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墨書 Inktalez
Every day after moving into the new apartment, the sense of strangeness in the building deepened. I decided to utilize my professional background to analyze the behaviors of my neighbors from a psychological perspective. As a psychologist, I understood that people's fears and anxieties often manifest as expressions of deep-seated psychological trauma. This trauma seemed particularly evident among the residents of this building.
I began to observe the residents' behaviors more closely. mother Li's face bore a constant look of exhaustion; her eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles hung beneath them, as if she had long been deprived of rest. The Old Woman would pause for a moment every time she reached the end of the hallway, quickly lowering her head to avoid looking in that direction. Meanwhile, Xiao Ming's fear of whispers in the corridor was evident; he would huddle next to his mother every time he heard noises at night, his face pale and muttering to himself. All these signs pointed to a collective psychological trauma. Lu Fan and I decided to delve deeper into the stories behind our neighbors.
One day, I knocked on the door of another neighbor, elder Liu, who lived on the third floor. elder Liu was an old resident of the building, probably in his sixties, and always wore a serious expression. When he opened the door and saw me, there was a flicker of wariness in his eyes, but it quickly faded into calm.
“ elder Liu, hello. I'm Shen Jing from across the hall. I wanted to visit you and chat about the history of this building,” I said with a smile, trying to ease his apprehension with a gentle demeanor.
elder Liu hesitated for a moment but eventually let me in. His room was simply furnished, with some old photographs hanging on the walls—some yellowed with age, showing scenes of him with family during his youth, along with some black-and-white portraits that vaguely captured memories of the past. An old radio sat on the table next to several worn magazines and a pair of reading glasses. The entire room exuded an air of nostalgia, as if time had stopped here, enveloped in silence and oppression. I sat on the sofa and tried to initiate some light conversation.
“ elder Liu, you’ve lived here for quite a while, haven’t you?” I asked.
He nodded slightly, a bitter smile crossing his face. “Yes, I've been here for over twenty years.”
I tentatively asked, “Have you heard anything about what happened at the end of the hallway? Or has anything unusual occurred?”
His expression turned serious at once; he glanced at me as if weighing whether or not to share. After a moment of silence, he spoke softly, “Young lady, this building is not an ordinary place. A few years ago, some strange things happened here; several people… just vanished without a trace. Trust me; don’t get involved in those matters—just live your life peacefully.”
His voice carried clear fear and avoidance; I could sense that deep-seated psychological trauma within him. He clearly did not want to discuss it further and seemed eager for me to leave. I nodded without pressing for more details and took my leave.
Back home, I recounted my conversation with elder Liu to Lu Fan. He frowned; his background as a journalist made him naturally sensitive to such matters. “It seems this building really hides some big secrets,” he said. “I’ll continue researching its history; maybe we can find some clues.”
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