The agonized screams cut off abruptly, plunging the villa back into an unnatural, suffocating silence.
Ning Qiushui was the first to bolt upstairs, Liu Chengfeng and the others piling after him. But as they reached the second-floor landing, they froze, disbelief and horror washing over their faces.
"N-no… it can't be…" Beidao's voice shook, his legs trembling uncontrollably.
The trail of blood that had smeared the corridor floor just moments ago… was gone. Vanished without a trace. Not a single crimson speck remained.
It was as if the horrific scene they'd witnessed that morning… had been nothing but a shared nightmare.
"Look! Over there!" Yan Youping's shrill cry pierced the silence. She pointed a trembling finger towards the room at the far end of the corridor.
Their eyes followed. Thick, dark, almost blackish blood was oozing steadily from beneath the closed door, spreading across the corridor floor like a sinister tide.
A cold draft swept through the corridor from the open blinds at the end, carrying with it the cloying, metallic stench of fresh gore.
"Holy fuck…" Liu Chengfeng breathed, every hair on his body standing on end. The others looked equally sickened.
Ning Qiushui's gaze locked onto the open blinds, his brow furrowed. He distinctly remembered closing and locking that window from the inside after checking Wang Yuning's body. No wind, no matter how fierce, could have forced it open. The lock could only be operated from within.
Since coming downstairs, he'd kept the old woman's door in sight almost constantly. She hadn't emerged. And they had all been searching for Yamo downstairs when this happened. None of them had opened it.
So… who had?
A chilling thought slithered into his mind: Could it be… Wang Yuning herself?
The idea sent a fresh wave of icy dread prickling across his skin. Yet, unlike the others frozen in terror, Ning Qiushui took a step forward. Then another. He moved towards the door seeping blood, driven by a grim determination that overrode his fear.
Watching him, the others gaped, speechless.
Is this guy insane?! Doesn't he fear what might be behind that door?
"Ning Qiushui! Are you crazy?!" Beidao yelled, but Ning Qiushui ignored him, his focus entirely on reaching the open blinds at the corridor's end.
Suddenly, Liu Chengfeng pushed past the others. "Kid! Wait for me!" he called, jogging to catch up. Emboldened by their resolve, Xue Guize, Yan Youping, and a terrified Beidao forced themselves to follow.
Reaching the end, Ning Qiushui's first action was to grab the flapping blinds. He snapped them shut decisively and locked the window firmly. Only then did he turn his attention to the blood-oozing door.
Under the terrified gaze of the group, he slowly pushed it open.
Yan Youping immediately doubled over and vomited.
The others recoiled with gasps of horror.
Inside, Yamo's blood-soaked corpse hung suspended in the air. A gaping cavity yawned where her abdomen should be – organs gone, only the glistening spine and ribs visible amidst the carnage. Her neck was twisted at a grotesque ninety-degree angle. And on her pale face… was frozen the same unnerving, serene smile they'd seen on Wang Yuning. Her lifeless eyes seemed to stare directly at them.
No one dared meet that vacant gaze.
Except Ning Qiushui.
He walked beneath the dangling corpse, his eyes sharp and analytical, scanning the horrific scene. "Almost identical to Wang Yuning's wounds. Same perpetrator," he stated coldly. His gaze flickered towards the old woman's room. The same perpetrator? The woman's whispered words echoed in his mind. 'Meat… no… cooked…' A sudden, chilling possibility crystallized. Could it mean…?
"Wait!" Beidao shrieked, pointing past Yamo's dangling feet towards the bed. "Wang Yuning's body… it's gone!!"
Everyone stared. He was right.
The bed where Wang Yuning's mutilated corpse had lain… was empty. The bloodstains that had soaked the sheets… had vanished completely.
So… where was her body?
THUD!
A heavy impact sounded from downstairs, shaking the floorboards beneath their feet.
Ning Qiushui abruptly pulled the door shut. His eyes swept over the fresh blood pooling on the corridor floor. "Downstairs. Now."
Xue Guize stared at him. "Downstairs? But… Yamo's body inside…"
Ning Qiushui shook his head, his voice unnervingly calm. "Leave it. It will clean up."
A collective shudder ran through the group. As they followed Ning Qiushui down the stairs, Beidao couldn't help but ask, voice trembling, "Kid… who… who's 'it'?"
Ning Qiushui didn't turn around. "The thing that kills."
"Is… is it the old woman on the second floor?" Xue Guize pressed.
Ning Qiushui offered no answer.
Back in the foyer, a heavy, suffocating silence descended. Fear, thick and viscous, had engulfed them all.
Hours crawled by. As evening shadows lengthened, Liu Chengfeng finally snapped under the oppressive tension. He stood up, his voice gruff. "Gonna make food."
Ning Qiushui rose too. "I'll help." He addressed the group, his tone flat but carrying weight. "Whatever you do… don't go anywhere alone."
Without waiting for a response, he followed Liu Chengfeng into the kitchen. Yan Youping, still traumatized by the knowledge that the murder weapon had come from there, refused to set foot inside.
Once alone in the kitchen, Liu Chengfeng lowered his voice. "Kid… tonight… you're planning to go to the third floor, aren't you?"
Ning Qiushui, pulling meat from the fridge, paused. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips before he replied, still facing the appliance. "Seems you're not as dense as you look. Rough outside, sharp inside."
The unexpected praise made Liu Chengfeng scratch his head sheepishly. "Kid… one thing I don't get. Why go at night? Why not check it out during the day? That place… it's gotta be dangerous, right?"
The mistress's stern warning and their own gut instincts screamed that the third floor was a death trap. Plus, the heavy iron door blocking the stairs was secured by a massive padlock. They had no key.
Ning Qiushui continued searching the freezer compartment. "It is dangerous… especially during the day."
Liu Chengfeng froze. The implication hit him like a physical blow. His eyes widened. "You mean… the killing thing… it's not the old woman! It's… it's up there! On the third floor!" His voice dropped to a horrified whisper. "During the day, it rests up there… and at night… it comes down… to hunt?!"
Ning Qiushui gave a slight, confirming nod. "Yes."
He finally turned, holding a specific package of meat. His gaze was serious. "The old woman downstairs is likely just a normal person. Bait. Set out by the thing upstairs to lure us."
He paused, his expression grim. "And I have a very bad feeling about what that bait might be… but confirming it… that's what tonight is for."