The news brought by Mole was fragmented and vague, like the mysterious tiles found in a ghost market. To the east of the city lies an abandoned estate of the former Qi King, known as the "Hundred Ghosts Garden." It has been overgrown with weeds for years, long devoid of human presence, but recently, "night owls" have been spotted there, moving stealthily. Coupled with the dark pattern resembling withered vines that I had seen on the corner of a shadow I sketched—something I recognized from old palace archives, a motif that could also be used in royal decorations—we set our sights on that location.
A single ink blot might be mere coincidence. However, when those ink blots formed a line pointing to the same eerie place, fear transformed into an irresistible urge to verify it. I never imagined I would possess such "courage"; perhaps it was simply desperation, the instinct to survive overwhelming everything else.
As night fell, Chang'an City was shrouded in an eerie silence. Mole and I moved like true shadows, evading patrolling guards and watchmen, silently approaching the Hundred Ghosts Garden. The tall walls were already crumbling, and the pale moonlight illuminated the broken remnants, casting monstrous shadows. The air was thick with the scent of decaying vegetation and ancient dust, chilling to the bone.
Mole gestured for me to follow. He moved as lightly as a raccoon, making almost no sound at all, always finding the perfect shadows and cover. I trailed behind him, my heart racing in my chest, palms slick with cold sweat. I instinctively rubbed my fingertips together—there still lingered a gritty texture reminiscent of charcoal and deeper memories of ink stains that could not be washed away.
The former Qi King's estate was even larger and more desolate than I had imagined. Most of the pavilions and towers had collapsed, leaving only vague outlines. The dead trees twisted grotesquely in the night wind, emitting eerie sounds that resembled wails. We tread carefully through knee-high weeds, each step taken with caution lest we disturb something hidden.
I halted beneath a half-collapsed corridor. In the dim moonlight, I noticed some faint carvings on the pillars. They were not ordinary floral or bird motifs; their lines were twisted and bizarre, exuding an aura of malevolence... My heart raced! These carvings bore an uncanny resemblance to those on the "Strange Beasts" painting I had restored! Though weathered by time, my artist's eye would not be mistaken!
"Look," I whispered, pointing it out to Mole.
Mole leaned closer; his dark face was hard to read in the moonlight, but his sharp eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the carvings. He said nothing but nodded slightly, indicating we should delve deeper.
There was indeed something amiss here. My fingers involuntarily mimicked those strange lines in the air as a mix of fear and morbid curiosity blossomed within me.
At that moment, faint footsteps and hushed voices drifted from behind a nearby rock formation.
It was a shadow!
Mole reacted swiftly, pulling me behind a dense thicket and signaling for silence. We held our breath, afraid to make a sound.
Two dark figures emerged from behind the rock formation; they were dressed similarly to those I had sketched before, moving with a trained vigilance. They spoke in low tones; their words were too distant to decipher, but their chilling presence seemed to pierce through the night air towards us. I could even feel the ink stain on my sleeve growing cold again as if responding to their kindred approach.
Fortunately, those two shadows appeared to be merely on routine patrol and did not notice us as they soon moved away in another direction.
Only after their footsteps faded completely did Mole release me and signal for us to continue forward. My back was already soaked with sweat.
We crossed a lotus pond that had long since dried up, now just mud and dead branches. Ahead stood a relatively intact hall; although its roof had caved in significantly and its walls were riddled with cracks, traces of its former grandeur could still be discerned. A stronger mixture of blood and some chemical-like stench wafted from the hall's broken doors and windows.
"Be careful," Mole said tersely as he drew an ancient-looking short blade from his waist. The blade glimmered coldly under the moonlight.
We approached the half-collapsed hall stealthily like thieves. The closer we got, the more pungent that strange odor became, mixed with a low hissing sound that seemed to emanate from deep within someone's chest.
Peering through a large crack in one wall, we caught sight inside.
The hall was vast yet dilapidated; cobwebs filled every corner while shattered bricks and wood lay scattered across the floor. Moonlight streamed through holes in the roof illuminating a scene at the center of the hall—
My pupils constricted sharply; I nearly cried out but was swiftly silenced by Mole's quick hand over my mouth.
In the center stood a massive remaining pillar entwined with chains as thick as an arm. At the other end of those chains was... something.
