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墨書 Inktalez
The cold blade hovered just above the dark green qipao, mere millimeters away.
Yet my fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
It wasn't the usual pre-dissection nerves; it was a fear so profound it felt as if it could freeze my very soul.
The faint scent of bitter almonds had somehow intensified, enveloping and drowning me like a rising tide.
It was no longer just a strange odor in the air; it had transformed into tangible tendrils that tightened around my throat, dragging me violently into the darkest whirlpool of my memories.
Boom—
That pitch-black, damp night of rain twenty years ago instantly covered everything before me.
The operating room's lights vanished, replaced by an all-consuming, suffocating darkness.
A rough piece of fabric, carrying the scent of earth and mold, was harshly pressed over my eyes.
Then I was shoved into a cramped, confined space, like a piece of cargo.
The cold metal pressed against my cheek; it must have been the trunk of a car.
And that sickly sweet scent of bitter almonds spread throughout this darkness, infiltrating every corner.
"Don't make a sound, little girl."
A deep, hoarse voice, like sandpaper scraping against metal, whispered in my ear.
It carried an eerie calmness yet was laced with a chilling threat.
I froze in terror, nearly stopping my breath altogether.
My small body curled up, too frightened to move an inch.
Fear pierced through me like countless tiny needles.
"Let go of my daughter! If you want money, I'll pay! Just let her go!"
It was my mother's voice!
Heart-wrenching, filled with despair, it pierced through the partition of the car and struck heavily at my heart.
"Mom!"
I couldn't help but cry out, desperately trying to struggle, but my hands and feet were tightly bound by something, rendering me immobile.
In that cramped space, there was only my futile writhing and suppressed sobs.
"Ha..."
A cold, emotionless chuckle from the kidnapper reached my ears.
That laughter slithered like a serpent's tongue, sending chills deep within me.
Then I heard fierce sounds of struggle from outside, as if someone was fighting, things being overturned.
There were also my mother's more anguished screams, along with... the heavy breathing and curses of a man.
I could imagine that my mother was fighting desperately against those vicious kidnappers to protect me.
She was so frail; how could she...
Tears surged forth, soaking the blindfolded fabric and bringing a chilling dampness.
I wanted to shout, to tell my mother to run, but my throat felt blocked, only allowing desperate gasps to escape.
I don't know how long it lasted, but the sounds outside gradually subsided.
All that remained was the monotonous sound of raindrops tapping on the roof of the car.
And that pervasive, thick scent of bitter almonds that lingered in the air.
Then came an overwhelming silence.
Endless darkness and fear.
Later on... I was thrown at my doorstep.
The ransom was paid, and the kidnappers vanished.
I returned.
But my mother... never came back.
That strong scent of bitter almonds became an inescapable nightmare for me over the past twenty years.
It is the most profound and terrifying mark in my childhood memories.
"Ha... ha..."
I gasped, breaking free from the suffocating memories, cold sweat covering my forehead.
The scene before me refocused.
It was still the cold autopsy room, the harsh white light, and the corpse on the autopsy table dressed in a wedding gown and a qipao.
The scent of bitter almonds seemed to have faded somewhat, yet it stubbornly lingered at the tip of my nose.
Is it an illusion?
No.
I am a forensic doctor, and my sense of smell has been professionally trained; I cannot be mistaken.
This scent is real.
It not only existed at that kidnapping scene twenty years ago but also exists... now.
It exists around this corpse!
A terrifying thought struck me like lightning, cleaving through my chaotic mind.
Cyanide!
The bitter almond smell is a typical characteristic of cyanide!
Could it be... the kidnapper from twenty years ago used cyanide...?
No! The police investigation at that time found no traces of cyanide!
But this smell...
I forced myself to calm down, my gaze returning to the body.
The memories that surged back were overwhelming, almost drowning my reason, but they also brought to light a detail that had been overlooked.
The kidnapper...
That hoarse-voiced man...
When he touched me, it seemed like... he was wearing gloves?
Yes, I remember that sensation; there was something between us, a rough layer, but I could distinctly feel the shape of his knuckles.
Why wear gloves?
Was it to avoid leaving fingerprints?
I strained to recall more clues, but the memories were like shattered glass—only a few blurry fragments remained, unable to piece together a complete picture.
The kidnapper's face? I couldn't see it; it was deliberately obscured.
His height? Build? He seemed... tall? But I couldn't be sure.
Were there other accomplices? It felt like there were, but the memory was even more hazy.
The only clear thing was that deep, hoarse voice and the pair of hands clad in rough gloves, with distinctly knuckled fingers.
And that pervasive scent of bitter almonds.
This smell was like an invisible thread, tightly binding the kidnapping case from twenty years ago to the eerie corpse before me.
It was no longer just a switch that triggered painful memories; it might very well be the key to unraveling all the mysteries!
Was it some kind of mark left by the kidnapper?
Or was it related to the cause of death of the deceased?
Or, more terrifyingly, could it be that the person who kidnapped me twenty years ago is the same one who killed this woman and set up this bizarre scene?
That ring engraved with "701"...
The nameless male corpse "701"...
The qipao my mother wore when she went missing...
My engagement ring...
And this deadly scent of bitter almonds...
All the clues formed a massive spider web, trapping me in its center.
And the poisonous spider weaving this web might be lurking in the darkness, coldly watching me.
My heart contracted violently at this speculation.
If that were true, then perhaps everything had been aimed at me from the very beginning!
For twenty years, had they never given up on anything? Or were they waiting for something?
And now, why had they chosen to appear in this manner?
Warning? Provocation? Or… something else entirely?
I stared at the corpse on the dissection table, at the dark green qipao, at the platinum ring.
A chill ran through me.
No, I couldn't keep bearing this alone.
This matter was too bizarre, too dangerous.
I had to tell Lu Li.
He was a police officer and also my fiancé.
Although the appearance of that ring had sparked a flicker of doubt in me, I needed his help.
Or rather, I needed to confirm whether he was also ensnared in this web.
Taking a deep breath, I finally steadied my trembling hand and gripped the cold scalpel tightly.
No matter how cruel the truth might be, no matter what I had to face.
I would peel it away layer by layer with my own hands.
Starting with this qipao that belonged to my mother but was worn by a stranger.
The tip of the blade finally grazed the surface of the silk.
(End of Chapter)
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