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墨書 Inktalez
Claire was jolted awake by the sound of a guard striking the cell door with a baton, the sharp clanging echoing painfully in the silent cell. She opened her eyes wide, staring with red-rimmed eyes, her consciousness still somewhat hazy. The guard coldly tossed a piece of bread and a cup of milk through the small opening in the cell, seemingly her breakfast.
Claire looked weakly at the bread and milk, feeling no desire to eat. Her stomach twisted from the anxiety and fear of the previous night, completely unable to accept food. She ran her fingers through her hair in a disheveled manner and then leaned helplessly against the cold wall.
She stretched her body, trying to ease her stiff muscles. This movement felt somewhat comforting, especially when Mark was not around. She closed her eyes, feeling her muscles gradually relax, as if this could temporarily help her escape reality and forget her current predicament.
However, this moment of calm was soon shattered by a whirlwind of thoughts. The chaotic scenes from last night flooded Claire's mind; her heart began to race, and her breathing quickened. Her gaze became frantic, as if searching for an exit, but the iron bars and cold walls around her left her with nowhere to run.
"No, it can't be..." she murmured, her voice trembling. Her fingers began to unconsciously tug at her hair, trying to use pain to counteract the fear within. Her gaze fluctuated between being unfocused and sharply intense, as if trying to pierce through everything before her.
Suddenly, Claire erupted into a fit of manic laughter that echoed hauntingly in the silent cell, sounding both desolate and bizarre. Her laughter gradually turned into sobs; tears streamed down her face, blending with her laughter and wails into a heartbreaking symphony.
She slid helplessly down to the floor, hugging her knees tightly as her body shook violently. Her gaze fell once more on the piece of bread and cup of milk, filled with contradiction and struggle. She knew she needed to eat to maintain her strength, but the fear and pain inside rendered her completely devoid of appetite.
Claire unconsciously grabbed the piece of bread and bit into it forcefully, as if trying to chew through her pain and regret. However, each bite only intensified her suffering; it felt like knives were slicing through her stomach, unbearable agony. Finally unable to endure it any longer, she threw the bread aside and collapsed onto the ground.
Her body curled up like an injured animal, helplessly whimpering. Anger towards herself and fear of reality filled her heart, yet none of it could change the predicament she found herself in. She knew that no matter how mad or pained she felt, she could not escape this cold reality.
Claire's fingers instinctively reached for the ground again, feeling its icy touch; her gaze became dazed as if all hope had vanished. Despair and helplessness overwhelmed her heart; at that moment, all she wanted was to escape this world, fleeing from endless pain and fear.
Her thoughts spiraled in madness and despair as if trapped in an inescapable nightmare. Claire understood that she had to face reality, but this reality was unbearable for her. All she could do was silently cry and wait in this endless darkness for a release that seemed uncertain when it would come.
Meanwhile, the guard watched all this unfold with confusion over Claire's behavior. It seemed she was extremely self-absorbed; her crying and breakdown puzzled him. The guard grew weary of her antics and didn't want to deal with this crazy woman.
One of the guards tapped the bars with his baton again, producing a sharp sound as he coldly asked, "Hey! Are you okay? Do you need help?"
Claire suddenly heard this voice as if waking from a dream. She sniffed back tears and looked up at the guard with tear-filled eyes that conveyed helplessness and fear. Her gaze gradually shifted from the brink of madness back to reality, appearing exceptionally exhausted.
"Oh... I don't need it," she said slowly, her voice trembling with evident despair.
The Guard, seeing her like this, let out a cold snort, feeling increasingly perplexed and annoyed by her behavior. They were just going through the motions and didn't want to waste more time on this crazy woman.
The Guard said, "If there's nothing else, please finish your breakfast quickly. We need to prepare for the interrogation; today will be a long day, so please pull yourself together."
After saying that, the Guard turned to leave. Claire hurriedly called out, "Wait! Sir!"
The Guard rolled his eyes and turned back to Claire, impatiently saying, "Yes, what is it?"
Claire's eyes were filled with fear and pleading as she trembled, "I... I just want to know how long the interrogation will last today. I'm really... really scared."
The Guard looked at her coldly, feeling no sympathy for her fear and plea. "That depends on how much you have to say. The more cooperative you are, the shorter it will be. However, this day will certainly not be easy for you."
Claire nodded, a glimmer of despair and helplessness flashing in her eyes. She knew that no matter how frightened and anxious she felt, this day was an unavoidable reality. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but the anxiety within her remained unquenchable.
Just as the Guard turned to leave again, Claire suddenly thought of something and hurriedly asked, "Is the news reporting on this incident? What are they saying?"
The Guard stopped in his tracks, turned around with a furrowed brow, appearing even more impatient. "Are you talking about newspapers and television news?"
Claire nodded, her eyes flickering with unease and curiosity. "Yes, I... I want to know what they are saying."
The Guard let out a cold laugh, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Oh, they're definitely reporting on it. The headlines are sensational—things like 'Venomous Beauty's Passionate Slaughter' and 'Stabbed Twenty-Eight Times,' along with 'Extremely Brutal Methods' that send chills down people's spines."
Claire's face turned even paler as her body began to tremble involuntarily. She asked in a quivering voice, "What... what did they say?"
The Guard shrugged as if indifferent to her reaction. "They portray you as a cold-blooded killer and describe the case in gruesome detail. There's even a large photo of you in the newspaper that makes it clear who you are."
Claire felt a wave of dizziness, as if the entire world was collapsing before her. Her heart was filled with fear and despair, knowing how negatively people would perceive her because of these reports. "What... what should I do?" she murmured, tears shimmering helplessly in her eyes.
The Guard looked at her coldly, his tone devoid of any sympathy. "If you want to change people's opinions, cooperate during the interrogation and tell the truth. This is your only chance; otherwise, you'll be nailed to the cross of a sinner."
Claire cried as she desperately said, "But I... I can't admit to something I didn't do... I really didn't do it! I could never hurt anyone!"
Her voice was filled with pain and helplessness, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her body trembled from crying, making her appear incredibly fragile.
The Guard watched her, feeling a flicker of doubt within himself, but he knew his duty. He sighed, his tone tinged with resignation. "Miss, you know this matter better than anyone. Think it over carefully. You have half an hour; please hurry."
With that, the Guard left. The heavy sound of the cell door closing echoed, as if it shut away Claire's hopes as well. She leaned weakly against the cold wall, cradling her head in her hands, tears blurring her vision.
"It's not me... it really isn't me..." she kept muttering to herself, her voice filled with profound despair. Confusion and regret filled her heart as her thoughts swirled chaotically. She recalled that night, trying to find any clue that could prove her innocence, but everything felt so vague and powerless.
"I can't admit to something... I didn't do..." Her voice grew low and hoarse, tears continuing to fall. Her heart was filled with despair and helplessness, knowing that no matter how she argued, she couldn't change others' perceptions of her.
Time passed slowly, each second feeling like a century. Claire's heart was torn apart by fear and regret, unable to find any solace. She could only wait for the impending interrogation, uncertain whether it would bring relief or greater suffering.
The sound of the Guard's footsteps gradually faded away, leaving the cell in a deathly silence. Claire curled up in the corner, her clothes soaked with tears, filled with endless pain and despair. She knew she had to face everything ahead of her, no matter how difficult or painful it might be; yet the fear and unease within her prevented any sense of calm.
"It really isn't me..." she whispered softly, her voice carrying endless pain and pleading. She hoped someone would believe her, but the harshness of reality left her without hope. In this endless darkness and solitude, she could only silently endure everything while waiting for a release that seemed far away.
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