The Haunting of the Abandoned Rice Mill

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the narrow, dirt road that led to the abandoned rice mill. The mill, once a bustling hub of activity, now stood as a silent sentinel, its dilapidated structure whispering tales of forgotten times. The hamlet of Liangshan, nestled in the lush Henan countryside, had long been whispered about in hushed tones. Locals spoke of the mill as a place of curses, a place where the dead roamed freely, and the living dared not venture near.

It was on a dare that a group of five friends—Ling, Wei, Xiao, Mei, and Dong—decided to explore the abandoned rice mill. They had heard the stories, but the thrill of the unknown was too great to resist. Armed with flashlights and a sense of adventure, they set out under the cover of darkness.

The mill was a labyrinth of rusted machinery and broken walls. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the silence was oppressive. As they ventured deeper, the temperature dropped, and the air grew colder. The flashlight beams danced across the walls, revealing layers of grime and dust that had accumulated over the years.

"Did you hear that?" Mei whispered, her voice trembling.

The others exchanged nervous glances. They had all heard the rumors, but none of them expected the place to be so eerie.

"Shh," Dong hissed, his eyes wide with fear. "Keep moving."

They reached the heart of the mill, where the old rice bins still stood. The bins were filled with a thick, dusty layer, and the air was thick with the scent of rice that had long since rotted. Ling, the bravest of the group, stepped forward, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness.

"Look at this," she said, pointing to a series of faded characters etched into the wooden bin. "It says 'Bai Lang Zhen,' which means 'Bai Lang's Curse.'"

The others gathered around, their eyes wide with shock. Bai Lang was a famous miller who had died mysteriously many years ago. The curse was said to have been so powerful that no one had dared to disturb the mill since.

"Let's get out of here," Wei said, his voice trembling. "This place is too creepy."

But it was too late. As they turned to leave, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The walls creaked and groaned, and the air grew colder. The flashlight beams flickered, and then went out, leaving them in complete darkness.

Mei screamed, and the others followed suit. They stumbled through the darkness, their hearts pounding in their chests. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the mill, and they could feel the presence of something watching them.

"Where are we?" Dong gasped, his voice barely audible.

"Over here," Ling replied, her voice trembling. "We need to find the exit."

But the exit seemed to be moving further away. The walls closed in around them, and the air grew colder. They could feel the spirits of the dead pressing against them, their eyes burning into their souls.

"Help us," Mei pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please, help us."

Suddenly, the ground beneath them gave way, and they fell into a deep, dark chasm. The air was thick with the scent of death, and the spirits of the dead surrounded them, their voices echoing in their ears.

"Welcome to the rice mill," a voice hissed. "You will never leave."

As the spirits closed in, the friends realized that they were trapped. The curse of Bai Lang was real, and they were its next victims. The darkness closed in around them, and the last thing they heard was the sound of their own screams.

The next morning, the bodies of the five friends were found at the bottom of the chasm. The mill remained standing, a silent witness to the tragedy that had unfolded within its walls. The hamlet of Liangshan was forever changed, and the story of the haunted rice mill became a cautionary tale for generations to come.