Today marks twelve years since William's transmigration.
Before transmigrating, William was an orphan who had just celebrated his sixth birthday at the orphanage. That night, he fell asleep contentedly after a cupcake gifted by his caretaker, wishing to find his parents. When he woke, he sat at a worn dining table with a steaming bowl of noodles, half-slurped strands dangling from his mouth.
Soft morning light filled the old house's living room. Across the table sat an unfamiliar middle-aged couple; by the door, a kind-faced elderly woman occupied the seat of honor. Beside him, a wide-eyed girl of four or five shoveled rice porridge.
"Quit daydreaming! Eat up, or you'll be late for school," urged the woman --- thirtyish, beautiful even in plain pajamas, makeup-free.
"Need a ride, son?" grinned the man, a toothpick dangling from his lips. Tall and sturdy, he had a slight paunch, a receding hairline, and traces of youthful charm.
"No! Daddy takes me to kindergarten!" the girl protested, slapping her spoon.
"How about dropping Brother off first, then you?" The grandma smoothed the girl's hair.
William's mouth fell open. Noodles slid off his chopsticks with a plop.
At six, he knew nothing of "transmigration" or "parallel worlds." He assumed this was a dream---one that would last twelve years.
...
Now 18, William had fused with his host's body. He was a high school senior in a warm family of five: Grandma, occasionally bickering parents, and a spirited sister. He studied for college entrance exams, daydreamed about universities, careers, marriage---a life so perfect, he'd forgotten his orphaned past.
Until his 18th birthday.
After a night study session, William cycled home down a dim street. A shadowy figure darted from an alley, colliding with his bike. William tumbled but stood up unharmed. Under a flickering streetlamp stood a gaunt, blood-soaked man in a tattered hospital gown.
"Sir, are you---"
"RUN!" The man seized William's shoulders, fingers like steel. "Monsters! Everywhere! Trust no one---"
BANG!
A bullet pierced the man's temple. Blood mist hung thick as his body crumpled.
Police swarmed William. One shielded his eyes: "You're safe. Don't look."
...
Next day's headline:
"Person In A Mental Health Facility Kills Two Nurses, Shot Dead After Hostage Standoff."
William took a sick day. The execution felt off---why shoot to kill? That night, he swallowed a sleeping pill, triggering buried memories:
At age 4, sneaking past his grandparents' room, he heard guttural snarling---like beasts and whales. Terrified (fresh from Little Red Riding Hood), he peeked inside…
What he saw---
He fled, wet his bed, and awoke to his mother's tears: "William, Grandpa's gone."
Grandpa's body was whisked away under a white sheet. At the funeral, only an urn remained.
Questions:
① Why couldn't he or his sister see Grandpa one last time?
② The sheet hid a misshapen torso---was an arm missing?
③ If Grandpa died of heart failure, why the mutilation?
In the dream, the corpse sat up---revealing the blood-drenched person in a mental health facility. Tar-black ooze leaked from hollow sockets as he throttled William:
---Monsters everywhere! RUN!
---TRUST NO ONE!
...
"Nightmare, Willy?" His sister perched on his bed. Sunlight streamed through curtains; traffic hummed outside.
"Why are you here?"
"Mom says GET UP! Lazybones." She flounced out.
William gulped water, then checked his buzzing phone.
A text flashed:
Unknown:
"They lied about your grandpa.
That 'madman' tried to SAVE you.
Your family hides monsters---
And they've watched you for 12 years."
Water sprayed from William's mouth.