Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
Eternal Dawn
墨書 Inktalez
Chapter One: Misplaced Relics
The scent of medical alcohol was revived in the torrential rain.
Lin Xia's hiking boots crunched over the shards of glass in the waiting hall, and a registration slip from 1992 floated in the water, its color resembling jaundice. She raised her Sony PD150 camera, but the viewfinder suddenly fogged up—there was a figure in a white nurse's uniform writing at the reception desk, a gray-white bun peeking out from beneath a tailcoat hat, with dried iodine stains on the cuffs.
"It's the seventh time." Chen Dong fiddled with the Fluke TiS75 infrared thermal imager, the building's outline on the screen oozing strange blue spots. "From nine this morning until now, the electromagnetic field strength has fluctuated 127 times, peaking at..."
His voice was abruptly cut off by a sudden buzzing. The electromagnetic radiation detector emitted a sharp alarm at 13:24, the value freezing at -127μT, like a clock stuck in a fateful moment. Shen Mo stood before the nonexistent East Annex, the chain of his Bronze Pocket Watch deeply embedded in his wrist, its glass face cracked into a web pattern, yet he could still see the hands sweeping counterclockwise over the Roman numerals.
"Director Zhou is truly a paradox." Lu Chuan sliced through the wall with a scalpel, revealing an advertisement for Chlorpromazine from 1987. On the faded poster, a smiling patient held up a banner proclaiming "Rebirth," with faded small print in the lower right corner: This product may cause temporal and spatial cognitive disorders; it is recommended to use in conjunction with the Morning Light Project.
Lin Xia's fingertips brushed over the marble surface of the reception desk, and a fresh scratch pricked her skin. Upon closer inspection, she found it was a series of Russian letters—ЖД-7—deep within which remained traces of greenish-blue patina. This discovery tightened her neck; how could there be new scratches that hadn’t oxidized on a registration desk from thirty years ago?
Su Li's compass spun wildly in the distribution room. She removed her specially designed magnetic tape echo eliminator and heard amidst the electrical noise a Russian announcement: "Thirteen Hours Twenty Four Minutes." A rusty transformer suddenly sparked, casting a large shadow on the wall that unmistakably resembled a body bound to an Electric Chair.
As raindrops shattered the dome mural above, everyone saw Dante's oar transform into a syringe. Lin Xia's camera faithfully recorded this moment: in the lead-glass mosaic scene of The Divine Comedy, Charon's left eye was seeping pale blue liquid that flowed along Dante's cloak into a crack marked "1989.7.16."
"Let's retreat to the living area!" Chen Dong grabbed an emergency pack, and the beam of his tactical flashlight cut through the rain curtain. As they crossed through the corridor, Lin Xia caught a familiar Lavender Scent—exactly like that in her grandmother's hospital room during her final days. Her Tungsten Steel Hairpin suddenly heated up; it was a gift from Director Zhou for his only daughter's twentieth birthday.
The iron gate of the living area bore a seal from March 1992, yet the official stamp displayed "Qinglan Mountain Mental Health Center." Shen Mo's pocket watch chain suddenly tightened; its cover popped open automatically to reveal engraved coordinates: N32°07′E118°24′. This revelation made his pupils constrict—it was precisely their current latitude and longitude.
"Someone is resetting the scene." Lu Chuan lifted the adhesive on the back of the seal with his scalpel. "This is modified acrylic produced in 2015, but its aging matches thirty-year standards." The hem of his lab coat fluttered without wind, revealing a silver syringe clipped to his waist, its barrel swaying with some fluorescent liquid inside.
Su Li suddenly knelt down, and Spirit Response Plate slipped out from her backpack. The Brass Pointer began to turn on its own, spelling out three Chinese characters: find, me, play. Laughter from children mixed with the static of an old broadcast came from the direction of the power distribution room: "It is now treatment time. Patients in Ward Seven, please gather in the dialysis room."
Lin Xia felt a throbbing in her temples as blood vessel-like patterns appeared in the camera's viewfinder. When she focused on the East Annex, she was shocked to see figures in striped patient uniforms standing at every window, their wrists tied with red strings, waving at the camera in perfect synchrony.
"Did you hear that?" Shen Mo's pocket watch kept opening and closing, producing a metronome-like sound. "Someone is tapping on the heating pipe, Morse Code..." His voice suddenly distorted and switched to Russian: "Thirteen Hours Twenty Four Minutes."
Chen Dong's wolf-eye flashlight swept across the outer wall of the cafeteria, and the beam suddenly refracted at a certain height. He pushed aside the climbing ivy to reveal a glass curtain wall embedded in the building—inside were rows of medical files, with the most recent dated September 17, 2023. In the patient photo section, there stood five people currently caught in the rain.
The heavy rain abruptly stopped at 13:24. The inverted outline of the hospital emerged from the pooled water, with warm orange light glowing from every window. Lin Xia's hairpin fell off automatically, its tip carving deep grooves into the cement floor, forming a pattern resembling the Big Dipper. As the handle pointed towards the East Annex, the entire building suddenly roared as if gears were grinding together.
"Look at the dome!" Su Li's scream was laced with tremors. The figure of Dante in the mural turned his face towards them, and a syringe-shaped paddle pointed towards the living area. Lu Chuan's white coat ignited spontaneously without wind, revealing a restraint suit marked with ЖД-7. Shen Mo's pocket watch reflected the lights from the top floor of the East Annex; a figure in a white coat was drawing a star map.
The medical broadcast sounded again, this time in Chinese: "Memory dialysis is ready. Experiment Group 43, please proceed to Zone Ω." Chen Dong's electromagnetic detector screen cracked open; blood dripped from his tiger claw into strange symbols on the ground—exactly like the Big Dipper drawn by Lin Xia's hairpin.
Lin Xia suddenly recalled her grandmother's last words: "When the Big Dipper drinks from the River of Oblivion, remember to open Iris for moonlight." Her camera began to rewind automatically, flashing countless unfamiliar images: herself bound in a restraint suit on an Electric Chair, Lu Chuan mixing Blue Potion, while in the dome mural, a syringe injected starlight from the galaxy into her pupils.
Shen Mo's pocket watch suddenly broke free from its chains, floating in mid-air as it disassembled and reassembled into a Bronze Compass. The magnetic needle spun wildly before pointing towards the basement of East Annex; blood-red warnings appeared on its face: Do not trust memories after 1992.
The rain began again, this time with a faint blue glow. As everyone fled towards the outpatient hall, Lin Xia saw her reflection in the water—she was a girl in a striped patient uniform with a red string tied around her wrist, using her camera to capture another storm from another time and space.
Comment 0 Comment Count