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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 100: Dead Loop (Part Eight)
The Morgue was filled with colorful paper wreaths, and a coffin sat quietly in the corner, as if waiting for my arrival.
A colorful posthumous portrait affixed to the side of the coffin caught my eye. The deceased bore a striking resemblance to Chi Ruiqiang. In life, his features were delicate, with the left corner of his mouth slightly raised, exuding a vibrant spirit. Under the cold light, his eyes seemed to follow me as I entered, the corners lifting as if he were smiling at me. Damn, I felt a chill run down my spine, as if a cold snake had slithered up my back, sending shivers through me.
I cursed under my breath. What was there to be afraid of? It was broad daylight, and besides, I was a Mortician, here specifically to uncover the reasons behind his restless spirit. Surely, I wasn’t afraid of him rising from the coffin to speak with me? Ridiculous! I had seen many strange things in my life, but never had I encountered a corpse that could rise from its coffin to chat.
Lost in thought, the lights in the Morgue suddenly flickered out. Fine, let them go out! But outside was pitch black as well. In an instant, I could barely make out my surroundings, relying solely on the cold light emanating from the Ice Coffin.
With no other lights around, the stark white glow from the Ice Coffin became particularly prominent as I stepped closer. As I approached, that cold light began to flicker erratically—one moment it was dark and then it would emit a chilling glow.
"Evil spirits causing trouble," I muttered. "Chiang, if you have any grievances, just tell me. I'm not easily frightened." As soon as I spoke those words, the flickering stopped. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and I noticed someone standing quietly in the corner where the wreaths were arranged.
Seeing this person sent a shock through me; I racked my brain trying to figure out how they had entered without me noticing. I remembered that there was no one else in the Morgue—just one coffin—and I had entered alone. If another person appeared, it could only be the corpse inside. The thought of a corpse emerging from the Ice Coffin made me shudder. Unconsciously, I reached for the lights, but unfortunately, they were remotely controlled by staff—nothing I could do about it.
I took a step back; retreating clearly showed weakness. In my life, I had never backed down from anyone—not even when my grandfather was alive. So instead of retreating, I quickly devised a response and pulled out an Exorcism Talisman, taking a few steps toward the Ice Coffin.
As I approached the Ice Coffin, my heart sank.
The cover of the Ice Coffin was transparent; it was filled with flowers but there was no sign of a body.
I thought about it: how could a cold corpse lie in that coffin—its pale face and stiff limbs—and somehow emerge without making a sound? Yet somehow it had indeed come out and now stood silently between me and the Ice Coffin.
That icy gaze penetrated deep into my bones; even my blood felt frozen solid. My whole body stiffened as I weakly asked, "Who... who is standing there?" As I spoke, one hand fumbled for my phone in my pocket and turned on the flashlight to shine on the figure standing quietly by the wreaths.
The light from my phone was limited; what I saw wasn't a face but five slender fingers gripping a face tightly. It reminded me of some horror TV series whose name escaped me—something about an alien creature with long tentacles that would burst forth and fly toward its prey. Those agile tentacles would ensnare vital points of living prey completely before enveloping them entirely to lay eggs inside.
After laying its eggs within its living host, that creature would die while those eggs grew and consumed their host's flesh and blood until they eventually burst free from within.
What I saw now was such a scene that I was momentarily stunned, doubting my own eyes. Rubbing them and looking again, the hands were gone, and the person had vanished. In an instant, my mind went blank as I rushed over. On the ground lay a pile of bodies dressed in burial garments, nothing else.
It felt as if someone had magically stripped off their clothes and vanished. My trembling fingers grasped at the clothing, and a terrifying image leaped into my mind. Two faces appeared simultaneously: one was Chiang's, wide-eyed and screaming in terror, while the other was a distorted, grotesque visage, unclear and menacing. A pair of hands emerged, reaching for me—
Those long nails, those fierce, ghastly eyes; something felt wrong. I couldn't help but let out a startled gasp, shaking violently as I widened my eyes to look around. This was indeed the Morgue, but it was different from what I had seen before. The small Morgue was brightly lit; there were no bodies in the Ice Coffin, nor any portraits—just numerous flower wreaths scattered around.
Had I mistakenly entered the wrong place? A series of unbelievable events had unfolded? In the midst of my confusion, a sudden shout from behind startled me: "Hey, how did you get in here?"
I straightened up and focused on the newcomer—a burly man with unkempt hair, wearing dirty work clothes with a large oil stain on the front.
He didn't seem like a staff member of the funeral home, which relieved me. My fingers were crumpling the talisman paper beyond recognition; I quietly crushed it and tucked it into my pocket before asking him in return, "Who are you?"
"Just arrived," he replied with a furrowed brow and a downcast expression. "It's really not good to be in a place like this." He then turned to leave, adding another puzzling remark: "That girl is pitiful; even in death she can't find peace."
"Are you the gatekeeper?"
The burly man gave a bitter smile. "If only I were just the gatekeeper. By the way, what's your name?"
Seeing that he was reluctant to reveal what he did for a living and realizing he wasn't an administrator here, I decided to be honest: "Ma Qi. What about you?"
Upon hearing my name, he paused slightly, his expression changing: "I'm sorry; I have something to attend to. We'll talk later." With that, he vanished without a trace. I thought to myself that since he wasn't the gatekeeper, he must have come from the crematorium side; yet he ran away so quickly. I could only smile wryly at my own confusion—caught up in this Fish and Dragon Mixed Together situation where it was hard to tell who was who.
Damn, entering that Morgue earlier had scared me half to death. It wasn't my eyes playing tricks; in such a place, if I didn't activate my Demon Eyes, I wouldn't be able to see those things. If I couldn't see them, how would I know what Chiang was like in that place?
Alexander... I wondered what Uncle Lin and Uncle Zhang were doing now as I walked alone through the Morgue corridor. Even the slightest sound of footsteps could be terrifying in such a peculiar location. A barely audible whisper reached my ears; ignoring it completely, I followed the information Chi Ruiqiang had given me to find Chiang's room.
Finally, I found it—I saw Chiang.
Surrounded by neatly arranged flower wreaths stood the Ice Coffin and portrait; it felt eerily familiar as if retracing steps back in time. Suddenly realizing that I had entered this Morgue earlier—I looked up at the sign above the door: Number Five Morgue—there was no mistake.
Stepping inside, Chiang lay in the Ice Coffin looking serene as if he were merely asleep. As I leaned down to look at him closely, something caught in my eye—a thread hanging from his chin—reminding me of how his father had died with his eyes wide open and mouth agape.
The funeral home has its ways of getting the unblinking dead to close their eyes, and even to deal with mouths that refuse to stay shut; it's all a matter of thread and needle.
I leaned against the side of the Ice Coffin, casting a detached glance at Chiang inside.
It’s hard to accept how fragile life is. Just a short while ago, he was full of life, bouncing around, and now he lies in the coffin waiting to be sent to the furnace to become a handful of ashes.
“This is fine; what’s there to regret?” I pulled out a cigarette and placed it on the Ice Coffin. “A borrowed flower for offering.”
As I spoke, a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of Chiang's eye.
“What are you crying for? Look closely; I’m the Mortician from Ma Wu Funeral Home, not your father. What’s there to cry about?” I found it amusing to say such nonsense to a corpse. I didn’t look at him but instead turned my gaze toward the door. It was eerily quiet; you could hear a pin drop in the silence.
I didn’t like this kind of silence and wanted to leave as soon as possible. I muttered again, “If I had known it would come to this, why did I bother in the first place? I just experienced her abilities, but I still don’t understand how it ended up like this. A hint would be appreciated.”
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