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墨書 Inktalez
The strangeness and shock of the incident left everyone present feeling uneasy, including the police. After a preliminary investigation at the scene, their suspicions towards Ethan and Becky were significantly lowered. With the retrieval of surveillance footage, evidence clearly showed that Christopher had initiated the attack, and the entire process was laid bare before the officers. Although Becky’s actions seemed excessively intense, considering the circumstances at the time, her behavior was deemed as excessive self-defense and was not classified as a crime.
What further puzzled the police was Christopher's physical condition. The examination revealed that his injuries were extremely severe; his face was nearly flayed, and he bore multiple wounds across his body, making it impossible for him to move normally, let alone endure until now. The extent of his injuries was disproportionate to his actions, leaving the police unable to explain it and adding to the bizarre nature of the event. Whether it was Christopher's behavior prior to the incident or how he managed to remain mobile for so long, everything defied logic.
Despite the oddities and unresolved mysteries surrounding the case, the police did not overly blame Ethan and Becky. They were asked to leave their contact information and relevant details for follow-up investigations, but beyond that, they faced no further charges or accountability.
Throughout the ordeal, Ethan remained in a daze. His eyes were vacant, as if he could not escape from the horror that had just unfolded. His mind lingered on Christopher's terrifying face, which continued to swirl in his thoughts, impossible to erase. Even with a preliminary conclusion reached and police inquiries becoming routine, Ethan could not shake off the shock and fear within him.
Becky stood nearby, appearing calm on the surface, yet her hands trembled slightly. Like Ethan, she had been deeply frightened by their recent experience; although she was the only one who acted in that critical moment, the weight of repression and fear still lingered in her heart.
When an officer handed them the record to sign for confirmation, Ethan moved almost mechanically, devoid of expression. Everything felt distant and surreal, as if he were trapped in some surreal dream from which he could not awaken. Christopher's horrifying face, blood, the stench of decay, and that eerie smile tormented him relentlessly, preventing him from focusing on the reality before him.
“Thank you for your cooperation. We will conduct further investigations; please stay in touch,” the officer briefly concluded before leaving the scene.
Ethan stood there, his gaze vacant as if trapped in an invisible darkness.
He found himself at the entrance of an examination room, staring blankly at everything before him. The yellow tape cordoned off his familiar clinic like an invisible wall separating him from this place. Police officers, medical staff, and forensic experts moved in and out in a hurried yet orderly manner; however, to Ethan's eyes, everything appeared blurred and distant. His heart seemed stuck in that horrific scene moments ago, unable to escape from an endless nightmare.
He watched those in uniform busily working but felt completely out of place with reality—like an observer standing in this familiar location yet feeling profoundly alienated. The clinic had once been his workplace where he healed others; now it was filled with silence and fear.
Becky stood beside him, clutching her bag with complex emotions flickering in her eyes. Her face was pale, lips trembling slightly as if she wanted to say something but hesitated. Finally, she spoke up with a hint of apology and helplessness in her voice: “Ethan… I’m sorry; I didn’t know things would turn out like this…”
Ethan blinked in surprise, pulled back into reality from his reverie. He turned his gaze towards Becky but had not fully recovered from his terror. Looking at her, he sensed her remorse but felt a void within himself that made it difficult to respond immediately.
After a few seconds, he managed to force a smile, his voice hoarse and low. "It won't happen, Becky... Thank you." Ethan knew that if it weren't for Becky acting in time, he might not be standing here at all. In that moment, he felt he should express his gratitude to her, but the turmoil within him prevented him from truly articulating his thanks.
Becky nodded, a hint of choking emotion flashing in her eyes. She quickly wiped the corner of her eye and silently turned away, clutching her bag tightly as she walked briskly and heavily towards the clinic's exit. Her silhouette appeared lonely and weary, as if she had just endured a battle, her heart filled with unbearable pressure.
Ethan watched Becky's departing figure, still standing in place in a daze, as if the entire world had come to a standstill. Christopher's terrifying face continued to swirl in his mind, refusing to fade away. Just then, a police officer approached him, speaking with professional calmness. "Doctor, please leave now; this area is sealed off."
Ethan hesitated for a moment; his legs felt stiff and immovable. He didn’t know where to go or what to do next. The officer's determined gaze made it clear that he could not remain there any longer.
"Please come with us." Another officer gently pushed his shoulder, his tone warm yet firm. Ethan was half-heartedly escorted out of the clinic, his expression still blank. His body felt directionless as he followed the officers out of the once-familiar place. The world outside seemed to continue its rhythm, but for Ethan, everything was no longer normal.
Unsure of what to do next, Ethan's mind was a chaotic mess filled with unresolved noise and fear. As he was ushered out of the clinic by the police, the world suddenly felt distant and unreachable. Christopher's horrifying face lingered like an invisible brand deeply etched into his mind; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't erase it.
He walked aimlessly toward his car, his movements stiff and mechanical, devoid of any emotion. Once inside the vehicle, he gripped the steering wheel with trembling hands, feeling the coldness at his fingertips while despair clouded his thoughts. His vision blurred; breathing became heavy and erratic. The cramped space inside the car felt like a cage trapping him, making it hard to breathe.
"How did it all turn into this?" Ethan murmured to himself, his voice barely escaping from deep within his throat. His gaze was vacant; the only image that surfaced in his mind was Christopher's terrifying face—bloodied, twisted, filled with madness and pain—constantly eroding his spirit.
He started the car mechanically and pressed down on the gas pedal as it slowly pulled away from the clinic. The outside world continued its flow; traffic moved as usual, and pedestrians seemed oblivious to everything happening around them. But for Ethan, this world no longer mattered. His eyes stared blankly ahead at the road while his thoughts drifted into another dark corner.
"Christopher..." he whispered as if this name had become an inescapable curse on his heart. That eerie face, that chilling smile, that distorted visage flashed before him incessantly. Ethan's fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly; his knuckles turned white without him even noticing as endless fear and confusion consumed him.
The car entered familiar streets and returned to what he called "home." But when Ethan stopped the car and turned off the engine, an overwhelming sense of emptiness and loneliness washed over him. The silence inside felt suffocating; only those bizarre images continued to occupy his consciousness, leaving him feeling trapped.
He leaned weakly against the seat, staring blankly out of the window but seeing nothing at all. Christopher's face loomed like an everlasting nightmare swirling before him; no matter how hard he tried to shake it off, that twisted countenance clung to him like a ghost. Everything made him feel as if he were sinking into an endless abyss from which there was no escape or awakening.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but the fear and unease within him surged like a tide, nearly suffocating him. He didn't know how to face it all; the only thing he could think of was that face.
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