C5

When I came back to myself, I found myself back on the street. The crowd was in an uproar, there was no longer the sinister road that they had just traversed, no longer the white wedding procession.

I touched my forehead, which was covered in cold sweat.

The experience was too real, too real to be a dream. I stood in the street, greedily breathing in the human air.

My lower abdomen seemed to faintly move. I stretched out my hand and pressed on it. However, it was calm once more. It was flat, and couldn't feel anything unusual about it. For some reason, I thought the thing in my stomach seemed happy.

Was it because I saw his irresponsible father? I shook my head and let out a bitter laugh.

Wait, I was acting like a pregnant woman who's been abandoned! How could he be so useless? I shook my head and told myself that this thing was going to be destroyed soon.

I'm going to go to the store and buy a box of instant coffee. I can't just buy coffee every day.

I felt in my pocket and found something in it besides my wallet. He took it out and saw that it was a slip of paper. The words written on it were vigorous and elegant.

"Go to the bookstore on the corner and buy the comic book at the bottom of the second shelf. Read it by twelve o'clock tonight and burn it. Zisang Ming. "

Zisang Ming?

Is that the man's name? As expected, humans were strange, and their names were similar. The name always gave me a feeling of death.

I put the note back in my pocket and thought about it again.

Why did a ghost know the word comics? Did ghosts keep up with the times? Why did this man want me to buy a cartoon?

I lingered in front of the bookstore for a long time, until my mother-in-law put on a fighting posture before hesitantly going in.

This bookstore was very small and narrow. It was a good place to buy materials and old textbooks. The bookshelves inside reached to the ceiling, blocking out the light, making the whole bookstore gloomy and scary.

I feel a little nervous. It's scary to go into a bookstore. However, the proof that happened later on, was not because of this bookstore, but the cartoon that Zisang Ming wanted me to buy.

I stood there for a while, but was still unable to suppress my curiosity. I bought the books according to Zisang Ming's instructions, paid the money, and hurried back to my dorm.

He looked at his watch. It was almost eight o'clock. But the limit that Zisang Ming gave me was before twelve, so time was a little tight. Fortunately, the book didn't look too thick, so he should be able to finish it.

Who knew, just as I flipped to the first page, my cell phone starts ringing.

It was the counselor who called me. So it turned out that he found out that I hadn't been to class for the past few days, so he called me to ask. I made up a reason for catching a cold and then said I'd pay the bill right away, so I fooled him.

Putting down my phone, I sighed. There was no other way. The counselor called me over probably because he didn't believe that I had a fever. After all, there were many students who would lie to me like that these days. I scribbled a note and slipped the comic book into a pile of books on the table.

The counselor's office was on the first floor of another dormitory, in the far corner. The dorms on the first floor of this building weren't for students. The empty rooms were basically used as offices and activity rooms for student departments. They were usually locked.

It was already dark, and the deserted corridor looked gloomy. Fortunately, the light in the counselor's office was still on. The door was unlocked, so I knocked on it. No one answered, so I went in.

There was no one in the office. There were some files on the table and the computer was still on.

I remembered the cartoon that was still waiting for me and decided to leave the note here. But as soon as I reached the door, the office door slammed shut.

There was no fan in the office except for an air conditioner. The windows were closed and there was no wind. I stood there for a moment, trying to turn the knob, but it didn't budge.

The office was quiet, and I took a step back. A drop of cold sweat ran down his back.

I heard a small, slow tick, tick, and at the same time I heard the babble of the child, who seemed to be in a hurry, as if urging me to do something. But I didn't know what he was trying to say. Instead, he was mesmerized by the tick.

Where did it come from?

The office is not large, but because our college's various professional counselors work here, the screen blocks off everyone's table and blocks their view. And the voice came from the corner.

One's curiosity cannot be quelled once it has begun. Ignoring the growing warning in the child's sobs, I inched toward the corner of the office.

Gradually, I saw a skirt.

After that, the scene in front of me made me open my eyes in fear. I subconsciously wanted to shout for someone, but my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, unable to utter a single syllable.

The corpse of a woman lay on the ground.

The girl in the red dress was lying on the ground with her body twisted. She raised one hand high up, palms facing the ceiling, and there was a bone-deep wound on her wrist. Blood gushed out and dripped onto the ground.

Her eyes were wide open. Fear, disappointment, and anger gathered on her face, completely distorting it.

But I was completely dumbfounded ? how could there be a body in the counselor's office?

My mind went blank and I heard the child's voice again, and this time he burst into tears. And I just stood there. Suddenly, the female corpse moved.

She maintained that terrible expression as her head slowly twisted and her neck made "ka ka" sounds. I could no longer think. I just watched as she turned her head, her eyes still staring, and the corners of her mouth curled into a sly smile.

"Help," she said, her voice like a strangled voice, staring at me.

Ah--!" I finally couldn't help but scream out loud. I immediately turned around and dashed towards the door. Unexpectedly, my vision went dark, and my entire body fell limply to the ground.

This time, Zisang Ming would probably not come to save me. Before I lost my consciousness, such a thought flashed across my mind.