Short horror fiction

The sky darkened in a remote mountain village in Shanxi in the 1990s.

Today, the old man came home later than usual. It was 10 miles from the ground to his home. Because he was on the hill, the car couldn't get on, so he had to walk home by himself.

Nearly fifteen years later, the moon is still relatively bright, barely able to see the road;

Old men in the countryside meet women in antique clothes at night. When they go home, they have a high fever.

Wind, the old man shrank, the mountain night is still relatively cold, whine...

Suddenly, the old man heard a singing voice! My God? It's still a mountain ditch this big evening! uuuuuuuuuuu Where did you come from?

Babbling

The old man lit a cigarette. I've heard people say that when they meet this kind of thing, they will be all right regardless of strides.

After a while, there was really no voice. The old man was humiliated and burdened. Wipe the sweat off your head.

Oh, dear!

Gordon! The old man looked down at his voice.

A woman in a white antique dress sat on the ground crying with her back to herself.

The old man bravely went over and asked, Girl, what are you doing here so late?

The old man felt wrong and ran away! No head!

I only heard the voice of the wind, like the voice of that woman.

Soon he ran home. It was over nine o'clock. The old man went straight to bed without saying anything.