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墨書 Inktalez
I took a deep breath, the room was pitch dark, and I felt increasingly uneasy. I shouted, "Who’s in here?"
I got out of bed. The place I rented wasn’t big—just a one-bedroom apartment with a bathroom.
I first checked the living room, then the bathroom, but the house was empty; there was nothing at all.
Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone else in the room.
It was already past eleven, and it was almost midnight.
After a thorough search and finding nothing, my gaze fell on the camera. I walked over and turned it on, thinking that whatever it was, if it came close, I would capture it on film.
Questions swirled in my mind. Earlier, someone had asked me about the Four Pillars of Destiny, and I didn’t dare to sleep just yet.
I also couldn’t tell if it had been a dream; it felt like just as I was about to speak, someone had covered my mouth with their hand.
Sitting on the bed, I felt as if something in the room was watching me. But if I wanted to uncover the truth, I had to pretend to sleep while keeping the camera pointed at me.
I hadn’t intended to sleep at all, but for some reason, I felt incredibly tired. My eyelids kept drooping until finally, I drifted off again.
Surprisingly, this time I slept soundly.
When I opened my eyes, I got out of bed and checked the camera. At first, the recording showed only me. But as I slowly fell asleep again, something strange happened.
I got out of bed once more, and this time I actually opened the wooden box that my grandmother had given me.
When the Wooden Box was opened, I pressed the pause button because I wanted to see what was inside it, but after watching for a while, I realized there was nothing to see.
The video continued to play, and I saw myself reaching into the Wooden Box to pull out a Red Wedding Dress.
My eyes widened in surprise because this dress was a traditional Chinese wedding gown. Once the gown was taken out, I suddenly turned to the camera and flashed a charming smile. Then, astonishingly, I put on the red wedding dress.
I was stunned, feeling a chill run down my spine.
What was happening? Was I sleepwalking? I thought to myself.
But soon after, the version of me in the red wedding dress suddenly asked the camera, "Am I beautiful?"
I gasped, feeling my scalp tingle.
I continued to watch as the me in the red wedding dress began tidying up my bed, neatly folding the blankets. About ten minutes later, the version of me in the video took off the wedding dress, folded it neatly, and placed it back into the Wooden Box. Then she walked over and turned off the camera.
This scene was extremely bizarre, and I could feel cold sweat forming in my palms.
Staring at the darkened screen, I became increasingly confused about what had just happened. I even began to doubt whether the "me" in the footage was truly me.
The sunlight outside streamed in, reminding me that it was almost time for work.
I changed into a different outfit and took one last glance at the Wooden Box before heading out.
After getting on the bus, I wore a gloomy expression, my mind filled with images from the video. However, this time no one on the bus looked at me with surprise.
Once I arrived at the office, I continued to look listless.
As I was working, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my head. At that moment, Zhang, the chubby guy, tapped my shoulder while holding some documents. Suddenly, I fainted.
When I passed out, I could only hear someone calling my name in my ear.
When I woke up, it was already noon. I found myself lying in a hospital bed with Zhang sitting beside me.
I asked him, "What happened to me?"
"You fainted. The test results will come out tomorrow; you might need to stay in the hospital tonight."
I wanted to say something else.
Zhang continued, "Give me your keys; I'll go get you some clean clothes."
"Stay in the hospital?"
"Stop talking nonsense."
In a daze, I handed my keys to Zhang. After he left, I was alone in the room with another patient. This patient was an older man, probably in his forties.
Lying in bed, I wondered how I had ended up in the hospital so confusedly.
By the time Zhang returned with my clothes, it was already afternoon.
During my stay, I asked a nurse about my condition. She suggested that I might have been hospitalized due to extreme fatigue. Zhang, the chubby guy, was holding a bag in one hand and a camera in the other.
I suddenly felt a bit anxious; I was afraid he would see the footage inside the camera. So, I said to Zhang, "Can I borrow the camera for a few more days?"
Zhang looked at me with suspicion, but in the end, he left the camera with me.
"You can go back to work. I'll be fine on my own."
Zhang didn't hesitate and replied, "I have some things to finish up at work anyway, so I'll head back." After I acknowledged him with a sound, I finally breathed a sigh of relief as I watched Zhang's figure disappear.
The content on that camera couldn't be exposed.
It hadn't been long since I had been inexplicably thrown into the hospital, lying on the bed feeling utterly bored. I wanted to pull out a cigarette to smoke, but after searching for a while, I found nothing.
I glanced at the middle-aged man lying in the next bed. The craving for a cigarette hit me hard, so I asked, "Hey there, could you spare me a cigarette?"
The middle-aged man had been lying on his side with his back to me. When he heard me call out, he turned his face toward me.
His face looked strange, as if coated with a layer of white powder.
"Cigarette? Don't waste one on someone who's about to die."
At first, I didn't quite register his words and then asked, "What do you mean?"
But the middle-aged man fell silent again and turned back to his side.
I couldn't help but think of the worst; could it be that I was terminally ill? Had the doctors, nurses, and even Zhang been hiding this from me? With that thought racing through my mind, I scrambled out of bed and approached the middle-aged man. "Hey! You just said I'm about to die. Does that mean I've got a terminal illness? Are they all keeping this from me?"
The middle-aged man kept his eyes tightly closed and remained silent.
I grew anxious and said, "I must have a terminal illness. Brother, you have to tell me the truth."
The middle-aged man seemed annoyed by my words and finally replied, "Stop whining. You don't have a terminal illness, but... never mind. Here, take a cigarette; consider it a good deed on my part."
I took the cigarette hesitantly, but I felt as if his statement was incomplete.
I wanted to ask more, but he interrupted me with a rather harsh remark.
"I don't talk to the dead."
I wanted to retort, but since he had given me a cigarette, I held my tongue. Still, his words left me feeling tense.
So much so that when the nurse came in, I couldn't help but confirm with her that I truly did not have a terminal illness.
The nurse assured me that I absolutely did not have one.
Only then did I feel relieved.
Because I was afraid someone might see the contents of my camera, I carried it with me everywhere. Even at night when I went to sleep, I kept the camera close.
That night in the hospital, I slept particularly well.
However, when I opened my eyes the next morning, I saw the Wooden Box my grandmother had left for me sitting on the cabinet beside my bed.
The middle-aged man was nowhere to be found.
I looked around, wondering if this Wooden Box was brought to me by Zhang. I took out my phone and called him.
Zhang answered the call.
But in the end, I found out that he hadn’t brought the Wooden Box at all.
Just then, a middle-aged man walked in and overheard my conversation. He glanced at me, and I returned his gaze, noticing the bloodshot veins bursting in his eyes.
He stared at me intently.
Suddenly, he said, “I’m the one who got you this Wooden Box.”
I was shocked beyond belief; a complete stranger had brought me the Wooden Box. I looked at the middle-aged man and asked, “Why did you help me get the box?”
I glanced at the key resting on the cabinet.
The middle-aged man widened his eyes, the blood vessels spreading further. He looked at me, then lit a cigarette for himself, took a deep drag, and exhaled slowly, the smoke swirling around him, making it hard for me to see his face clearly.
I couldn’t help but urge him, “You entered my room without my permission. If you don’t give me an explanation, I can call the police.”
“Kid, I saved your life. Don’t you realize that?”
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