The Haunted Island

The Frost Ghost

Soon, it was midnight.

The night was gloomy and the air was cold. No, it was not just cold, it was extremely cold, as if the place he was lying on was not a bed at all, but a deep ice cave.

No matter how hard he curled up like an autumn bug, it was of no avail. His whole body, especially his feet, were so cold that he almost lost consciousness.

But the most terrible thing was that in the sleepy state, the remaining breath of reason told him directly that this was not an ordinary cold, but with an extremely ominous air of decay. It was as if coming from the deep underworld, so gloomy that it was impossible for it to have the slightest breath of the human world.

"Ah!" Garvin suddenly woke up from his dark dream and sat up in the bed. A Dream! It was just a cold dream.

Garvin tried to calm himself down, but looking down the bed, he saw the frosty ghost. It wasn't a dream, but a real ghost.

After going through a series of twists and turns in his brain, Garvin finally figured out the situ