"Wang Shao?!" Li Yifei and his two companions cried in unison at the familiar voice.
They traded a glance, then bolted for the alley where Wang Shao had vanished.
Lin Qiye alone remained, frowning into the murk, unease tightening his brow.
Though he could not say why, dread coiled in his gut: the old-town fringe, a crazed killer, a fetid stench, a woman's scream—something was terribly wrong.
He wavered, fought with himself, sighed, and finally, cane in hand, dashed after them.
Ordinarily, faced with such chaos, Lin Qiye would have fled the other way without a second thought—danger never bodes good news, and he had no wish to trifle with robbery, murder, or the scene of some grisly crime. Curiosity failed him, compassion did not oblige him to play hero, and he certainly could not fight; a single misstep might cost his life.
Yet tonight was different.
Had his classmates not insisted on escorting him, Wang Shao might have taken another route or left a few minutes earlier and missed all of this. Lin Qiye disliked meddling, but he despised owing favors more. He must at least see what had happened—then, if peril loomed, run.
Blindfolded though he was, his pace never faltered. The nearer he drew, the deeper his frown; the stench grew thicker, rancid.
"Aaaah!"
A second scream—a woman's—split the night.
Jiang Qian.
Lin Qiye stopped at the corner. Within his ten-metre mental field he sensed Jiang Qian collapsed on the ground, mouth agape, shaking.
Ahead of her, Liu Yuan and Li Yifei stood rigid as statues, staring at something beyond his reach. Outside that circle, he was truly blind.
What horror had they seen?
His hearing, razor-keen, caught a wet, savage crunching, as though something devoured its meal with feral relish—much like Little Black Toad gnawing bones.
"What happened?" he whispered.
Startled, Jiang Qian clutched his sleeve, teeth chattering. "A monster… it's eating Wang Shao's face!"
Lin Qiye's blood ran cold. "Run!"
He and Li Yifei shouted together.
Liu Yuan shot past like a crazed dog, bumping Lin Qiye, staggering, then scrambling away, shrieking, "Monster—help! Someone, help!"
The blow left Lin Qiye off balance; as he steadied himself, a thunderous pounding echoed—like a bear charging.
Jiang Qian's pupils shrank. Panic lent her strength; she leapt up and sprinted. Li Yifei had fled the instant "run" left his lips, even faster than Liu Yuan. That single collision kept Lin Qiye and Jiang Qian in the rear.
Terror stripped away memory of Lin Qiye's "disability"; the friends who vowed to see him home had abandoned him.
He had run only a few steps when something burst into his field: human, yet not. It galloped on all fours like a hyena, massive as a bear, and atop its shoulders glimmered a corpse-white, twisted mask. A crimson tongue, serpentine and half a metre long, writhed from its maw.
Lin Qiye's face blanched. The creature covered the distance in heartbeats; a gale roared at his back.
Jiang Qian sensed it too. Terror stiffened her as she began to turn—surely it was still far?
"Don't look back!" Lin Qiye barked.
Too late. The ghastly mask was inches away, its blood-reek washing over her.
"Ahhh!"
She swung her schoolbag wildly—no weapon for a girl untrained. The creature seized the strap, yanked; she toppled.
A heavy shadow fell.
An instant later, fresh blood stained the night a savage, glistening red.