Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Suddenly, a photograph caught my attention. It was a blurry surveillance screenshot showing a hunched figure pushing a cart filled with Lychees. Despite the poor quality, I recognized her at once; it was the Grandma I encountered last night. Even more bizarre was that in a report from twenty years ago, she looked exactly the same.
I decided to return to that intersection tonight.
As night fell, I hid in the shadows of a street corner. The rain continued to fall, and the air was thick with humidity. Just past eleven o'clock, that familiar figure appeared. Grandma pushed her bamboo basket and walked slowly under the streetlight.
I noticed her movements were somewhat stiff, like a marionette on strings. Soon, the first customer arrived. It was a man in a black trench coat who bought a large bag of Lychees. As he turned, I caught a glimpse of his profile—his right eye was a prosthetic.
Next came a woman wearing sunglasses; she always tilted her head as if observing her surroundings with her left eye. When she received the Lychees, I heard Grandma say, "Freshly picked, just for you. Guaranteed satisfaction."
My heart raced. These customers seemed to be missing an eye.
Once the last customer left, I quietly followed Grandma. She pushed her bamboo basket and turned into a narrow alleyway. There were no streetlights in the alley, so I could barely make out her silhouette in the moonlight.
Grandma stopped in front of an old bungalow. I hid behind a wall and watched as she pulled out a key to unlock the door.
The moment the door opened, I was hit by a sharp smell of formaldehyde.
After Grandma stepped inside, I made my way around to the back of the house.
Through the dust-covered window, I witnessed a scene that would haunt me for life.
The room was filled with glass jars, each containing a single eyeball suspended in liquid. In the dim light, those eyeballs seemed to be watching me.
The walls were plastered with photographs of young faces, some smiling, some crying.
My gaze suddenly fixed on one particular photo.
It was of a girl in a white dress, smiling at the camera. A tear mole marked the corner of her right eye, identical to the one I had found in Lychee last night.
"So it was you."
Grandma's voice came from behind me, and I spun around to see her standing in the moonlight, holding a pair of scissors stained with blood.
"My Lychee, is it delicious?"
She grinned widely, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth.
"Those children all volunteered. They signed organ donation agreements; I merely took their eyes ahead of time."
I turned to run, but Grandma's movements were astonishingly quick.
She grabbed my wrist with a grip that felt impossibly strong for an old woman.
A putrid odor wafted from her.
"Your eyes are beautiful," she said, leaning closer to my face. "They would make perfect Special Lychee."
I struggled desperately and, in my panic, my hand found a flowerpot on the windowsill.
I seized it and smashed it against Grandma's head; she let out a shriek and released her grip.
I stumbled out into the night, hearing Grandma's shrill laughter behind me:
"Run, run! You can't escape! My Lychee stall will always be waiting for you!"
I stumbled deep into the alley, the rain blurring my vision. Grandma's sharp laughter echoed behind me, like a dull knife slicing through my nerves. Suddenly, my foot slipped, and I fell into an underground passage. The damp concrete floor was covered in moss, and the air was thick with the heavy scent of mildew and formaldehyde.
Comment 0 Comment Count