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墨書 Inktalez
The surgical light burned scars onto the retina, while the glass shards in my molar resonated. The Fallopian Tube Ligation Line was taut like a steel string, playing the donation notification sound from the Dark Web Live Room. My mother’s high heel, like a miniature flamethrower, licked the air, and the charred floating particles formed my altered Death Certificate.
"Starting bid thirty million!" Director Wang's expander lodged into my bleeding cervix, and the metal clamp gripped not flesh, but a Blockchain Node for cross-border organ transport. The Cold Chain Number flowed back into my throat with the amniotic fluid, each digit carrying the salty scent of the Cold Chain Transport Box and Shuang Hua.
The female officer Carbonization suddenly inserted her fingers into my detaching small intestine, and a recording chip embedded in the intestinal wall began to play automatically. The cicadas’ cries from that night when I was fourteen mixed with my homeroom teacher's gasps, exploding in the operating room into an Organ Trafficking Contract in seventy-two languages.
My stepfather’s crocodile leather shoes crushed the incubator glass, and the splintered pieces suddenly floated into a star map. Each shard reflected the Social Security Number of a missing girl, branding the Cold Chain Transportation route on the Electrode Pad of the Fetal Monitor. My torn ovary erupted with Blood Pearls, each drop wrapped in different years of the Embryo Transport Agreement.
The real face beneath my mother’s silicone mask suddenly pixelated, each color block corresponding to logs from a Dark Web Server. As she screamed, her saliva crystallized into a key that inserted itself into my gushing Evidence Chain at the cervix. The Fallopian Tube suddenly straightened into an optical fiber, piercing encrypted data into Interpol's cloud.
"Destroy the uterus!" Director Wang's glasses chain tightened around my swelling ovary; what spilled from the chain's links was not blood but video recordings of undercover police before their extermination. A titanium alloy support exploded from his cheekbone, with customs stamps oozing my ovarian fluid.
The torso of officer Carbonization emitted an alarm red light, and a letter that popped out from a broken rib soaked up menstrual blood. As the yellowed paper developed under the shadowless lamp, the Dark Web Live Room suddenly lagged. All Tip Amounts transformed into Red Notice Numbers, crawling along my detached placenta into the Ventilation Duct.
My stepfather’s wedding ring melted into liquid metal, flowing back into my carbonizing Fallopian Tube. The precious metal solution solidified in my abdominal cavity into a presiding judge's judicial hammer, striking against a junior high school uniform number. Barcode-like stretch marks suddenly reversed flow, reassembling as DNA Evidence Chain in the cracks of the surgical table.
"Live stream continues!" My mother’s high heel suddenly reversed direction, and a shoe nail pierced her own temples. The splattered brain matter congealed into a Data Cloud, flickering within it was the driving record of the Cold Chain Transport Box. My shattered glass teeth reformed into an interface that plugged into her melting silicone mask.
The Fallopian Tube Ligation Line suddenly snapped, its end transforming into a Data Stream that pierced through the Surgical Antimicrobial Curtain. The Dark Web viewers’ devices simultaneously went black screen; when they lit up again, they had switched to an International Court Live Streaming Interface. My hand, sticky with cervical mucus, grasped at an evaporating Body Camera and slammed the chip-filled uterus onto the Plaintiff's Stand.
The Cold Chain Transport Box refrigerant suddenly burst forth from my mother’s wig, freezing the Evidence Stream into Bing Ling. As Bing Ling shattered upon hitting the ground, Director Wang's lens exploded; frames transformed into handcuffs locking his hands operating the terminal. Each shard carried my epithelial cells, branding an Arrest Warrant Number onto the Surgical Antimicrobial Curtain.
"Execute Clearance Procedure!" A micro bomb popped out from my stepfather’s crocodile leather shoes' remains. In the firelight, splattered rubber particles formed my junior high Exam Admission Ticket photo; within that photo’s pupil replayed the moment when my homeroom teacher's signature pen traced over the Organ Donation Form.
My torn Vocal Cords suddenly vibrated, and the blood mist that sprayed out coalesced in the air into seventy-two Cord Blood Samples. Each sample label reflected Cryptocurrency and Key, with the Key's bite marks perfectly matching the tactical belt buckle of the female officer.
The walls of the operating room suddenly became transparent, and the Surgical Antimicrobial Curtain transformed into the jury box's National Emblem. My fallen Small Intestine entangled with the Judicial Hammer, and a Recording Chip embedded in the folds of the Intestinal Wall began to play the audio of my Stepfather signing the Surrogacy Contract. The Pixel Block beneath Mother’s mask suddenly ignited, each color block playing different years of Organ Removal Video Recordings.
As the last Danmaku from the Dark Web Live Room streaked across my Retina, my Carbonization Ovary suddenly expanded into a Projection Sphere. The Body Bag from twenty years ago in the funeral home was reconstituting into an International Extradition Document, each seam oozing with the fluorescence of Cold Chain Transport Box Refrigerant.
The steel string of the Fallopian Tube Ligation Line suddenly resonated with the National Anthem, and what erupted from my shattered Cervix was no longer blood but a chain of Evidence stamped with various countries' Customs Stamps. Director Wang's Expander exploded under the Judicial Hammer into Powder, each particle carrying remnants of Undercover Police's Pupil and Iris.
"The trial continues!" The Presiding Judge's Robe suddenly wrapped around my falling intestines, and the Code page number transformed into the Social Security Number of a Missing Girl. When the last fragment of my Stepfather's Crocodile Leather Shoes turned to ash, I heard the Blockchain Node on my Uterine Wall begin to sync with the Global Police Frequency Band.
Mother's high heel finally stopped burning, and the Shoe Nail melted into the steel seal of my Birth Certificate. The Dark Web Server's IP Address flickered in her Carbonization brain grooves, each number reconstituted from my Miscarried Fetus's Base Pair Sequence.
The Surgical Light suddenly extinguished completely, and the Arrest Warrant Number on the Surgical Antimicrobial Curtain began to glow autonomously. I felt that what seeped from the cracks in the Surgical Table was not Amniotic Fluid but an altered original Death Certificate from twenty years ago. When the first ray of dawn pierced through the Surgical Antimicrobial Curtain, my Carbonization Vocal Cords vibrated out a Sentencing Result.
(End of Chapter)
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