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墨書 Inktalez
The Cold Blade hovered just above the Dark Green Qipao, mere inches away.
My fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
It wasn't the usual pre-autopsy nerves; it stemmed from a fear that felt as if it could freeze my very soul.
That almost imperceptible Bitter Almond Flavor had grown intense, enveloping and drowning me like a rising tide.
It was no longer just a strange scent in the air; it had transformed into tangible tendrils, tightening around my throat and dragging me violently toward the deepest recesses of my memory—the Dark Vortex.
Boom—
The pitch-black, damp rainy night from twenty years ago instantly engulfed everything before me.
The Shadowless Lamp in the Forensic Autopsy Room vanished, replaced by an overwhelming, suffocating darkness.
A rough Fabric, carrying the scent of earth and mold, was forcefully pressed over my eyes.
Immediately after, I was shoved into a cramped, confined space like a piece of cargo.
The cold metal pressed against my cheek—likely the trunk of a car.
And that sickly sweet Bitter Almond Flavor spread throughout this darkness, infiltrating every corner.
"Don't make a sound, little girl."
A low, hoarse voice, like sandpaper scraping against metal, echoed in my ear.
The voice carried an eerie calmness but was laced with a chilling threat.
I froze in terror, nearly stopping my breath altogether.
My small body curled up tightly, too afraid to move an inch.
Fear pierced through me like countless tiny needles.
"Let go of my daughter! If you want money, I'll give it! Just let her go!"
It was my mother's voice!
Torn and filled with despair, her cries pierced through the car's partition, striking my heart heavily.
"Mom!"
I couldn't help but scream, desperately trying to struggle, but my hands and feet were tightly bound by something, rendering me immobile.
In that cramped space, all I could do was futilely twist and stifle my sobs.
"Ha..."
A cold, emotionless chuckle from the kidnapper reached my ears.
That laughter slithered like a snake's tongue, brushing against my eardrum and sending a chilling sensation through me.
Then I heard the sounds of a fierce struggle outside, as if someone was fighting and things were being knocked over.
My mother's increasingly desperate screams echoed, along with the heavy breathing and curses of a man.
I could imagine my mother fighting fiercely against those vicious kidnappers to protect me.
She was so frail; how could she possibly...
Tears streamed down my face, soaking the blindfolded fabric and bringing a cold dampness.
I wanted to shout, to tell my mother to run, but my throat felt blocked, only able to produce desperate gasps.
I didn't know how long it had been when the sounds outside gradually faded away.
Only the monotonous sound of raindrops tapping on the roof remained.
And that pervasive, inescapable bitter almond flavor lingered in the air.
Then, there was nothing but silence.
Endless darkness and fear.
Later on... I was thrown at my doorstep.
The ransom was paid, and the kidnappers vanished.
I returned.
But my mother... never came back.
That intense Bitter Almond Flavor became the nightmare that haunted me for twenty years.
It is the most profound and terrifying mark in my childhood memories.
"Ha... ha..."
I gasped, breaking free from the suffocating memories, cold sweat covering my forehead.
The scene before me refocused.
It was still the cold Forensic Autopsy Room, the harsh white light, and the corpse on the Autopsy Table dressed in a wedding gown and Qipao.
The Bitter Almond scent seemed to have faded slightly, yet it still stubbornly lingered at the tip of my nose.
Was it an illusion?
No.
I am a forensic pathologist; my sense of smell is professionally trained and cannot be mistaken.
This scent is real.
It exists not only at the kidnapping scene from twenty years ago but also... now.
It exists around this corpse!
A terrifying thought struck me like lightning, cleaving through my chaotic mind.
Cyanide!
The bitter almond flavor is a typical characteristic of cyanide!
Could it be... the kidnapper from twenty years ago used cyanide...
No! The police investigation at the time found no traces of cyanide!
But this smell...
I forced myself to calm down, my gaze returning to the corpse.
The memories that surged forth were overwhelming, nearly shattering my reason, but they also brought to light a detail that had been overlooked.
The kidnapper...
That hoarse-voiced man...
When he touched me, it seemed like... he was wearing gloves?
Yes, I remember that sensation, a roughness through a layer of something, but I could distinctly feel the shape of his knuckles.
Why wear gloves?
Was it to avoid leaving fingerprints?
I struggled to recall more clues, but my memories were like shattered glass—only a few blurry fragments remained, unable to piece together a complete picture.
The kidnapper's face? I couldn't see it, deliberately obscured.
His height? Build? He seemed... tall? But I wasn't sure.
Were there other accomplices? It felt like there were, but the memory was even more vague.
The only clear thing was that deep, hoarse voice and those hands, rough and gloved, with distinctly knuckled fingers.
And then… that omnipresent Bitter Almond Flavor.
This scent was like an invisible thread, tightly intertwining the Kidnapping Case from Twenty Years ago with the eerie female corpse before me.
It was no longer just a switch that triggered painful memories; it might… be the key to unraveling all the mysteries!
Was it some kind of mark left by the kidnapper?
Or was it… related to the cause of death of the victim?
Or, more terrifyingly, were the person who kidnapped me twenty years ago and the one who killed this woman and set up this bizarre scene the same individual or part of the same group?
That ring engraved with "701"…
The Nameless Male Corpse "701"…
The Qipao my Mother wore when she went missing…
My engagement ring…
And this deadly Bitter Almond Flavor…
All the clues formed a gigantic Spider Web, trapping me in its center.
And that Poisonous Spider weaving the web might be lurking in the darkness, coldly watching me.
My heart raced at this speculation.
If that were true, then everything from the very beginning might have been aimed at me!
For twenty years, had they never given up on anything? Or were they waiting for something?
And now, why did they choose to appear in this manner?
A warning? A provocation? Or perhaps... something else entirely?
I stared at the corpse on the Autopsy Table, taking in the Dark Green Qipao and the Platinum Ring.
A chilling sensation pierced through me.
No, I couldn't keep bearing this alone.
This matter was too strange, too dangerous.
I had to tell Lu Li.
He was a police officer, and he was my Lu Li.
Although the appearance of that ring had sparked a flicker of doubt in my mind about him, I needed his help.
Or rather, I needed to confirm whether he too was ensnared in this web.
Taking a deep breath, I finally steadied my trembling hand and gripped the cold scalpel tightly.
No matter how cruel the truth might be, no matter what I had to face.
I would peel it back layer by layer with my own hands.
Starting with this Qipao that belonged to Mother but was worn by a stranger.
The tip of the knife finally grazed the surface of the silk.
(End of chapter)
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