Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The graduate student felt as if he were trapped in a cloud of cotton. To be precise, this sensation had persisted for nearly two hours.
Two hours ago, he had awakened from unconsciousness, not to the chill of fear, but to a comforting warmth, as if he were submerged in lukewarm water. His mind was engulfed in chaos; the darkness before him was endless, and the faint popping sounds of bubbles bursting filled his ears. It seemed that most of his senses had ceased to function, leaving only his brain to receive an inexplicable sense of comfort.
After waiting quietly for a long time, the graduate student gradually realized something was amiss. He finally became aware that it wasn't the absence of light that troubled him; rather, he hadn't opened his eyes at all. He had thought that the strange sensation he experienced earlier was merely a dream during his unconscious state, but now he could still feel the comfort surrounding him, which left him deeply confused. He recalled sleep paralysis, commonly known as "being pressed by a ghost," which bore a striking resemblance to his current situation. His mind was awake, yet his body could not move; his eyelids wouldn't open, he couldn't make a sound, and he couldn't even discern whether he was still trapped in a dream.
Time passed without any change.
The graduate student forced himself to calm down. In reality, the tension he felt was something he had deliberately created because his mind was filled with comfort—a nearly irresistible temptation that seemed to guide him into a state of relaxation and further sleep. Instinctively, he clung to the last thread of awareness and tried not to succumb to the warmth and ease conjured by his imagination. Following the threads of memory, he slowly began to rewind time in his mind.
He remembered what had happened before this strange sensation took hold.
Song Jiu had arranged for him and Yuan An to set out in search of a vehicle. The two drove along the dark National Highway for quite some distance. The journey was silent; distant mountains loomed silently, and the valleys were deep and secluded with winding roads full of sharp turns. Compared to the congested tunnels they had encountered earlier, this road felt unusually clean—almost too clean.
After driving over ten kilometers without finding anything, Yuan An suggested turning back because Song Jiu had advised them not to stray too far; this vehicle was their team's only means of transportation at the moment, and gasoline was precious—there was no need to waste it on unnecessary trips back and forth.
The graduate student agreed.
As they retraced their route and were about to return to their team's encampment, Yuan An noticed something strange in the rearview mirror.
Yuan An said she wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, but it seemed like there were flickering lights beyond the guardrail.
The graduate student was somewhat surprised; he had been driving and hadn't noticed anything unusual on their way out, so he hadn't paid close attention on their return. Yuan An usually didn't speak much but was very observant; since she claimed to have seen something, there must indeed be something there.
They were close to their main group now; it would be wise not to miss any potential discoveries.
Thus, the graduate student turned the cabin around and slowly drove back toward the section marked as prone to accidents, following Yuan An's directions through the series of curves.
The graduate student instructed Yuan An to wait in the car while he cautiously approached the isolation fence that Yuan An had mentioned, gun in hand. Beyond the fence lay a bottomless chasm. Squinting, he scanned the area but found no sign of the lights Yuan An had described. However, his anxiety grew as he noticed clear shoe prints on the narrow patch of ground outside the fence. The graduate student knew that Yuan An was not mistaken; could it be that the fake woman they had captured, along with her accomplices, was nearby? He hurried back to the car, just as he caught a glimpse of a shadow flickering by the fence out of the corner of his eye.
Startled, he quickly turned to look, but the figure was much quicker than him. In an instant, it lunged at him, delivering a heavy punch that knocked him to the ground, causing him to tumble toward the cabin. At that moment of impact, he saw Yuan An seemingly preparing to get out and help, but several figures suddenly jumped out from behind the fence, rushing straight for the car without uttering a word.
Everything happened in an instant, as if these mysterious figures had been waiting for them. His head spun from the blow, and a sense of danger urged him to leave immediately. Struggling to get up, he shouted for Yuan An to lock the windows and drive away while reaching for his fallen gun.
Yuan An must have heard his cries; the car windows locked with a beep, and the vehicle trembled slightly as she seemed to quickly move toward the driver's seat.
But it was too late. The graduate student heard the sound of shattering glass and Yuan An's abrupt scream.
