A gasp tore through Li Wei's non-existent lungs, a soundless, visceral shock that reverberated through his very essence. He shot upright, his spectral form shimmering, his eyes snapping open. He was no longer sinking into the icy depths of the well, the suffocating darkness replaced by a landscape so alien, so unsettling, that his mind struggled to process it.
He was in a void. Not the familiar, grimy alleyway, nor the cursed bungalow, but a vast, desolate expanse of impenetrable black. Above him, a smattering of distant, pinprick stars gleamed with an eerie, cold light, utterly unlike the warm glow of the night sky he remembered. A faint, ethereal mist, the color of faded lavender, clung to the ground, swirling around his translucent feet, lending a spectral glow to the otherwise absolute darkness. The air, if it could be called air, was still and heavy, carrying a faint, metallic tang, like old blood and ozone. This was a place of profound silence, broken only by the frantic thrumming of his own disembodied heart.
A sharp, piercing pain lanced through his head, a blinding agony that made his spectral form flicker violently. He clutched at his temples, though his hands passed through them, the sensation purely internal, a phantom echo of physical torment. "Not again!" he whispered, his voice a mere vibration in the silent dimension. "This can't be happening again!"
He knew this feeling. This disorienting awakening, the crushing weight of existential dread, the terrifying realization that he was no longer among the living. He had faced it. Thousands of times. Each time, the same cold void, the same despair, the same slow, agonizing drift into nothingness. But this… this was different. This was a place. A new scene. The repetition had always been the same, an endless loop of oblivion. Now, a terrifying novelty had been introduced. He was in a new nightmare, a new layer of death he hadn't known existed.
He was still lost in his spiraling thoughts, the pain in his head throbbing like a discordant drum, when a voice, deep and grim, cut through the oppressive silence.
"Did you wake up, Li Wei?"
The sound was like gravel dragged over bone, a low, resonant rumble that seemed to vibrate directly in his soul, bypassing his non-existent ears. Li Wei froze, every spectral fiber of his being screaming in terror. The voice knew his name. But who was it? And where was it coming from?
He spun around, his translucent body moving with an unnatural lightness. Standing a few paces away, half-shrouded by the violet mist, was a figure. It was impossibly tall, draped from head to toe in robes of midnight black, so dark they seemed to absorb all light around them. A deep hood obscured its head, casting its face into impenetrable shadow, a void within a void. In one impossibly long, slender hand, it held a scythe, its blade a wicked curve of polished, ancient metal that gleamed faintly with an inner, cold light. In the other, it clutched a book, bound in what looked like dark, weathered leather, its pages thick and yellowed. The figure stood utterly still, an ominous sentinel in this desolate landscape.
Fear, raw and primal, seized Li Wei. This was something far beyond the mundane horrors of his living world, beyond the angry mob and the cold well. This was death personified, a nightmare made flesh—or rather, made shadow and bone.
Slowly, deliberately, the hooded figure raised its scythe hand, and with an unnerving grace, reached for its hood. The movement was fluid, almost elegant, yet utterly devoid of human warmth or hesitation. As the dark fabric was slowly drawn back, Li Wei braced himself for a monstrous face, a visage of pure evil.
What was revealed was nothing.
Or rather, it was everything that remained. Beneath the hood was not flesh, not skin, not eyes, but a perfectly articulated, bone-white skull. Empty eye sockets stared out from the depths of the hood, twin abysses that seemed to peer directly into Li Wei's soul. The jaw was hinged, the teeth a perfect, chilling grin. The rest of its body, visible now as the robes shifted, was also pure skeleton, a macabre dance of ivory bone beneath the flowing black fabric. There was no flesh, no muscle, no organ – just bone, held together by some unseen, impossible force.
As the last of the hood fell away, the dark, leather-bound book in its other hand shimmered, then dissolved into nothingness, like smoke caught in a breeze. It was simply gone, leaving the skeletal hand empty.
Li Wei's breath hitched, a soundless, phantom choke. His mind screamed. Run. Get away. But his legs, spectral and insubstantial, felt like lead. He tried to move, to force his translucent limbs to obey, but they remained rooted to the obsidian ground. His entire being trembled, a vibration of pure, unadulterated terror. He was paralyzed, a helpless wisp of a soul before this impossible, horrifying entity.
