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墨書 Inktalez
The sharp, piercing ring of the living room phone sliced through the silence like a rusty knife, gnawing at my frayed nerves and making it nearly impossible for me to breathe.
I sat rigidly on the sofa, my palms slick with sweat, my gaze locked onto the vibrating phone as if it were a ticking time bomb.
The sound seemed to emanate from the depths of hell, carrying a chilling aura that dragged me into an endless abyss.
Mechanically, I raised my hand and trembled as I picked up the receiver.
A busy signal blared in my ear, reminiscent of someone on the other end gasping for breath, or perhaps the low growl of some beast.
I recognized that sound. Five years ago, on a night when rain poured like a deluge, I had pressed him into the icy waters with my own hands. As he struggled for life, that same asthmatic wheeze escaped his throat—desperate and agonizing.
This sound haunted me like a nightmare, tormenting me day and night, pushing me to the brink of collapse.
My wife, Li Wei, walked over with a steaming cup of milk in her hands, her face adorned with a gentle smile.
I abruptly dropped the phone as if it were a venomous snake.
The milk splattered onto the floor, the milky liquid spreading out like a pool of congealed blood, shocking to behold.
She jumped back in surprise, nearly dropping the tray. "What’s wrong? You look terrible."
Her voice was filled with concern, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze.
I forced a smile that felt more painful than tears. "It's nothing; just had a bad dream."
This lie had become a mantra I repeated countless times until I was almost convinced myself.
For a week now, I had been plagued by insomnia and nightmares that replayed that rainy night over and over again.
Under the dim streetlight, the man's face twisted in the darkness as he reached out with bloodied hands, gripping my throat tightly and suffocating me.
Each time I awoke from those dreams, I was drenched in sweat, my heart racing as if that man were still right beside me, his ghost lingering.
Li Wei looked at me with concern in her eyes. "You've been acting really strange lately. What’s going on?"
Her gentleness felt like a knife, piercing my heart deeply.
I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say.
Should I tell her that I’ve killed someone? Should I confess that I am a murderer?
I couldn’t imagine how she would react if she knew the truth.
I could only continue to deflect with nightmares. "Don’t worry, it’s just stress. The recent projects at work have been really challenging."
She sighed and reached out to touch my face. Her hand was soft and warm, but it only made me feel more guilty.
"No matter what happens, I’ll be by your side."
Her words pierced through my facade of calm like a needle, leaving me feeling even more ashamed.
I couldn’t look her in the eyes, afraid she would see the hidden evil within me, the darkness deep in my soul.
I scheduled an appointment with Doctor Wang, hoping he could help me escape this pain and free me from the endless torment.
In Doctor Wang's office, I described my symptoms and the recent events, including those midnight harassing calls that sent chills down my spine.
Doctor Wang listened quietly, occasionally jotting down notes. His gaze was sharp and profound, as if he could see through all my disguises.
He adjusted his glasses. "Based on your description, you may be experiencing delusions and hallucinations, which could be caused by prolonged psychological stress."
His tone was calm and professional, yet it stirred a sense of unease within me.
He suggested some relaxation techniques such as deep breathing and meditation, along with medication to alleviate anxiety and help restore normal sleep patterns.
I felt as if I had grasped a lifeline; I would do anything to rid myself of these terrifying hallucinations.
I felt like a drowning person, desperately clinging to any chance of survival.
As I left the clinic, I felt a bit lighter; perhaps Doctor Wang was right. Maybe it was all just in my head, a manifestation of my mental state.
I began to believe that those calls, those voices, were merely figments of my imagination, a way for me to scare myself.
Just when I thought I could catch my breath, my phone rang again. That piercing sound shattered the fragile hope I had just built.
I trembled as I pressed the answer button, fear surging over me like a tidal wave, nearly drowning me.
On the other end of the line was a familiar voice, laced with mockery and threat. "Long time no see. You don't seem to be doing too well."
It was the voice of the man I had killed five years ago, clear and cold, like a call from hell.
My breath caught in my throat, my heart raced violently as if it were trying to leap out of my chest.
My body froze, my hands and feet turned icy; fear coiled around me like a venomous snake, rendering me immobile.
I felt my world collapsing, my sanity unraveling, and all my efforts slipping away.
I knew then that I could no longer escape.
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