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墨書 Inktalez
In the early hours of the morning, although everything had quieted down, I felt as if something was binding me once I fell asleep. Instinctively, I kicked off the blanket.
However, even after tossing the blanket aside, that feeling lingered.
Reluctantly, I sat up in bed, exhaling deeply. I reached for my phone and glanced at the time; it was three o'clock in the morning.
At three o'clock, the room was eerily silent.
But just then, I suddenly thought I heard a sound of crying.
My mind began to clear, and I couldn't help but ask, "Who is it?" But as soon as I spoke, the crying ceased.
I shook my head. Could it really have been just my imagination?
I turned on the light, and my gaze landed on the box left by my grandmother. The box was about forty centimeters high and sixty centimeters wide.
It was a wooden box, its appearance quite antiquated.
I wondered what my grandmother had left for me before she passed. Taking a few steps closer, I wanted to see what she had entrusted to me. Just as my hand rested on the box's surface,
the phone suddenly rang. In the early morning stillness, the phone's ringing startled me. Could it be that number calling?
I pulled my hand away from the wooden box.
After hesitating for a few seconds, I swiftly grabbed the phone, breathing heavily.
As soon as I answered, I demanded, "Who are you?"
"Don't open that box," came a woman's voice on the other end.
I wanted to say more, but she continued urgently, "You won't regret listening to me." Then the call ended abruptly. Her tone was anxious, as if she had more to say but never got the chance.
I stood there in a daze for a moment, then took out my phone to check my contacts. But the next second, I was stunned, because that number was not recorded in my contact list.
It was strange, truly strange. This time, I had consciously answered the call, yet there was still no record of the call.
I found the number I had looked up on my mobile and dialed it back.
When I called back for the first time in the early morning, the call connected quickly.
However, the voice on the other end sent chills down my spine, as it was a complete recording of the conversation I had just had.
"Who are you?"
"Don't open that box."
"…"
Just these few sentences came through my phone, and I suddenly suspected that I was being monitored. I looked around, trying to find any surveillance cameras.
But at that moment, a terrifying laugh echoed from my phone. I hurriedly hung up, feeling cold sweat break out in my palms.
My eyes glazed over, and I didn’t even know what I was looking at anymore.
At that moment, the wooden box caught my eye again. Suddenly, fear gripped me; yet at the same time, curiosity bubbled within me. I wondered what could be hidden inside that box.
What had Grandma left for me? And were those two calls really from the same source?
Why was my voice recorded? I didn’t believe in ghosts, but sometimes the strange occurrences around me defied scientific explanation.
At three o'clock, I stood alone in that empty room with a blank mind. Then I tried to recall some things—from graduating college to Grandma's passing—then back to her last words to me: "This time when you come back, take your wife with you. You've been talking on the phone with her for a month."
Thinking about this made me gasp in shock. This must have been nonsense from Grandma; where would I find a wife? I hadn’t even seen a ghostly shadow. But why did she say such things right before she passed away? She spoke to me before leaving this world.
I felt my heart racing, and my gaze became unfocused.
That night, I couldn't bring myself to sleep; I just sat there with my eyes wide open until dawn.
As the night passed, I still lacked the courage to open that Wooden Box.
In the morning, after brushing my teeth and washing my face, I was so lost in thought on my way to work that I missed the first bus. By the time I waited for the second bus, it was already packed with people.
Once I squeezed onto the bus, after just one stop, the people around me suddenly began to move away, creating a space where I stood.
I looked at them in confusion and noticed they were staring at me with expressions of surprise and what seemed like disdain.
After another stop, someone directly covered their mouth and nose, even showing me a look of disgust. I was momentarily baffled and wondered if it was because I had an unpleasant smell.
I sniffed my clothes, but there was nothing. I really didn't understand why these people were avoiding me. Enduring their strange looks, I finally arrived at the office.
However, as soon as I entered, the receptionist remarked disdainfully, "Saning, did you fall into a cesspit?"
I looked at her and said, "What are you talking about?"
"Can't you smell yourself?"
Hearing her say that made me sniff myself again, but there was nothing! After entering the office, all eyes quickly turned toward me.
Soon enough, someone covered their mouth and nose. I was genuinely perplexed.
At that moment, someone pulled me aside and said, "What are you standing there for?" I turned around to see it was Chamberlain.
"What do you mean?"
"What do you think? You're about to cause chaos in the office; don't you realize that?"
"What’s wrong?"
"Can’t you smell that strong odor on you?"
I shook my head, indicating that I couldn’t smell anything.
"This smell is really like the one from a morgue. When I visited my uncle in the hospital recently, that’s exactly what I smelled—kind of like the stench of decay."
"Come on, don’t say such things!"
"Saning, everyone in the company has that attitude. Haven’t you noticed? Have you lost your sense of smell?"
Suddenly, I realized Zhang was right. When I got on the bus earlier, people had reacted the same way. Could it be that I really had a foul odor on me? But why couldn’t I smell it?
"Is it really there?"
"Yes, hurry home and clean yourself up. By the way, when are you going to return my camera?"
At that moment, I didn’t have time to think about anything else. I instructed Zhang to cover for me and rushed home. I hailed a taxi and, once home, quickly stripped off my clothes and headed for the shower.
However, while showering, I noticed that the water running off my body was all turning red… it looked just like blood.
Seeing that red water made me feel suddenly nauseous, and I couldn’t help but vomit. But after I finished throwing up, the water returned to its original color.
There wasn’t a trace of red on the floor, as if what had just happened hadn’t occurred at all. Did I just imagine it? I scrubbed my body with soap at least ten times, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and then returned to the office.
This time, nothing seemed out of place. Yet all day long, I felt uneasy and restless until quitting time.
I began to doubt whether there was something wrong with me psychologically or if it was just the pressure of life weighing down on me.
After work, I walked alone down the street.
Perhaps I should see a psychologist. Dreaming of making phone calls at night? For some inexplicable reason, I now have the smell of decay clinging to me, and when I shower, the water looks like blood.
I stumbled into a counseling office.
However, the expert told me there was nothing serious, that it might just be due to stress from life, and prescribed me some Stress Relief Pills.
I took a deep breath as I walked down the street.
In truth, I was already very exhausted. So as soon as I got home, I lay down. My nerves were so tightly wound that as soon as I relaxed, I fell into a heavy sleep.
In the middle of the night, I suddenly felt someone massaging me, their touch light and incredibly soothing.
In my daze, I thought I heard her ask, "Ningzi, what is your Four Pillars of Destiny?"
This question kept repeating in my ears, but perhaps because the massage felt too good, I simply didn’t want to open my eyes.
"Just tell me..."
I began to mumble in a haze, "My Four Pillars of Destiny is... the seventh month of the lunar calendar..."
But at that moment, a hand covered my mouth. I struggled to breathe and finally opened my eyes, only to see nothing at all.
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