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The Hunter
墨書 Inktalez
That day, I stood in the distance among the trees, quietly gazing at my own gravestone. The phrase "Marriage is the grave of love" materialized vividly in that moment. My husband, Chen Guiyuan, knelt before the tombstone, weeping uncontrollably, his expression of utter despair moving everyone present. What a touching scene it was—if only I weren't still alive.
I gently touched the cold gravestone, a faint smile curling at the corners of my mouth as I thought: Dear, your acting is truly remarkable, but unfortunately, you're still a bit lacking compared to me.
From a young age, I had a weak constitution, often suffering from insomnia and vivid dreams. Recently, these issues had intensified, and I even began experiencing strange hallucinations. At first, I thought it was just occasional discomfort causing my vision to blur and didn’t pay much attention. However, as days passed, bizarre occurrences around me became increasingly frequent.
Every evening as dusk fell, an eerie atmosphere crept in like tendrils of vine, wrapping around my nerves. The seemingly ordinary dressing mirror in the living room became my deepest nightmare. A strange woman’s reflection often flickered in the glass; her eyes were hollow and mournful, as if silently trying to convey something to me. Each time I turned in fright, I was met only with the cold emptiness of the room, as if the vision had been nothing but a figment of my imagination.
In the dead of night, intermittent sobs would often drift from the guest room on the second floor—soft enough to sound like a cat's whimper yet piercing enough to shatter the silence and strike at my heart. The cries resembled those of a child lamenting, but Chen Guiyuan and I had no children; there were never any toys stored in our home.
What chilled me to the bone was that on several occasions, I found myself standing in the bathroom half-awake, clutching a sharp fruit knife tightly in my hand. Yet I had no recollection of how I got there. This sense of memory loss sent shivers down my spine.
Accompanying these bizarre phenomena were waves of inexplicable dizziness. Sometimes it was mild; other times it was so intense that I could barely stand. I began to wonder if something was truly wrong with my mind.
Fortunately, I wasn't facing all this alone. My husband Chen Guiyuan and I were college alumni; I majored in psychology while he studied finance. He pursued me for four years before his sincerity finally won me over by graduation. Now we had been married for two years and lived happily together. He was a gentle and considerate husband who took great care of me.
When I once again shared these terrifying experiences with Chen Guiyuan, he patiently listened until I finished speaking and then comforted me in his usual gentle tone: "Ming Ke, don’t be afraid. This might just be due to poor sleep quality at night and mental fatigue causing some illusions. But just to be safe, I've already scheduled an appointment with a neurologist for you; I'll accompany you to the hospital tomorrow for a thorough check-up."
After a series of examinations, the doctor solemnly informed me: "Ms. Su, based on your described symptoms and evaluation results, you are likely suffering from early-stage schizophrenia. Fortunately, you sought medical attention early; with proper treatment and cooperation, your chances of recovery are quite high. So please don't put too much psychological pressure on yourself; relax your mind and focus on recuperating. Additionally, I'll prescribe some medication to help alleviate your symptoms."
The doctor's diagnosis hit me like a heavy blow, catching me completely off guard. In that instant, it felt as though the entire world was spinning around me. Those bizarre hallucinations were actually symptoms of schizophrenia.
Just as I felt myself plummeting into despair, Chen Guiyuan's warm hand suddenly covered my cold fingertips. Looking up, I saw deep concern etched on his face—an expression I had never seen before. His voice was steady yet gentle: "Ming Ke, don’t worry. We can move to our vacation villa in the suburbs. The environment there is serene and far from the hustle and bustle; you can rest assuredly there. I'll apply for some time to work from home so that I can take care of you without leaving your side."
Under Chen Guiyuan's insistence, we soon moved to a vacation villa in the suburbs. This villa was a wedding gift from my parents, situated far from the city and adjacent to a tranquil body of water known locally as Mirror Lake. The lake's surface was like a mirror, reflecting the lush mountains and forests surrounding it. The villa was built against the hillside, featuring a quaint and elegant style that blended seamlessly with the natural environment.
To ensure I could rest peacefully and avoid external distractions that might hinder my recovery, Chen Guiyuan removed all the telephones from the villa and even took away my mobile phone, as the sudden ringing always made me feel extremely anxious. He also limited the Wi-Fi usage in the villa; however, he didn’t completely deny me access to the internet. Each day, I could watch shows or browse news on my phone with his company.
Moreover, Chen Guiyuan meticulously planned my daily life. He arranged my meals with great care and reminded me to take my medication on time. Since my memory had been failing me lately, he would always watch me swallow the pills before breaking into a reassuring smile and affectionately patting my head.
Every morning, Chen Guiyuan accompanied me for walks by the lake. Sometimes, I felt he was working too hard and suggested that I could go out alone for a while. But Chen Guiyuan always disagreed; he worried that if I were to suddenly fall ill outside, I might encounter danger. Thus, he insisted on staying by my side at all times.
He truly took care of me without leaving my side. Yet, for some reason, my symptoms did not improve; instead, they grew worse, with terrifying hallucinations lingering relentlessly around me.
I stood by the window, gazing outside. All I could see was an endless expanse of countryside, towering trees blocking out the sun, and glimpses of the lake's shimmer. Occasionally, a few mournful bird calls pierced the silence. It was indeed very quiet here, as if time itself had come to a standstill.
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