...
After the mistress's departure, the group gathered in the grand foyer. Brief introductions were made, and the conversation quickly turned to the task at hand: caring for the elderly woman.
Yan Youping, the petite girl with twin ponytails, hesitantly raised a small hand. "Um… how did everyone end up on that bus? I was on the high-speed train, playing on my phone, and I got sleepy… so I dozed off. Woke up on the bus."
"Same here," another chimed in. "I was pulling overtime at work, and suddenly felt exhausted…"
As others shared their stories, a chilling pattern emerged: they'd all fallen asleep unexpectedly and awakened on the bus. The sheer uniformity of their experiences deepened the existing dread.
"Fuck… this is seriously messed up," Liu Chengfeng cursed under his breath.
Yan Youping fell silent for a moment, then ventured timidly, "Do you think… maybe this is some kind of show? Like, a reality program that recruits people this way? I mean, on TV sometimes they…"
Liu Chengfeng cut her off with a cold snort. "Forgot the fat guy already? TV shows flay people alive and hang their skins up as props?"
Yan Youping flinched but retorted, "What if… what if it was just a prop? Special effects?"
"The blood too?"
"Who knows? Could've been pig's blood or chicken blood…" Yan Youping clung to her denial, but Ning Qiushui's calm interjection shattered her last defense.
"It wasn't animal blood."
All eyes turned to him. He seemed disturbingly composed, already accepting their grim reality.
"I was a vet. I'm sensitive to smells. Animal blood—cow, pig, sheep, chicken, duck, fish—has distinct odors humans don't. Sheep blood is pungent. Human blood has a sharp, metallic tang… like rust on wet iron."
He met their gazes steadily. "I can tell you with absolute certainty: the blood on that traffic light was human. Fresh human blood."
A violent shudder wracked Yan Youping. She curled into a tighter ball, hugging her knees as quiet sobs escaped her. "Stop… please stop…"
Seeing her distress, Ning Qiushui's tone softened slightly. He couldn't blame her. That horrific scene would scar any normal person. Only those accustomed to death and gore could process it without lasting trauma.
"We should focus on surviving the next five days," said Xue Guize, a man of average height and build, his eyes shadowed and unfriendly. "There are seven of us. The task is to care for the old woman for five days. How do we split the duties?"
Silence hung heavy. When no one else spoke, Ning Qiushui suggested, "How about this: the three women handle cooking and laundry. The four of us men will take care of the elderly woman."
Wang Yuning, the woman with the gold earrings, immediately scoffed. "Oh? So the womenfolk get stuck cooking and cleaning for you lazy men? How convenient!" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Heard the old hag's bedridden, so you jump at the 'chance' to 'care' for her? Think we're dumb or something? 'Caring' just means sitting around doing nothing!"
Liu Chengfeng's temper flared. He tilted his head back, sniffing the air theatrically. "Whew… reeks of shit over here. Pity, such a pretty face spewing filth."
Wang Yuning's face darkened. "Who the hell are you calling—"
Ning Qiushui cut Liu Chengfeng off before he could escalate. "If you don't want to cook or clean, Wang Yuning, I'll swap with you. You take care of the old woman. From 9 AM to 10 PM. After 10, it's dark, we'll all wash up and rest."
Wang Yuning glared at him, then sniffed disdainfully. "Well then… thank you." Her words held not an ounce of gratitude, only pure mockery. "Oh, and it's past five. I'm hungry. Since you're on kitchen duty now… get to it."
Ning Qiushui held her gaze for a long moment, then turned to the other two women. "Do either of you want to switch?"
The quiet girl, Yamo, raised her hand slightly. "I… I'm really sorry, but I honestly don't know how to cook."
Her apology sounded genuine, unlike Wang Yuning's venom. It wasn't uncommon; plenty of people, men and women, grew up never learning.
Ning Qiushui looked at the remaining three men. "Any guys here who can cook?"
A brief, awkward silence followed. Liu Chengfeng threw up his hands in exasperation. "Ah, screw it! I'll go with you, kid! Cook and wash clothes! Goddamn worthless sacks of meat, can't even boil water!" he bellowed, glaring at the others.
Wang Yuning sneered. "Lowlife! Watch your mouth!"
Liu Chengfeng jabbed a thick finger at her. "Only reason I don't rearrange your face is 'cause you're a woman! Count yourself lucky!" With a final huff, Wang Yuning turned on her heel, her stiletto heels clicking sharply on the marble floor as she marched upstairs.
The large villa quickly swallowed the group as they scattered to their tasks—kitchen on the first floor, the old woman on the second.
Liu Chengfeng continued his tirade all the way to the kitchen, trailed by the still-sniffling Yan Youping.
"Alright, enough," Ning Qiushui finally snapped, the constant grumbling grating on his nerves once they were inside.
"Enough?" Liu Chengfeng stared at him incredulously. "You just gonna take that crap from her?"
Ning Qiushui opened the massive refrigerator and began methodically pulling out ingredients. "Do you really think taking care of that old woman… is the easy job?"
Liu Chengfeng's next complaint died in his throat. His breath hitched. "Kid… what do you mean?"
Ning Qiushui slowly turned to face Liu Chengfeng and the wide-eyed Yan Youping. His expression was grave. "Remember what the suited man in the black villa told us?"
He paused, letting the memory sink in. "He said he'd answer our questions after we survived the Bloody Door and returned."
Ning Qiushui's voice dropped, low and serious. "That means… whatever dangers are waiting for us in this world… are beyond anything we can imagine."