Yet, a strange, almost detached calm began to settle over him, a bizarre side effect of his repeated encounters with the abyss. He had faced countless iterations of nothingness, of despair, of the finality of death. This was just… a new flavor of horror. A more defined, more terrifying one, perhaps, but still, a horror he had, in a twisted way, become accustomed to. He had seen the void, felt the endless cold, experienced the dissolution of self. What more could this skeletal being do to him? He was already dead.
"Who… who are you?" Li Wei finally managed, his voice a thin, reedy whisper, laced with a fear so profound it made his spectral form vibrate. "What… what is this place?"
The skeleton tilted its head, a dry, clicking sound echoing faintly in the silence. It was an unnerving gesture, so human, yet performed by something utterly inhuman. Its empty eye sockets seemed to bore into him, a gaze that felt ancient and infinitely patient.
"You speak," the grim voice resonated again, a low chuckle that sounded like stones grinding together. "Good. Most are too… disoriented. As for who I am… a guide. A facilitator. And as for this place… that will come later."
The skeleton took a step forward, its movements eerily silent, its scythe blade glinting. Li Wei instinctively recoiled, but his legs remained unresponsive.
"First," the skeleton continued, its voice devoid of malice, yet chillingly factual, "let me congratulate you, Li Wei."
Li Wei blinked, his spectral eyes wide. Congratulate him? For what? For dying? For being trapped in this nightmare dimension?
"You are dead," the skeleton stated, its voice flat, definitive. "Your mortal coil has been shed. Your physical life, extinguished."
Another shock, cold and brutal, slammed into Li Wei. He was dead. The words, spoken so plainly, so unequivocally, hit him with the force of a physical blow. His brain, or what remained of it, went blank. He had known it, intellectually, in the well, in the void, but to hear it articulated, confirmed by this skeletal entity, was different. It was real. Too real.
And with that realization, a sudden, irrational surge of anger, hot and furious, flared within him. "No! No, I'm not!" he cried, his voice cracking, a desperate, childish wail. "This is a dream! It has to be! I'm dreaming! I'll wake up! I'll wake up in my room, and Mei will be there, and… and I'll go to work, and everything will be normal!"
He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, half-expecting to see the familiar, cracked ceiling of his rented room. Nothing. Only the void, the distant stars, and the swirling violet mist.
"This is a dream!" he insisted, his voice rising, bordering on hysteria. He reached out, his translucent fingers passing through the skeletal figure, then he clenched his hand and brought it back, pinching the skin on his spectral arm.
A sharp, distinct pain, a jolt of agony, shot through him. It was real. The pinch was real. The pain was real.
"Ow! Ow, ow, ow!" Li Wei yelped, clutching his arm, tears, phantom and unseen, streaming down his face. The reality of his situation, the utter finality of it, crashed down on him with overwhelming force. "No! This isn't fair! I'm unmarried! I haven't even had a girlfriend! I haven't seen Mei in days! I haven't… I haven't lived! This is all a mistake! I'm too young to be dead! This is a joke! A cruel, cruel joke!" He dissolved into a fit of choked, soundless sobs, his spectral body shaking uncontrollably.
The skeletal figure, which had remained impassive, seemed to… waver. A subtle, almost imperceptible tilt of its skull. If a skeleton could look surprised, it did. A faint, dry mumble escaped its jaw, a sound like sand sifting through bone.
"Unmarried? Foolish things?" the skeleton muttered, its voice low, almost to itself. "After facing the scene thousands of times… his brain is dead? Or has he truly gone mad?" The empty eye sockets seemed to narrow, as if in contemplation. It was a bizarre, almost comical reaction from such a terrifying entity.
Suddenly, the skeleton stopped its self-muttering. Its head snapped back up, its gaze fixed on Li Wei.
"You ask how you feel pain," the grim voice stated, cutting through Li Wei's sobs. "It is simple. You are in soul form. A soul, when newly untethered, inherits properties from its real body. Sensations, memories, even the echoes of physical pain. It is a residual link, a ghost of your former self, enabling you to perceive and interact, however faintly, with the realms beyond the living."
Li Wei slowly quieted, listening, the sheer strangeness of the explanation momentarily overriding his despair. He was a soul. He could still feel. This was… a new kind of existence. A terrifying, painful existence.
The skeleton raised its scythe slightly, the blade catching the faint, eerie light of the void. Its voice, though still grim, held a note of finality, of purpose.
"And now, for the true reason I speak to you, Li Wei. I am here to congratulate you. For clearing the..."
The skeletal figure gestured with its scythe, a sweeping motion that encompassed the entire desolate, star-flecked void, the swirling violet mist.
"...7th Violet Nightmare Dimension."