Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The old man and the old woman supported each other, their hesitant steps leading them toward James's front door. Although neither of them was particularly young and their pace was slow, an underlying anxiety urged them to quicken their stride. The echoes of James's previous wails still lingered in their ears, filled with pain and despair, as if someone were enduring extreme torment. This sound was impossible to ignore, compelling them to stand before this door.
However, just as they were about to reach James's doorstep, the wailing abruptly ceased. The entire corridor fell into an eerie silence, the air seeming to freeze around them. The old man and the old woman exchanged glances, confusion and unease reflected in their eyes. They stood at the door, no sounds remaining—there wasn't even a faint whisper of airflow.
"Why... has it suddenly stopped?" the old woman asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.
The old man furrowed his brow and glanced around. The corridor lights flickered, emitting a faint buzzing sound as if the electricity were unstable. They had walked this corridor countless times before, yet at this moment it felt strangely unfamiliar and unsettling.
"It's too quiet..." the old man murmured, his gaze revealing both wariness and confusion. He had expected to hear more sounds—perhaps James calling for help or gasping in pain—but now there was nothing. This silence was so unnatural that it sent chills down his spine.
"Should we... should we go in and check?" The old woman still held onto her husband's arm, sensing something amiss in the air. Her intuition told her that something inexplicable had occurred here, though she couldn't pinpoint what exactly felt so strange.
Both felt that this silence was unusual. James's agonizing cries had been so real and terrifying; their sudden disappearance only deepened the oppressive and eerie atmosphere. The corridor lights continued to flicker ominously, as if they might extinguish at any moment, casting shadows on the walls that twisted unpredictably, transforming the space into a disjointed realm detached from reality.
"This isn't right..." the old man muttered, a vague chill rising within him. He sensed something lurking in the tranquil darkness, waiting for a moment to strike. Yet he couldn't identify what it was; he could only feel the pressure mounting around him.
The old woman tightened her grip on her husband's arm as their heartbeats quickened in the heavy silence. They exchanged no further words but both felt an invisible threat drawing closer. The entire corridor grew increasingly bizarre and suffocating, as if some force had silently devoured all sound, trapping them in an unpredictable disaster.
Trembling slightly, the old man approached James's door, his fingers quivering. His heart was filled with hesitation and unease; this silence felt profoundly unsettling, yet he believed it necessary to check on James's condition. He turned to glance at his wife; her face mirrored his tension but she gently nodded, urging him to knock.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and lightly tapped on James's door. "James, are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice quivering with uncertainty. Behind the door remained an oppressive silence; not even a hint of movement could be heard. This stillness deepened his unease, as if whatever lay within had swallowed all sound and signs of life.
Furrowing his brow again, he looked back at his wife; her eyes reflected the same confusion and worry. At that moment, he decided to try once more. He knocked a bit harder this time; the sound rang out louder but still retained a sense of politeness—after all, they had no idea what James had been experiencing inside.
"James? Are you okay? We heard... some noises and wanted to check if you're alright." The old man's voice grew more anxious, his tone slightly elevated.
Yet, there was still no response. The silence behind the door was like an unfathomable darkness, swallowing his words. The elderly couple stood at the door, the air growing heavier around them. The hallway lights flickered intermittently, casting weak beams that danced on the walls, as if they might extinguish at any moment. This eerie silence deepened their unease.
"This isn't right..." the old woman murmured, her gaze fixed nervously on the door, as if sensing something ominous was unfolding. "Why isn't he responding?"
The old man furrowed his brow, his inner doubts intensifying. He instinctively felt that the situation was far more serious than just James not hearing their knocking. This profound silence, especially after James's earlier anguished cry, was enough to instill fear in their hearts. They exchanged glances, filled with deep confusion and dread about what might be happening behind that door.
They looked at each other once more, their expressions revealing helplessness and anxiety. Regardless of the circumstances, this strange silence had to be broken. They didn't know if James needed help, but continuing like this was not an option.
The old man hesitated for a moment at the doorway before tentatively reaching for the doorknob. He turned it gently and was surprised to find that it wasn't locked. The knob turned easily, which only heightened his unease. Just as he was about to push the door open, the old woman whispered, "Wait, maybe we should..." Her words were laced with hesitation, as if she wanted to stop her husband from proceeding.
However, the old man had made up his mind and pushed the door open a crack before fully opening it. As the door creaked slowly ajar, it sounded like a whisper from deep within. The room inside was dimly lit; a solitary chandelier flickered on the ceiling, casting an old and cold glow. The light seemed feeble in its attempt to illuminate the room but failed to dispel the surrounding darkness and eerie atmosphere.
They stood at the threshold for a moment, scanning the room but finding no sign of James. The room was unnaturally quiet, almost devoid of any life; a chilling sense of oppression filled the air.
"Where is he?" the old man asked softly, his voice tinged with unease. Just as he prepared to step into the room, the old woman's face suddenly went pale; her eyes were fixed on the floor before she screamed, "Ah! Look over there!"
The old man's heart sank as he followed her terrified gaze. His breath caught in his throat. James lay sprawled on the floor, his body twisted in a contorted position as if he had just endured a fierce struggle. His face was pale, eyes tightly shut; he appeared unconscious. Beside him lay an overturned chair, suggesting he had tried to escape from some unseen force but had ultimately been brought down.
However, the reason for the old woman's scream wasn't solely due to seeing James's body; it was because of an extremely peculiar object lying next to him—a book. The book lay quietly on the floor, its dark red cover glinting with an unsettling glow under the dim light. It looked ancient and malevolent, as if it concealed countless dark secrets within its pages. The crimson patterns seemed soaked in blood, exuding a stench of decay and eeriness that sent chills down their spines.
The old man's breathing quickened as he stared intently at that book; it seemed to emanate an invisible force that enveloped the entire room in an aura of evil. Its presence was not merely out of place; it brought with it an inexplicable sense of oppression as if it symbolized some forbidden taboo.
"What is that?" The old woman's voice trembled, her eyes filled with fear and confusion. She instinctively took a few steps back, unwilling to approach the book.
The old man also sensed the undeniable strange atmosphere; the entire room seemed to be completely dominated by the power of the book. James's unconsciousness, the eerie presence of this book... everything was inexplicable, yet it conveyed a profound sense of danger.
Comment 0 Comment Count