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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter Three
In the dark of night, the mechanical roar within the clock tower continued unabated, like the heartbeat of a colossal beast, pounding rhythmically against my nerves. I stood at the entrance of the Mechanical Room, clutching the bloodstained cufflink tightly in my hand; the cold metal felt like a jolt of reality. The disappearance of Zhang Shoucheng and the blood on the floor formed an invisible web, ensnaring me in a labyrinth of uncertainty. Various possibilities flickered through my mind like a revolving lantern, each pointing to a disturbing conclusion.
"Chairman Zhang!" Xu Kai's voice emerged from the depths of darkness, tinged with a barely perceptible tremor. "Where are you?" The echo of his voice in the empty clock tower added an eerie quality to the atmosphere.
I turned on my phone's flashlight, the feeble beam barely illuminating a small patch in front of me. Inside the Mechanical Room, massive gears continued to turn slowly, producing a grinding sound that made my teeth ache. The air was thick with a nauseating blend of machine oil and rust. I searched every corner meticulously, hoping to find some trace left by Zhang Shoucheng.
Suddenly, a piercing metallic screech came from above, sharp as nails scraping against a chalkboard, followed by a dull thud, as if something heavy had fallen from a height. My heart raced as I quickly looked up. In the dim light of my phone, I saw the maintenance passage at the top of the Mechanical Room slowly opening, like a giant eye awakening in the darkness, watching my every move.
"Up there!" I shouted, my voice hoarse with tension. "He might have gone to the top of the clock tower!"
Old Li immediately pulled out his walkie-talkie to call for backup, but all he received in response was static. Damn it! This sudden storm had come like an iron curtain, severing our connection to the outside world. I glanced at my phone signal—of course, it was completely dead. A sense of foreboding washed over me; we were trapped.
"We should split up and search," Fang Wen suddenly suggested. Her calm voice felt out of place amidst the surrounding tension. "Xiao Zhang and Xu will search the first floor; Old Li and I will check the second floor; Mr. Lin will go to the top."
I was about to protest against splitting up—after all, staying together seemed safest in this situation. However, before I could voice my concerns, a piercing scream echoed from downstairs; it was Xiao Zhang’s voice, filled with terror.
"What did you find?" My heart sank as I hurried down the stairs, followed closely by the others.
Xiao Zhang stood in the first-floor hall, his face pale and trembling as he pointed at a corner of the wall as if he had seen something horrific. In the dim light, I saw a series of numbers scrawled on the wall: "19991108." The numbers were written in some dark red liquid that emitted a pungent smell of rust, resembling congealed blood.
"This is... a date?" Old Li frowned, confusion evident in his tone. "November 8th, 1999?"
Fang Wen's face suddenly turned pale, and she involuntarily took a step back, colliding with the pillar behind her. Her eyes were filled with fear, as if the string of numbers had awakened the memories she was most reluctant to face deep within her. "What happened that day...?" Her voice trembled, barely audible.
At that moment, the clock tower suddenly rang out with a deep, resonant chime. "Dong—dong—dong—" One sound, two sounds, three sounds... Each toll felt like a summons from hell, striking at everyone's heart. I instinctively counted the chimes until the eighth ended, and the air seemed to linger with the echo of the bells.
"Eight times..." Xu Kai murmured, his voice trembling as well. "Just like that date, November 8..."
I noticed Xu Kai's hand was slightly shaking, while Fang Wen's expression was even more unusual; her eyes were filled with terror and unease. That date, November 8, 1999, clearly triggered some unwelcome memories for them—a secret buried deep in their hearts for years.
Suddenly, the entire clock tower shook violently, as if some immense force were tearing at the century-old structure. We struggled to steady ourselves as a chilling laughter echoed around us; it came from the top of the tower and reverberated in the empty space, sending shivers down our spines.
"You all remember that day, don't you?" Zhang Shoucheng's voice came from above, laced with a chilling triumph. "The night that changed everyone's fate!"
I looked up to see Zhang Shoucheng standing at the railing of the clock tower's top level. His figure flickered in the lightning like a messenger from hell, carrying flames of vengeance.
"Chairman Zhang, don’t do anything foolish!" Xu Kai shouted, his voice filled with evident fear and despair.
Zhang Shoucheng laughed even more maniacally, as if he had lost all reason. "Foolish? The real foolishness should have been done twenty years ago! Chen Mingyuan, did you think you could forever hide that secret?"
I keenly noticed that when Zhang Shoucheng mentioned "secret," Fang Wen's body visibly trembled. Her hand unconsciously reached for the necklace around her neck—a key with an ancient design that glimmered faintly in the dim light.
"Chairman Zhang," I tried to calm him while slowly moving up the stairs, "no matter what happened, we can talk this through..."
"Talk?" Zhang Shoucheng suddenly exploded with rage; his voice was filled with hatred. "The accounts from twenty years ago should have been settled long ago!" He pulled out a black notebook from his pocket; under the lightning’s glare, bloodstains on its cover were starkly visible and horrifying.
At that moment, Fang Wen suddenly rushed upstairs. "Wait!" she shouted, her voice tinged with desperation. "That notebook is..."
Before she could finish, a deafening thunderclap echoed across the sky, shaking the very air around us. The blinding flash of lightning illuminated the entire clock tower, and I saw Zhang Shoucheng's lips curl into a strange smile, one filled with madness and despair. He released the handrail and leaned back, like a bird with broken wings, plummeting into an endless abyss.
"No!" Fang Wen's scream pierced the night, filled with hopelessness and anguish.
But it was too late. Zhang Shoucheng's figure vanished into the storm, leaving only that heart-wrenching scream echoing within the clock tower. The Black Notebook arced through the air before crashing heavily to the ground, its pages splayed open, covered in dense scribbles like a curse from hell.
In that instant as the notebook fell, I noticed a yellowed photograph fluttering out from within. It depicted a group of young people posing together, with the clock tower in the background. But what caught my attention most was the bold inscription in the bottom right corner: "1999.11.8."
Even more chilling was that every face in the photograph bore a grotesque smile drawn in blood, filled with malice and mockery, as if they were ridiculing our ignorance and fear.
The bell tolled again—“dong—dong—dong—” This time it was a continuous rumble, as if announcing the arrival of some terrible truth. And the horror of this rainy night was just beginning.
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