He managed to grasp his gun and leaned against the cabin to stand up. Before he could raise it, a gust of wind rushed at him, followed by a chilling sensation in his lower abdomen as a sharp knife easily pierced through his outer clothing and into his flesh. In that moment, he surprisingly felt no pain; he wanted desperately to fire his weapon but was yanked by his hair and slammed against the car window, enduring blow after blow without any ability to fight back.
The sudden attackers had not spoken a single word throughout; with just a few heavy strikes, they incapacitated him completely.
His memory cut off at that point.
The graduate student’s breathing became rapid. The overwhelming sense of comfort that filled his body now felt eerily strange. He distinctly remembered being attacked alongside Yuan An—so what was happening now? Why did he feel no pain? Why hadn’t that knife taken his life? Where was Yuan An? Where was he?
For the next two hours, he struggled between panic and confusion amidst an unsettling sense of ease until a beam of bright white light pierced through his eyelids, finally halting his mind's relentless turmoil.
Before him was light—blindingly bright. He felt an odd sensation reminiscent of when he used to sleep in his dorm room and his mischievous roommate would shine a flashlight on his eyelids; it was a light that couldn’t be seen yet could still be perceived.
Crack!
Along with the sound of bubbles bursting came another noise.
Then, he felt wind—a gentle coolness washing over him—as if someone had pulled back the covers on a winter night.
A faint chill gradually seeped into his bones, and the comforting sensation that filled his body began to fade bit by bit. His senses, once closed off, seemed to return to their respective posts.
The graduate student felt a mix of excitement and fear. He sensed that he could control his eyelids and tentatively blinked. He felt something, but it was difficult to open his eyes because the light was blinding.
“Remove it.”
Suddenly, a man's voice appeared beside him.
The graduate student jolted in surprise. What was being removed?
As soon as the man's voice faded, the graduate student felt something being drawn from within him. Yes, it was that warm sensation; warmth was slowly and resolutely concentrating in his abdomen, then moving upward as if traveling through his esophagus. A violent wave of nausea surged in his throat, and he couldn't help but vomit. Liquid burst from his mouth, wetting his face and trickling down his skin.
Oh my God.
The graduate student realized with horror that there had been a tube inserted into his mouth all along.
There was no time for further thought. Just as this idea crossed his mind, intense pain and itching surged through his body like a tide, instantly reviving his dazed brain. His heavy eyelids seemed to lose their resistance, and he involuntarily opened his eyes wide.
As he opened them, the sudden brightness caused a brief moment of blindness. After a moment, the white light dissipated, revealing a pair of eyes in his line of sight.
The pain and itching gnawed at the graduate student's nerves, making it hard for him to think clearly. The scene he captured with his eyes only deepened his panic.
He could only see those eyes; the rest of the person's features were hidden beneath a doctor's cap and mask. The eyes held no emotion, fixed on him with deep crow's feet clearly visible at the corners, conveying an inscrutable meaning that the graduate student couldn't comprehend.
He wanted to ask a question but was stunned to find that he couldn't produce any sound at all; he couldn't even feel the presence of his tongue.
Pain, soreness, and itching took turns stimulating him, leaving him in a state of indescribable sluggishness.
A few minutes later, the owner of those eyes shifted their gaze to his face. The graduate student felt a flicker of discontent in the other person's eyes.
However, no one answered his question. The person merely glanced at him before turning to leave.
The sound of a door closing echoed in his ears, and then silence enveloped the surroundings, with only a warm yet blinding incandescent light above him illuminating the space. The graduate student turned his eyes, trying to observe his surroundings to distract himself from the intense pain coursing through his body and to figure out where he was.
Everywhere he looked was pure white. Beyond the dazzling light, he could see a pristine ceiling, but he couldn't see anything else because he couldn't turn his neck. After struggling for a while, he began to sense something beyond the pain; for instance, he realized that his head was fixed in place. Each time he strained to turn his neck, he felt a slight pressure on both sides of his forehead.
Fear and pain intertwined, confusion and doubt quickly took hold. The graduate student was stunned to discover something: why was the pain in his body so intense, yet he couldn't make a sound? He desperately wanted to cry out, even if it was just a hoarse whisper, but all his efforts were in vain.
