Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The sky had completely darkened by the time I dared to return to Zhou Jing's house after taking a long detour. I knocked three times on the door and waited for what felt like an eternity before hearing faint footsteps from inside.
"It's me," I said in a low voice.
The door opened just a crack, and Zhou Jing quickly pulled me inside. Her face was pale, and she held an old photo album in her hands.
"What happened?" I asked.
"First, look at this." She placed the album on the coffee table. "I found it while cleaning my brother's room."
The cover of the album was worn and faded, with the words "Changling Village Spring Festival Gala" written on it. I opened the first page to find a group photo of the entire village. The villagers stood in several rows, with a group of children at the front.
"Look here," Zhou Jing pointed to a figure in the corner of the photo.
It was a person wearing a bronze mask, standing at the edge of the crowd, barely visible. The pattern on the mask was identical to the sacrificial symbols I had seen at the village chief's house.
"Who is this person?" I asked.
"No one knows," Zhou Jing replied as she flipped to the next page. "But look at these photos; he appears in every group shot." Her finger moved to a row of children in one of the photos. "All these kids moved away in the next six months."
I scrutinized the faces of those children and suddenly noticed that one girl was wearing a bracelet on her wrist—exactly like the protective charms I had seen at Granny Li's house.
"Wait." I quickly flipped to the back and found a solo photo of that girl. Sure enough, her name was written beneath: Xiao Yu.
"This can't be—"
"Yes, it's the same girl you mentioned," Zhou Jing's voice trembled. "Look at this one."
She turned to the last page, revealing a damaged photograph. It depicted an underground space with numerous bronze masks hanging on the walls. In the center stood a massive stone platform surrounded by several masked figures holding torches that illuminated something on top of the platform.
Although the photo was blurry, I could still make out what appeared to be a child's corpse.
"Who took this photo?" I asked, my heart racing.
"My dad," Zhou Jing bit her lip. "He got into an accident the day after taking this picture."
My heart sank: "So you think he—"
"It wasn't an accident." She pulled out a note from an album pocket. "This is what he left me as his last message."
The note contained only a few words: "Basement, third mask."
"What does this mean?" I questioned.
"I don't know," Zhou Jing stood up and walked to the window. "But at the village chief's house, I saw that bronze mask hanging on his study wall."
I recalled the wall I had seen in the village chief's study. So you really want to tell us, Chief—
"Shh!" Zhou Jing suddenly gestured for silence. Voices could be heard outside, and it seemed someone was approaching.
We quickly turned off the lights and hid behind the curtains. Through a gap, I saw A Hu and a few others passing by. They were carrying a large wooden box, heading towards the village chief's house.
Zhou Jing's voice trembled as she spoke, reminiscent of when they carried my brother years ago.
I grasped her hand and felt her trembling all over. "Are you saying they've already captured a new sacrifice?"
"No," she shook her head. "That box is for ritual tools. This means they are about to capture someone."
A distant bell rang again, this time just once, but it was unusually clear. I glanced at my watch; it was nine o'clock at night. According to Zhou Jing, the blood sacrifice ritual usually took place at midnight.
"We have to stop them," I said.
But we didn't even know who the sacrifice was. Zhou Jing suddenly froze. "Wait..."
She quickly flipped through an album and pointed to a group photo from years ago. "Look, where is the masked person standing?"
I observed closely and noticed that person always stood near the children who were about to go missing. In the latest village group photo, the masked figure was standing next to Zhou Ming! Zhou Jing and I exclaimed his name in unison.
So they never took Zhou Ming; it dawned on me that they had hidden him somewhere, waiting for nightfall.
Before I could finish my thought, a piercing scream suddenly echoed outside. We rushed to the window and saw, under the moonlight, several figures wearing bronze masks dragging a struggling small figure towards the village chief's house.
It was A Xiu! Zhou Jing gasped; she was only eight years old!
I grabbed my coat. "Do you know how to get to the underground altar?"
"There's a secret entrance," she quickly put on her clothes, pointing towards the back of the ancestral hall.
"Then we'll split up. You go to the ancestral hall, and I'll head to the village chief's house."
Zhou Jing nodded but turned back before leaving, pulling a small box from the cabinet. "Be careful; this was left by my dad. He said it would be useful in critical moments."
I opened the box to find an ancient-looking bronze mask inside.
Comment 0 Comment Count