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Ethan's gaze could not tear away from Grandma's lifeless body. The corpse sat silently in the armchair, its posture stiff and unnatural, like a statue that had long lost its soul. Grandma's head tilted slightly to one side, her neck seemingly unable to support its weight, the skin tightly wrapped around her bones, revealing a deathly gray hue as if all vitality had drained away.
Her complexion was alarmingly pale, resembling wax, with a sickly yellowish-white intermingling. Dark bruises had begun to appear on her forehead and cheeks, her skin devoid of elasticity and blood flow, transformed into an eerie, decayed tone. Her eyes were slightly open, the whites turned dull and lifeless, the eyeballs seeming to sink into their sockets, the eyelids heavy as if she had tried to force herself to stay awake before life cruelly took her away.
Grandma's mouth was slightly agape, as if she had wanted to say something before she died but could no longer produce any sound. Her lips were cracked and somewhat darkened, revealing part of her teeth; the shriveled lips stretched tightly over her bones made her face resemble a bloodless skull mask. Her jaw hung slightly open, as if in the final moment of her life she had attempted to utter one last word, but that word remained forever lodged in her throat, dissipating with her breath.
Grandma's hands lay stiffly on her legs, fingertips pale as dry bones, the backs of her hands riddled with veins. It seemed that she had clutched the armrests of the chair tightly before dying; her nails were darkened, indicating the onset of decay. Her arms retained the posture of her last movement in life but were now completely rigid, like some cruel freeze-frame.
Her body leaned slightly forward, her back rigidly against the armchair as if she had been sitting there for ages. Her shoulders were slightly hunched inward, and her chest caved in as if her internal organs had begun a slow decay. Her entire form felt frozen in time, as if she had become part of the wooden cabin itself, merging into this silent space.
This scene evoked Ethan's oldest fear—a memory from when he was seven years old, spending three days in the same space as this deceased body. He remembered how ignorant he had been then, sitting beside the corpse for three days as if everything was perfectly normal. He did not understand the concept of death; he only knew that Grandma no longer spoke or responded to him.
As a child, Ethan did not realize that Grandma was dead; he thought she was just very ill and tired, asleep. He sat beside her patiently waiting for her to wake up. Occasionally, he would sneak into the kitchen for some cookies and return to share them with Grandma. He remembered trying to shake her shoulder gently while whispering, "Grandma, are you hungry? Would you like some cookies?" But Grandma remained motionless, those eyes still open and staring at a distant place he could not see.
During those days, Grandma's corpse left indelible marks in every corner of the room. As time passed, the air inside grew heavier as if death itself was silently spreading throughout the space—yet Ethan could not perceive it at all. He even fell asleep beside Grandma's armchair once, leaning against that cold, stiff body and unknowingly drifting into dreams.
It wasn't until three days later that Ethan's parents finally returned. They discovered Ethan alongside Grandma in that silent wooden cabin and were horrified to realize what had happened. They hurriedly took Ethan away from that house and told him that Grandma had long since passed away and that he should never return there.
But now Ethan was back here again, trapped in this memory he could not escape. He stared at the armchair and at the corpse; past fears surged within him as if he were once again that helpless seven-year-old boy forced to confront death's coldness and cruelty.
Suddenly, the figure of the little boy seemed swept away by a gust of wind, vanishing into thin air as if he had never existed. Ethan's heart sank; the atmosphere in the room instantly turned eerie. The entire wooden cabin began to sway slightly; walls and floors seemed to come alive, twisting and warping as if an invisible force was tearing apart this space.
Ethan felt himself losing control over his body; his legs were being pulled by some unseen power toward Grandma's armchair. He wanted to escape; he wanted to turn away—but each step felt firmly restrained and impossible to resist. The rigid corpse loomed larger in his vision; Grandma's pale, lifeless face stared intensely at him. The decaying parts of her body emitted a strong stench of rot mixed with the scent of death that assaulted Ethan's nostrils.
"Don't... stay away!" Ethan shouted hoarsely, but his voice sounded like a feeble echo emerging from the abyss. His heart raced wildly, and his limbs trembled uncontrollably as the sight before him left him breathless. Grandma's corpse began to move—her pale face no longer still, but slowly inching closer to him. Her head tilted slightly, her lifeless eyes dull and void of light, her lips parted just enough to reveal her dry teeth, as if she were about to whisper something. Yet from that throat came only a wet, rotting sound.
The stench of death grew increasingly potent, and Ethan felt as if he could smell the foul odor rising from the depths of hell, a terrifying scent of dampness and decay wrapping around his throat like an invisible chain, making it hard for him to breathe. His legs felt frozen in place; he wanted to retreat but couldn't move, forced to watch as Grandma's dead face crept closer and closer.
"Go away! Don't come near me! Grandma, please... go away!" Ethan screamed with all his might, as if trying to banish the horror before him. But the bizarre scene continued to advance, showing no signs of stopping. Grandma's face drew nearer, the stench of decay thickening around him like a heavy fog. Her features began to twist in front of his eyes; her once-pale cheeks melted like wax, her features compressing into an extremely terrifying visage.
Ethan's gaze was completely consumed by that face. Grandma's original appearance warped continuously, black liquid oozing from her nose, eyes, and mouth, distorting and blurring as if she were transforming into a living nightmare right before him. The face expanded and shifted until it morphed into a malicious and horrifying countenance, sunken eye sockets staring directly at Ethan with hollow darkness, the corners of her mouth twisting into a grotesque smile.
"No... this isn't real!" Ethan shook his head desperately, shouting out loud. But no matter what he did, it wouldn't stop; instead, it intensified. That face loomed ever closer, as if it intended to swallow him whole. The scent of death had enveloped him completely, crushing him under its weight.
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