"Forget it, forget it. I shouldn't overthink this. Stop scaring myself," he muttered. He gulped, struggling to suppress the rising panic in his chest, and walked over to turn off the faucet.
But as soon as he approached the bathroom and pushed the door open, the bone-chilling cold became even more overwhelming. In the dim light, he noticed that the water flowing into the sink wasn't transparent—it seemed to have a brownish tint.
A bizarre sense of dread spread through him, but he still subconsciously tried to comfort himself. "It's an illusion! It's all an illusion! How could this be real? I need to believe in science."
However, a foul, metallic stench wafted up from the running water and invaded his nostrils, triggering a memory. He had heard that the old lady died in this very bathroom, having slipped and fallen while using the toilet. With no one to help her, and her son never coming to visit, she had died right here.
