath. Lin Xia tore down the wallpaper and discovered it was local news from 1945; in the front-page photo stood a group of people in black clothing in front of the old house, with one among them cradling a swaddled baby whose exposed skin bore a light brown leaf-shaped birthmark.
"Mommy, look!" Xiao He suddenly pointed at the top of the wardrobe. "There’s an older sister playing up there!"
The wardrobe door swung open with a bang, revealing a dried-up kitten hanging among children's clothes. What took her breath away was that beneath its body lay new carvings of Curse on the wooden board, and black liquid seeping from those carvings began to gather into Xiao He’s outline.
Lin Xia could no longer afford to feel fear; she grabbed her car keys and rushed to take her daughter to the hospital. But when she opened the garage door, she saw Chen Mo kneeling on the ground, carving something into the Cement Floor with a dagger. The moonlight illuminated his profile; his expression was terrifyingly devout while on the ground lay an exact replica of that year’s Basement Altar design.
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