He gave up struggling. Any suspicion or fear seemed meaningless in this situation. He recalled some things that Song Yao had mentioned before. Connecting it with the person dressed as a doctor, the graduate student vaguely realized what that doctor had done to him.
Gradually, the intense pain began to ease; perhaps his body was starting to adapt or some effects were wearing off.
After an unknown amount of time, the dead silence of the room was broken once more by the sound of opening and closing. Footsteps approached, and the doctor-like figure reappeared, holding a square tray that he placed beside the graduate student's head.
The graduate student stared at him intently, hoping he would understand the meaning in his eyes, even if it was just a single word spoken.
The doctor did not look at him but instead picked up an unremarkable syringe from the tray. The syringe contained a small amount of clear liquid that resembled water. Then the doctor leaned down, and by the time he stood back up, the liquid in the syringe was gone.
Indeed, he injected me with something. The graduate student clenched his jaw tightly, even though he could hardly feel his muscles working.
After administering the drug, the doctor did not leave as before but turned to stare at the graduate student. His eyes showed no emotional fluctuation; they were cold and lifeless, as if gazing at a stone.
What does he want? The graduate student thought as he strained to move his eyes and silently questioned what had been done to him.
After a long pause, the doctor raised an eyebrow and spoke: "How do you feel?" His voice suggested that he was an older man.
Feeling frustrated, the graduate student furrowed his brow and glared at him.
"Tell me, speak," the doctor said, bending down. His gloved fingers flipped the graduate student's eyelids, and he glanced at the body below before continuing, "Speak, make a sound."
The graduate student was puzzled. Did he not realize that I can't speak right now? Just then, he felt a dryness in his throat, a sensation of phlegm stuck there, unable to cough out or swallow. A thought crossed his mind: could it be that the medication injected earlier has awakened my vocal cords?
With this doubt in mind, the graduate student made another effort to speak. After straining for a while, he finally managed to produce some sound.
Although he still couldn't speak normally, he could at least emit a hoarse and low voice.
The doctor nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. He continued to encourage him to talk and gently guided him on how to overcome the dryness in his throat, teaching him to adjust the cartilage and muscles of his larynx. He even guided his breathing, resembling a rehabilitation doctor assisting a patient who had lost their voice.
After many attempts, the graduate student was astonished to discover that he could indeed speak—albeit not fluently—like a child learning to talk, only able to produce vague syllables.
"Does it hurt?" the doctor asked.
The graduate student carefully assessed and mumbled, "No."
"Itch?"
"No."
"..."
For the next few minutes, the doctor kept asking about various sensory experiences—pain, soreness, numbness, itchiness—and after receiving negative responses, he seemed somewhat puzzled. He nodded and furrowed his brow as if lost in thought.
The graduate student felt as if he had fallen into a trap. Why should I cooperate with him? Suddenly alarmed, he raised his voice and asked, "Who are you? Where am I? What have you done to me? Where are my companions?"
Faced with the barrage of questions from the graduate student, the doctor merely nodded thoughtfully. After a long silence, he suddenly asked, "Would you like to see?"
"Ah," the graduate student was taken aback, his sluggish mind failing to process the question.
The doctor did not wait for a response. He pulled his hands out of the pockets of his white coat and moved above the graduate student's head. He twisted something at the sides of his ears, and then the graduate student felt as if his head was being slowly pushed upward. His gaze shifted from the overhead light to the stark white wall opposite him, and then continued to rise.
In that moment, a strange thought flashed through the graduate student's mind: if a person lies flat and only their head is moved, can they see their body from such a high vantage point?
His question was answered in the next instant.
All the doubts that filled his mind suddenly vanished, replaced by an overwhelming terror and shudder that could tear apart his very soul.
He had thought he was fixed to an Experiment Table or a hospital bed; however, as his gaze descended, he saw only a drawer-sized Square Glass Container. Inside it swirled a somewhat murky liquid, with a test tube about the thickness of a finger submerged within. A slender catheter extended from one end of the test tube upward.
The surface of the Murky Liquid rippled, reflecting a solitary Skull on the Water Surface.
Comment 0 Comment Count