Yan Youping jerked upright, her small frame trembling violently. "Wh-what… what kind of dangers?" she whispered, her voice trembling with renewed terror.
Ning Qiushui shook his head. "Not clear yet… But since the Bloody Door's task is to care for the old woman, the danger likely centers around her."
He met their eyes, his voice low. "Stay vigilant."
Liu Chengfeng's eyes darted, fingers subtly twitching as if calculating unseen figures. The earlier gloom vanished from his face, replaced by a wide, almost eager grin. "Kid, you make sense. I'm stickin' with you."
Ning Qiushui gave him a surprised glance but said nothing. He focused on the task, pulling vegetables from the fridge before turning to the freezer compartment. True to the mistress's word, it was packed with meat—neatly butchered and portioned into labeled vacuum-sealed bags.
Ning Qiushui grabbed a bag marked [Beef Tenderloin] and tossed it into a pot on low heat to thaw. As he closed the freezer door, something caught the corner of his eye. He reached deeper inside and pulled out a rock-hard piece of meat. The vacuum-sealed bag contained numerous dark, unidentifiable specks. Layers of frost obscured them, and the opaque bag made it impossible to discern what they were. This bag lacked any label, likely forgotten by the mistress.
Ning Qiushui studied the meat intently. Liu Chengfeng, ever curious, leaned in again. "Why's this meat black?" he asked.
Ning Qiushui shook his head, shoving the bag back into the freezer. "Don't know. Maybe it's freezer-burned. Gone bad."
The trio worked in the kitchen. To Ning Qiushui's surprise, Liu Chengfeng, despite his rough-and-tumble appearance, was an excellent cook. His movements—washing, chopping, stir-frying—were swift and practiced, the mark of a seasoned hand.
"Chow's on!" Liu Chengfeng bellowed, slamming plates of steaming meat and vegetables onto the table. He didn't wait for the others upstairs, grabbing a bowl of hot rice and wolfing it down.
Yan Youping watched his ravenous eating. "Aren't… aren't we waiting for them?" she asked timidly.
Liu Chengfeng didn't look up from his bowl. "Wait for what? Eat!"
He continued devouring his food.
Click-clack-click…
Four sets of footsteps descended. Wang Yuning, still on the stairs, took in Liu Chengfeng's voracious display. "Look at you," she sneered. "Wolfing down food like a starving ghost…"
Ordinarily, Liu Chengfeng would have snapped back. But while eating, he seemed hyper-focused, her barbs sliding off him like water off a duck's back. Mistaking his silence for submission, Wang Yuning shrugged and served herself.
Dinner passed in near silence. Conversation died before it could start. Gradually, the room darkened. Shadows lengthened, deepening until the slices of beef on their plates became indistinct blobs.
It was only when Ning Qiushui stood and flicked on the lights that they realized the truth: night had fallen.
"Shit!" Beidao, a nervous man, yelped. "How'd it get dark so fast? It's barely seven!"
His jumpiness grated on everyone's nerves.
Xue Guize, his expression already sour, scowled deeply. "What's your problem?" he snapped. "Didn't you hear the mistress before she left? The rainy season's coming! Early darkness is normal… Stop overreacting!" His tone was overly sharp, the tension getting to him. Everyone understood; no one commented. The villa's oppressive gloom was palpable.
Liu Chengfeng, finally sated, dropped his chopsticks and picked at his teeth. He fixed Wang Yuning across the table with a pointed look. "So… this is how you 'caregivers' work, huh? Stuff yourselves silly while the poor paralyzed granny upstairs starves? Real classy." He smirked. "Guess some folks thought 'caring' meant just sittin' pretty?"
Wang Yuning's knuckles whitened, her gaze turning glacial. "Hmph. Unlike some maggot of a man who thinks with his stomach," she spat, kicking her heels disdainfully. She snatched a bowl, shoveled in the cold leftovers from the serving dishes, and stalked towards the stairs, her footsteps echoing sharply. Click-clack-click…
They watched her figure vanish into the darkened stairwell. An inexplicable, collective unease tightened their chests, hearts pounding a fraction faster.
"Were you all on the second floor earlier?" Ning Qiushui asked the three who'd been assigned to the old woman, setting down his own bowl.
Xue Guize grunted. "Yeah. Scoped out the whole floor. No one but the old woman." He paused. "Our rooms are all opposite hers, along the same corridor."
Ning Qiushui pressed, "Notice anything… off?"
Xue Guize shook his head, then hesitated. "Our rooms… they have a weird smell. Hard to describe. Just… unpleasant."
"All seven rooms?"
"Yeah. All of them."
Yamo, the quiet girl, spoke up softly. "There's something else… strange."
"What?"
"All the rooms the mistress prepared for us… they have private bathrooms."
Beidao let out a dismissive snort. "So? She's rich. Doesn't wanna share a toilet, probably. Rich folks are like that…"
Ning Qiushui frowned. "No… it is strange."
"Why?" Beidao challenged, his voice tinged with panic.
"This villa," Ning Qiushui explained calmly, "only housed the mistress's family. Even with the husband here, that's only four people. Why build so many bedrooms and bathrooms?"
Beidao shifted uncomfortably. "Wh-what's so weird about that? Maybe they were hospitable! Threw parties! Rich people love parties, right?" His words rang hollow.
No one responded. The silence that descended wasn't just quiet; it was thick, suffocating, pregnant with unspoken dread.
Until—
A bloodcurdling shriek ripped through the oppressive stillness from the second floor.
"AAAAAHHHHH!!!"