An unnatural, suffocating silence filled the room, amplified by the lingering stench of decay that seemed to seep into their very bones, chilling them to the marrow.
Drip…
A single drop of liquid fell beside them, striking the floor. The sound, small in itself, echoed with terrifying clarity in the dead quiet. Ning Qiushui felt Liu Chengfeng flinch violently beside him.
"K-Kid…" Liu Chengfeng's voice trembled, his hand rising shakily as if to touch something unseen.
Ning Qiushui took a slow, deep breath. "Don't turn on the light."
Liu Chengfeng froze. "Wh… why?"
"Can't say yet," Ning Qiushui replied, his voice low and firm. "…Just know this: if there's a draft, never turn on a light. And if a light is on… stay away from it."
The words triggered a memory – Ning Qiushui meticulously sealing every window they passed. A fresh wave of icy dread washed over Liu Chengfeng. He glared at the sliver of light bleeding under the door, cursing inwardly the idiot who'd left the corridor lights blazing.
Sleep was impossible now. Disregarding any awkwardness, they huddled together on one bed, seeking scant comfort in shared warmth. Eventually, a grey, watery dawn seeped through the window, the rain lessening. Liu Chengfeng checked the time: 8 AM.
The weak light revealed the source of last night's dripping. Liu Chengfeng knelt by the dark, viscous stain on the floor near his side of the bed and leaned in for a cautious sniff.
"Gag!" The putrid stench hit him like a physical blow, forcing him back, hand clamped over his mouth.
Ning Qiushui joined him, examining the stain before leaning closer himself. His expression tightened as he inhaled. "This is…"
Liu Chengfeng wiped his mouth, desperate. "What?"
Ning Qiushui was silent for a long moment. "Bodily fluids… decomposition ooze. Usually from animals in advanced rot… fats liquefying…"
"Enough! Enough!" Liu Chengfeng cut him off, face ashen. "I… I get it." He looked up at the ceiling stain above. Overnight, the greasy patch had swollen from fist-sized to the size of a human head. What the hell was rotting above them?
A sudden, blood-curdling shriek ripped through the villa – two female voices screaming in pure terror.
"AAAAHHHH!!!"
Their eyes met. Trouble!
"Go!" Ning Qiushui was already moving, wrenching open the door with Liu Chengfeng close behind.
The moment they stepped into the corridor, Ning Qiushui grimaced. The coppery tang of fresh blood hung thick in the air. A smeared trail of crimson stretched from the door of the girls' room at the far end… all the way to the stairs.
The screams had come from there. A small crowd – Xue Guize, Beidao, Yan Youping – huddled near the open blinds, faces slack with horror. Yamo and Yan Youping were collapsed on the floor just outside their doorway, trembling uncontrollably, faces devoid of color. Beside them, pools of blood mingled with vomit…
"What happened?" Ning Qiushui demanded, his voice cutting through the panic.
The two girls looked at him, their eyes wide with primal terror, as if they'd stared into the abyss. They stammered incoherently, tears streaming, their shaking fingers pointing accusingly at their open bedroom door.
Ning Qiushui moved towards it, but Xue Guize grabbed his arm, face grim.
"Inside… it's bad. Really bad."
Ning Qiushui shrugged him off. He first snapped the drafty blinds shut, then pushed the door fully open.
The sight that greeted them stole the breath from everyone outside.
On the bed closest to the door, lying in a grotesque pool of congealing blood, was a body.
The body of Wang Yuning, her distinctive gold earrings glinting obscenely against the crimson.
She was dead.
Fighting the urge to vomit, Ning Qiushui stepped inside. As he moved further in, the full horror of the mangled corpse became clear. Even his stomach lurched.
The head was intact, the neck pale and slender. But below… it was a nightmare. Skin had been savagely torn away, revealing ragged, glistening muscle and deep, vicious wounds. Organs were missing. Chunks of flesh had been ripped out and scattered…
Most chilling of all was Wang Yuning's expression. Eyes closed, her face showed no trace of agony. Instead… it was frozen in an unsettling, almost serene smile.
"Holy fucking hell…" Liu Chengfeng whispered, staggering into the room behind Ning Qiushui. His legs felt like jelly. "Th-this…"
Now he understood the girls' shattered state. Anyone would be broken by this.
Ning Qiushui forced down his revulsion and approached the bed. The others remained rooted in the corridor, unwilling to cross the threshold into this charnel house.
After a careful examination near the body, Ning Qiushui's eyes widened. He spun around and bolted from the room!
"Kid?! What is it?" Liu Chengfeng cried, scrambling after him. No way was he staying alone! The others, equally spooked, followed the pair down to the kitchen.
