The origins of support groups like the one Jenkins was attending were impossible to trace. In the modern era, however, they were often used by psychologists as a form of rehabilitation therapy. The group organized by Mr. Scotter served a similar function; after all, the only thing one could gain from talking was a sliver of psychological comfort.
Everyone took turns sharing their experiences, and the organizer himself was naturally the first to speak.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, I shall begin. Of course, to prevent anyone from identifying the people in my story, I will be using pseudonyms. I hope you all understand."
The moon was hidden behind a veil of clouds, and inside the curtained theater, only a few scattered candles cast their lonely light. Each person had placed their candle beside their chair, while Mr. Scotter's oil lamp sat in the center of the circle.
The scene was rather unsettling, yet it contained no supernatural elements. As Jenkins listened to the paranormal incident Mr. Scotter had encountered six months ago, he absently stroked the cat resting on his lap.
This simple act cast him in a chilling light. He had forgotten that Chocolate was currently invisible, so to everyone else, it looked as if Jenkins was stroking nothing but the air above his knees.
Fortunately, the people here had, to varying degrees, experienced far more terrifying things, so no one had screamed out in fear just yet. But at least half of the participants already regretted attending such a bizarre gathering on a night and had resolved to never have anything to do with it again.
Just as Jenkins suspected, the spirits were ordinary spirits, and the ghost stories were ordinary ghost stories. Throughout the telling, Jenkins kept his eye on the young magician from the circus. Unlike the writer who was just killing time, the magician seemed to be genuinely listening to every story, his gaze never once lingering on the nearby mirror.
This made Jenkins wonder what his true purpose was.
"Time to tell another ghost story," he thought.
He organized his words before speaking.
"Yes, it's my turn. Gentlemen, ladies, I can't guarantee that everything I'm about to say is true. Even I can't be sure how much of what happened that night was just a mad fantasy."
Such a disclaimer was essential. The words of the previous two speakers had been laced with a hysterical terror, and some of their descriptions were simply too incredible to be believed.
"When I was thirteen, gentlemen—you know what that age is like—my father gave me a cat as a birthday present. I was ecstatic. That cat stayed by my side until it passed away last autumn."
He paused, not for dramatic effect, but because he felt a sudden chill. He regretted not wearing warmer clothes; the drop in temperature tonight had been unexpected.
"Yes, last autumn..."
He once again opened that other vision of his, scanning the vicinity for anything unusual, but the only things emitting an aura were still the mirror and the young magician sitting beside it.
The magician wasn't carrying any special items, though his pockets likely held a few small props. To Jenkins's eyes, it looked as if his clothes were dusted with fluorescent powder.
"After that, I was heartbroken for a long time. I would occasionally think it was still alive in the house. I was truly down in the dumps for a while, but I later realized I couldn't go on like that, so I went to the city pet management center and adopted a new cat."
Paired with Jenkins's earlier motion of stroking an invisible cat, this part of the story sent shivers down everyone's spines. It was then that Jenkins finally noticed people staring at his lap and suddenly realized Chocolate was currently unobservable.
He smoothly raised the hand that had been petting the cat and ran it through his straw-colored hair before letting it fall to his side.
"So, I brought a new cat home. For the first few months, everything was normal. Yes, I gradually emerged from my grief and came to terms with the fact that the pet who had been with me for so long was gone forever. The new cat was a bit unruly, but I was confident I could train it.
But gradually, things started to feel... wrong."
Jenkins finally saw it. He finally saw an aura that belonged neither to the Enchanter nor the mirror! The stage was incredibly dim, making any light stand out. As his eyes subconsciously glanced at the previous speaker—the woman who was still twitching intermittently—an extremely faint aura slowly drifted from her body.
The color was so faint it was nearly imperceptible, almost blending in with the surroundings. There was nothing wrong with the woman herself, but after leaving her body, the aura seemed to be heading toward the decorative lamp directly above them. The trajectory of the light was fixed, which meant something was definitely amiss.
He didn't risk looking up; the movement would be too obvious. Instead, he continued his story.
"I had a cat for ten years, so I'm very familiar with their habits. The new one I adopted gradually became gentle and obedient under my training. But it happened too quickly. By the second week after it first entered my home, its docility could rival that of my deceased Laruelle. It wasn't just its obedience; apart from its appearance, the entire cat acted exactly like the old Laruelle."
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"One night, I woke up from a nightmare and was shocked to find the new cat lying on the second-to-last floorboard in the corner, the one that's a bit warped. Oh, God, I was terrified!"
His voice was a little too loud, startling several people. At the same time, Jenkins noticed that, in fact, everyone except for him and the young magician was emitting a yellow aura that floated toward the decorative lamp. As time went on, the frequency of the emissions increased.
"Are they... collecting horror stories? No, it's more likely they're collecting the emotion of fear!"
He feigned a casual turn of his neck but still didn't look up.
"It absolutely shouldn't have been sleeping on that floorboard. Only my Laruelle had that habit. You see, when the heating is on in winter, that spot is the warmest, which is why Laruelle did it. But I adopted the new cat in late summer. There's no way it could have coincidentally slept there! It's absolutely impossible!"