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墨書 Inktalez
Night fell once again, and I sat in the living room with Lu Fan, various clues spread out on the table before us. Lu Fan pointed to an old photograph depicting a group of people standing in front of this building. Their faces bore no smiles, only emptiness and exhaustion.
"These people are likely the survivors of the Cult Incident from years ago," Lu Fan said, his gaze lingering on the photo for a long time.
"If they are survivors, why did they all choose to stay?" I asked softly. "What is it that keeps them from leaving this building, or rather, who prevents them from leaving?"
This question pierced straight into the heart of our doubts about the building. It felt as if this structure was a massive cage, with each resident trapped inside like prisoners, unable to escape or shake off the shadows of their past.
"Perhaps we need to delve deeper into what happened back then," Lu Fan suggested. "I will continue searching for relevant reports and archives to see if I can uncover more clues. I plan to contact the police officers who were involved in the investigation at that time; they might still have some unpublished records. Additionally, I will look through old newspapers at the city library and case files at the archives, and even reach out to some former residents to see if they can provide more information." He paused before adding, "You should keep observing the residents' reactions, especially if there’s anything unusual about their behavior."
I nodded, a heavy feeling swelling within me. The secrets hidden within this building seemed deeper than I had imagined, and what lay behind the residents' silence and fear? We seemed to be approaching some truth, yet simultaneously stepping closer to an unknown danger. The whispers in the darkness felt as if they were warning us that true terror had yet to reveal itself.
As Lu Fan's investigation progressed, we began to sense strong resistance from the residents. Almost all of them grew uneasy or even hostile towards our questions. Each time we appeared in the hallway, we could feel their tense gazes upon us. Some residents would immediately shut their doors at the sight of us, as if trying to avoid any contact. Others would walk past us with furrowed brows, muttering complaints under their breath. Mr. Chen, who lived on the fifth floor, was particularly agitated; he repeatedly blocked our path in the hallway, his bloodshot eyes glaring at us with clenched fists as if ready to strike. It was clear he was extremely displeased with our investigation.
Mr. Chen had lived in this building for over a decade and had witnessed the horrifying scenes of the Cult Incident firsthand, along with the subsequent disappearances of his neighbors. His wife had left him after that event because she could no longer endure the shadows and fears that lingered here. Each time he confronted Lu Fan and me in the hallway, he was filled with intense emotion as he warned us to cease our inquiries: "If you continue, you'll only bring disaster back!" His tone was laced with anxiety and threat; it was evident he feared those terrifying events would resurface.
On one occasion, Mr. Chen even came directly to our door, knocking frantically with agitation. When I opened it, his eyes were filled with fear and anger: "You better not ask about those things anymore! Some secrets are not meant to be touched; otherwise, you might disappear like those people!"
His warning sent a chill down my spine; things seemed to be growing increasingly dangerous. I began to realize that our actions were not only touching upon the residents' psychological limits but also threatening their long-suppressed fears. It was clear these residents believed that some kind of "curse" would resurface because of our investigation.
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