Ning Qiushui scanned the wall rack of utensils, his gaze intense. "One set's missing…" he murmured.
Beidao, pale and shaken, stammered, "Wh-what's missing?"
Ning Qiushui's words dropped like stones. "The steak knife and fork."
Liu Chengfeng felt the blood drain from his face. The metallic scraping last night… he'd known it sounded like cutlery. Was it…? A horrifying possibility took root, making him tremble.
"What does a missing knife and fork have to do with… that?" Beidao pressed, gesturing vaguely upstairs. Most of the others looked equally confused.
Ning Qiushui turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over them, his voice cold and precise. "The wounds on Wang Yuning's body… they were made by a knife and fork."
A collective gasp. Faces turned chalk white.
"Ning Qiushui, you… you sure?" Beidao choked out.
Ning Qiushui ignored him, turning to Yamo and Yan Youping. "Did you hear Wang Yuning cry out last night? Call for help?"
Both girls shook their heads violently, terror still stark in their eyes. "N-no… we were so tired, we fell asleep fast…"
Xue Guize suddenly spoke up, his expression haunted. "I… I heard something…"
"What?"
"…That scraping sound. Metal on metal. Now that I think about it… it did sound like knives and forks!"
Ning Qiushui locked eyes with Liu Chengfeng. "Start cooking the porridge. Extra meat. I'm going to check on the old woman upstairs."
Liu Chengfeng nodded grimly. "Be careful, kid!"
"What about us?" Beidao asked, looking lost.
"You come with me," Ning Qiushui said, already heading back upstairs. Yan Youping stayed to help Liu Chengfeng in the kitchen, while Ning Qiushui led Xue Guize, Beidao, and a reluctant Yamo to the old woman's room.
They froze in the doorway.
Sitting innocently on the small table beside the paralyzed woman's bed… were a gleaming steak knife and fork.
The missing set from the kitchen.
As if sensing their presence, the old woman slowly turned her head. A benign, grandmotherly smile spread across her wrinkled face.
"Ahhh!" Yamo shrieked, scrambling backwards and fleeing down the stairs in blind panic. Xue Guize and Beidao looked ready to bolt too, only Ning Qiushui's immovable presence anchoring them.
Faced with the probable architect of last night's horror, Ning Qiushui showed no fear. He stepped into the room.
"Shit! Ning Qiushui, are you insane?!" Xue Guize hissed, face pale. It was blindingly obvious who – or what – had killed Wang Yuning!
Ignoring him, Ning Qiushui walked straight to the bedside. He picked up the knife and fork, examining them closely.
Spotless.
He lifted them to his nose.
No scent.
Ning Qiushui frowned thoughtfully. He leaned down close to the old woman's ear, his voice a low murmur. "Grandmother… is it just you in this house?"
The old woman's lips moved soundlessly for a moment. Then, faintly: "Meat…"
"Meat… no…"
She seemed lost, trapped in a loop.
Meat no? Meat no what? Meat no taste? Ning Qiushui listened intently, straining to catch a third word. Nothing.
Liu Chengfeng arrived, carefully carrying a bowl of steaming porridge. "Cooled it with water. Not too hot, she can eat it now." The aroma of beef and scallions was surprisingly appetizing.
Ning Qiushui took the bowl and spoon. He sat beside the old woman, scooped a small portion of the meat-laden porridge, and gently brought it to her lips.
Everyone held their breath, half-expecting the frail mouth to snap open into a monstrous maw and devour the hand offering it.
But the horror didn't come. The old woman docilely accepted the spoonful.
She chewed slowly… then her wrinkled brow furrowed in disgust. She spat something out onto the blanket.
A piece of beef.
She continued spitting, expelling every bit of porridge and meat from her mouth before settling back, expression vacant.
"Meat… meat no…" she mumbled again.
Ning Qiushui leaned in even closer, his ear almost touching the old woman's lips – a move that made Xue Guize and Beidao wince, expecting a bloody bite.
It didn't happen. And this time, Ning Qiushui caught the faint, elusive third word, whispered on a breath thin as cobwebs:
"Meat… no… cooked…"
No cooked? Not 'no taste'? But… why 'no cooked'? Ning Qiushui tasted the porridge himself. The beef was undeniably cooked through.
He stood frozen for a long moment, thoughts racing. Then, understanding dawned. He turned sharply to Liu Chengfeng outside the door.
"Big Beard! Quick! Cook a bowl of plain porridge! No meat!"
Liu Chengfeng looked baffled but obeyed without question. Soon, he returned with a bowl of simple rice porridge.
This time… the old woman ate. She swallowed the bland porridge without complaint. Not a single spoonful was rejected.