Chapter 84: The Ringing

The flashlight’s beam, stark white, fell upon the colossal, blossom-like face and remained utterly still.

Qi Ran felt her legs go slightly weak. It was only now she truly understood why, in so many horror movies, characters who suddenly discover a monster beside them don’t run but stand frozen, waiting for death. It was because every ounce of strength in their bodies is used to calm a heart that has skipped a beat; the mind is almost a complete blank. Besides, at such close range, even if they were world champion sprinters, there was no outrunning that creature’s attack before they could clamber out the window. The monster didn’t even need to chase them; it could simply extend its long, narrow neck and swallow them whole.

Being swallowed by it probably wouldn’t feel too pleasant, Qi Ran thought. Even with the layer of protection from Miss Ah Qiao, no one would enjoy being stuffed into a drum washing machine full of spinning blades, even if they wouldn’t die.

The small “head” swayed, as if observing them.

Qi Ran wasn’t quite sure what it was looking at, but she fully supported the monster taking its time. She felt a little control returning to her legs. She took an exploratory step back toward the window. The monster made no reaction, merely continuing to stare straight at them.

Seeing her action, Jiang Zhique also began to slowly retreat. She had heard the advice that when facing a beast, you shouldn’t turn your back and run, as it triggers their predatory instincts. The best approach was to slowly back away, keeping your face toward the monster.

Qi Ran backed up slowly, navigating by memory toward the window’s location. Only when she felt she was at the right distance did she reach out, feeling for the window’s edge to hoist herself up and out. But as her fingertips made contact, she froze—and her heart froze with them. The sensation wasn’t smooth wall or cold window glass, but something slick and damp.

The sensation moved. It felt like a very small hand grasping her finger.

Qi Ran was rooted to the spot. The feeling was hard to describe in words. If one were to measure it by a threshold, her limit for shock had already been shattered long ago. Unexpected events always occurred just when she thought she couldn’t possibly be more overwhelmed. In this situation, she was, bafflingly, beginning to calm down.

Turning her head slightly, she saw a tiny, pinkish-white hand gripping her finger. Its skin looked like a pickled chicken claw. This little hand was clearly attached to a thick, white body. Following the body upwards, it was obvious—it was the monster’s tail. She had to retract her earlier statement. This monster was indeed like a snake. Its body was far longer than it looked to the naked eye. Like a cat, if it chose to stretch out, its length could easily triple.

Now, this massive, fleshy grub of a white body squirmed, blocking the window. Qi Ran slowly withdrew her hand. The tiny hand clutched at the empty air a few times, as if dejected, then drooped down.

Qi Ran looked ahead again. The monster’s head, coiled near the ceiling, wore a smirk-like expression. She didn’t know if the monster possessed the intelligence to mock, but it was clear it was merely toying with her and Jiang Zhique, like a cat playing with its prey.

Their earlier conversation had indeed been prophetic. This monster wasn’t hungry right now, but it was very bored, and it wouldn’t mind a little midnight snack.

Did someone usually feed it? Who? Auntie Li? Or that Executor, Fang Qi? Qi Ran’s mind raced, her gaze sweeping the cramped room. She saw no bones or any other traces in this room. It was too clean. Besides the shed skin, there were almost no other signs of its presence. Even if it could swallow and digest bones whole, didn’t it need to excrete? With its size, eating an entire cow in a day wouldn’t be a problem. But how could a whole cow fit through that window? And how could whoever was feeding it keep it a secret from everyone else? Had no child who passed by this window ever noticed something strange inside the room?

Countless questions piled up. It was all too irrational. Yet no amount of irrationality could change the fact that the monster existed. Qi Ran could still feel the transparent slime on her right index finger, the clear sensation un-faded. She rather wanted to just cut the finger off and be done with it.

The monster’s upper body slithered downwards. Only then did Qi Ran finally see the Hidden Door they had been searching for. It wasn’t in the basement, but in the ceiling. It looked like an entrance, marked by a pitch-black ring, like a light switch pull cord. The monster was coiled right over this entrance. In that sense, it was indeed a dutiful watchdog.

She saw that Jiang Zhique had also noticed the door. Her right hand undid the button on her cuff, revealing the Black Snake Markings on her slender wrist. She was clearly about to play her last card.

Just as Jiang Zhique was about to press the snake markings, a familiar sound came from outside the window behind them.

“Jingle-jingle… Jingle-jingle…”

Qi Ran froze for a moment. It was the sound they had heard before—the bicycle bell. Strangely, upon hearing it, the monster showed an expression of fear. Qi Ran didn’t know how she could read “fear” on that abstract, giant face, but it was unmistakable. The originally spread-out, blossom-like face slowly contracted. The huge, long, white body drew itself in, shrinking from the previous dozen-plus meters that could span the entire room back to less than four meters, its original length. Now it looked like a bizarre, massive, fleshy grub, squirming as it slid toward the other side of the room. The enormous body, which must have weighed hundreds of kilograms, didn’t seem clumsy at all; it was simply spine-chilling.

Qi Ran turned back to the window behind her. The glass was covered in a transparent slime forming wavy outlines, likely left by that tail. She carefully avoided the slime and tried to reopen the window. It opened smoothly, so easily that Qi Ran felt a moment of disorientation. As the tension released, a slight weakness washed over her. Because her spirit had been wound to its breaking point several times, an immense fatigue swept over her entire body like a tide.

Standing not far outside the window was the little girl in the school uniform. She was just looking at Qi Ran from a distance, her finger pointing upwards. Qi Ran understood her meaning: she likely wanted them to pull open that door above.

Qi Ran took a deep breath. To be honest, she felt her spirit was on the verge of collapse. What she wanted most was to leave this godforsaken place immediately and never return. But she couldn’t. This was a very, very thin spider’s thread; she had to hold on to it tightly. Even the excuse of “rest first and come back tomorrow” couldn’t be used. She was running out of time.

Before the birthday party next Saturday arrived, she had to find Miss Ah Qiao. Only after finding Miss Ah Qiao could she have some measure of self-preservation.

“Zhique,” she turned her head, looking toward Jiang Zhique, considering how to persuade her. “I have to go up and open that door. I know we just escaped with our lives, but we can’t leave yet. What I need is behind that door…”

Clack.

Jiang Zhique, who had already climbed atop the piled furniture, pulled open the wooden door in the ceiling. A wooden ladder dropped down. She had already re-buttoned her cuff. She looked down at Qi Ran, a question in her eyes, clearly saying, “What are you wasting time talking about?”

Qi Ran was momentarily stunned. She said nothing more, simply following by climbing up the piled furniture.

As she reached the top, she shone her flashlight beam to the other side of the furniture pile. The white fleshy grub was curled up in the far corner, utterly silent and motionless.

Following Jiang Zhique up the wooden ladder, the flashlight beam cut through the dark, dust-choked room. When they saw the room’s layout, both of them froze almost simultaneously. This time, it wasn’t from surprise or fright, but because the scene before them was familiar.

The second-floor room was more than double the size of the first floor. There were no doors and no windows here either. The flashlight beam pierced the darkness unobstructed. In the cavernously spacious area, many wooden coffins were neatly arranged in patterns of twos, fours, eights, and sixteens—deathly silent and silent.

They had returned to that Old Shop.