That thing barely resembled a human form; its body was grotesquely twisted and deformed. Its skin exhibited an abnormal oily black hue covered in gnarled protrusions resembling veins that pulsed slightly. Its limbs were unnaturally thick; bone spurs had even grown at its joints while long black nails dug deep into the ground. Its head hung low obscuring its features; all we could hear was a disjointed hissing sound filled with pain and rage emanating from its throat.
It was a living puppet!
But this living puppet was even more terrifying and more… uncontrollable than the one I had seen last time in that secret mansion! The dark patterns on its body seemed to flow like a living creature, exuding a nauseating stench. It was bound by iron chains, yet it still struggled and writhed madly, each movement causing the chains to rattle loudly, taut as if they could snap at any moment. The ground around it was marked with deep claw marks and… dark red stains.
This was the monster they had created! My stomach churned, fear coiling around me like vines, leaving my limbs cold and paralyzed. The icy sensation from the ink stain on my sleeve felt as intense as a branding iron at that moment!
“Hah—!”
As if sensing our presence, the living puppet suddenly raised its head!
In the moonlight, I saw its face—or what used to be its face. Its features were completely twisted together; its eyes were two hollow black voids, and its mouth stretched grotesquely to its ears, revealing uneven, ink-stained teeth, drool mixed with black slime dripping down.
It let out a deafening roar in our direction!
This was bad!
“Run!” Mole hissed, pulling me to turn and flee.
“Clang!!” A loud sound of breaking chains echoed behind us!
The monster had broken free!
I didn’t dare look back; I could only follow Mole as we ran for our lives. Heavy and rapid footsteps followed us, along with the sound of obstacles being smashed. The creature’s speed and strength were beyond imagination!
We dashed through the ruins of the abandoned garden, shadows in the moonlight becoming our only cover. The puppet's roars echoed closely behind us. I could smell that foul odor and even feel the hot breath of death blowing against the back of my neck!
“This way!” Mole suddenly shoved me into a cave formed by a rock formation while he agilely rolled behind a massive broken stone tablet.
The giant shadow of the puppet rushed to the cave entrance; it hesitated for a moment, its hollow eye sockets scanning the surroundings.
In that instant, Mole moved!
He burst out from behind the stone tablet like a swift cheetah, his short blade slicing through the air in a cold arc, accurately striking at the knee joint of one of the puppet’s supporting legs!
“Crack!” A sound that made my teeth ache rang out.
The puppet let out an even more anguished roar, its massive body swaying violently before crashing heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. It flailed its arms wildly, trying to get back up, but that severely injured leg was clearly incapacitated for now.
Mole didn’t hesitate for even a moment; he didn’t spare another glance at the puppet but shouted at me from inside the cave: “Hurry!”
I scrambled out of the cave and followed Mole as we ran again. This time, we encountered no obstacles and burst through the walls of the Hundred Ghosts Garden, disappearing into the labyrinthine alleys of Chang'an.
We ran far until we were certain there were no pursuers behind us before stopping in a secluded corner to lean against a wall and gasp for breath.
I trembled all over—not from exhaustion but from the close brush with death just moments ago, from that terrifying form of the living puppet, and from Mole’s coldly ruthless precision when he struck.
"Then... that thing..." I gasped, my voice hoarse. "It seems you... know how to deal with it?"
Mole leaned against the wall, his dark face obscured in the shadows. He didn’t answer right away, only stared at me with those sharp eyes. After a moment, he finally squeezed out two words through clenched teeth:
"Trouble."
Was he referring to the living puppet or the mess I had gotten myself into? I didn’t know.
But I understood that things were far worse than I had imagined. The Ink Puppet Sect was not just causing trouble in some hidden mansion; they had even set up this terrifying experimental ground in the infamous Hundred Ghosts Garden. Beneath the bustling facade of Chang'an City, how many more such nests were hidden? How many innocent people were being transformed into those... monsters?
The fear still weighed heavily on me, but deep within, something began to change quietly.
"I saw it..." I murmured to myself, my voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a conviction I hadn’t realized I possessed. "I can’t pretend I didn’t see it."
The ink stain on my sleeve remained cold. But this time, it brought not just fear, but a lingering sense of... heaviness that wouldn’t go away.
Comment 0 Comment Count