Chapter 220
She had never felt anything like it, but now, a cold dread enveloped her, making her feel as if she could die at any second.
She raced back to the cockpit, hoping at least someone would be there, praying that Lindsay and Yves had returned. But they were still gone. On a ship teeming with danger, they had vanished.
Seeing Cheryl run in with a terrified expression, Jessica asked with concern, “Did something happen?”
Cheryl was still in shock. She clutched her chest, swallowing hard, and took a long moment to steady herself before recounting what she had just witnessed.
“The man who pointed a gun at Lindsay… he’s dead. He died horribly, bleeding from his eyes, his ears, his mouth
And strangely, even though Logan had just died, she hadn’t seen his spirit.
“Oh. Well, he deserved it. He was a bully,” Jessica said with chilling calmness. She showed no fear, only a hint of satisfaction.
But she was on this ship too. People were dying one by one. Shouldn’t she be panicking? Why was she so composed?
Cheryl couldn’t help but think of what Arthur had said. Could the deaths on the ship really be Jessica’s doing?
Right now, she desperately wanted to see a ghost, to find out what was truly happening on this vessel. And where were Yves and Lindsay? Had something happened to them?
Cheryl composed herself and changed the subject. “I looked all over the ship, but I couldn’t find Lindsay or Yves. Do you know where they went?”
Jessica’s large, expressive eyes stared straight at Cheryl. “They’ll be fine,” she said. “Does that put your mind at ease?”
Cheryl’s heart clenched, her breathing quickening. Their disappearance was connected to Jessica. Why else would she say something like that? A cold shiver ran down her spine, and goosebumps rose on her skin. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs
Suddenly, Cheryl felt like she was trapped in a horror film, the helpless protagonist on the verge of a breakdown, while the mastermind—Jessica—watched from the outside, enjoying the show.
Without another word, Cheryl turned and left, her steps unsteady, her body trembling as if she might collapse at any moment. The ship was a death trap, and she had nowhere to go. She ended upon the deck, by the gangway, her only wish to get to shore as soon as possible.
To her astonishment, she saw him there: Logan’s spirit. The moment their eyes met,
he knew she could see him.
“You can see me! Thank god, you have to help me,” he pleaded.
It took Cheryl a long moment to recover. She steadied herself and asked, “What
happened? Why did you suddenly die like that?”
Logan told her everything. He said Jessica was the one who killed him. She had loved him away and used some kind of dark art to make him drink an unknown liquid. When he returned to the suite, he went mad, which was what had terrified the other men. By the time Cheryl arrived, the madness had passed, and the dying process was exactly as she had seen it-bleeding from every orifice.
“If you can see me, you must be special. You have to get revenge for me. Don’t let that bitch live!” Logan said, his voice filled with the rage of a vengeful spirit, though he was powerless to do anything himself.
Cheryl looked at him with pity. She felt for him, but she wasn’t heroic enough to be
his avenger. She turned to leave, but Logan’s voice stopped her.
“Don’t you want to know where she’s hidden your friends?”