Deep Well - Chapter 2
After the head separated from the body, some blood flowed out of the cavity. This thick, dark blood had a foul odor, more like gutter water. He cradled Zhou Baoqiang's head and smiled, "Are you alright?"
The head might still retain some hearing; a smile suddenly appeared on its face, and the corner of its mouth twitched as if it wanted to speak. However, this head no longer had vocal cords, so naturally, it couldn't make a sound. He suddenly had a mischievous idea and pressed Zhou Baoquan's head against the coffee table as well.
Zhou Baoqiang's neck cut was still bleeding profusely, and the cut was relatively clean. When it touched the smooth glass surface, it immediately adhered like a suction cup. He moved her head slightly, facing Zhou Baoquan, and whispered, "Now, do you see clearly?"
Zhou Baoqiang's eyes slowly closed. To his surprise, two lines of tears streamed down Zhou Baoqiang's face.
Perhaps because the tear ducts are located on the head and directly controlled by the brain, Zhou Baoqiang's brain is not yet dead, but without blood supplying oxygen, it will likely die within a minute. He slowly took off his coat and threw it onto the sofa. A pool of blood had formed on the sofa, but because it was leather, the blood could only accumulate on it and was congealing. His coat, though also stained with blood, had far less than the blood on the sofa, making it appear cleaner once covered.
What should he do with this pile of flesh? When he cut off Zhou Baoqiang's head, he felt only satisfaction, but once the matter was over, he felt a sense of emptiness. Should he really reunite them as he had told Zhou Baoqiang? He was furious and kicked him.
After being kicked in the head, Zhou Baoqiang flew out like a soccer ball and slammed heavily against the wall. Even if the head was attached to the neck, such a heavy impact would have been enough to fracture the skull, and Zhou Baoqiang would certainly be dead by now. He picked up her head and held it in front of his eyes, whispering, "See? Now you can have what you want."
Her face was completely bloodless, her eyes were half-closed, and her pupils rolled upwards like those of a dead fish.
"I love you."
---Magpie Bridge Fairy
Reply [11]: He spoke softly, cupped her head, and gently kissed her lips. Her lips were still soft, but as cold as ice. In his ears, he seemed to suddenly hear the drizzle again, sprinkling on the umbrella, fine and dense. In the sound of the rain, he vaguely seemed to hear her timidly say, "I love you too."
No, he couldn't let her be placed with Zhou Baoqiang's filthy body. He held her in his arms and looked around.
Outside the glass door, the moonlight cast the shadow of a tree branch. It left a faint shadow on the glass before projecting it onto the ground, swaying incessantly. He pushed open the door and stepped into the courtyard. As soon as he entered the courtyard, the door immediately shut out the stench of blood from inside the house. He looked up at the moon.
The moon was half-full, already quite large; in a few days it would probably become a full moon. He then noticed that the moon was indeed yellow, so round and smooth, like a piece of oil scooped out with a spoon, as if it might melt at any moment. In the courtyard, the bamboo branches and leaves swayed in the wind, making a soft, rustling sound.
He held her head in his arms and walked towards the clump of trees.
There was a dry well in the courtyard. He remembered that when he was a child, whenever he came to Zhou Baoqiang's house and was about to approach the well, Zhou Baoqiang's mother, a fat woman with her hair in a bun, would shout loudly, "Qiang, don't go there."
Back then, the well's rim was still intact. Because of frequent water outages, this well had served a great purpose. Now, the well should still be there, right? But as he brushed aside the branches, he was taken aback.
Where I remember there should have been a well, now it's just overgrown with weeds.
Perhaps, that well has been destroyed?
He walked over with some suspicion and carefully parted the grass. The grass was very tall, reaching up to his knees. He remembered that the well was actually very narrow; if it were Zhou Baoqiang's mother, she probably would have only been able to fall in with one leg in.
Perhaps it really has already been filled in?
When he had scanned the area for a week and still hadn't seen anything, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
Perhaps it's time to dig two holes.
As he was thinking, he suddenly felt as if the head under his armpit had opened its eyes.
This wasn't what he saw, but the feeling was so real that it sent a chill down his spine. His hand involuntarily loosened, and the head rolled away from his grasp. He was startled and reached out to catch it, but his fingertips only touched her long, soft hair before she had already rolled into the grass.
He took a step forward, about to grope his way into the grass, when suddenly everything went black and he missed a step. Before he knew what had happened, he heard a series of loud noises, and the ground began to rise rapidly. Before he could even process what was happening, several blades of grass swept past his eyes like whips, stinging them. Then came a splash of water, and everything went dark again.
When he was startled awake by the sounds of a man and woman having sex, his first thought was that he was having a nightmare. Only nightmares could make someone feel so paralyzed. It was so dark that he couldn't see anything, and in the darkness, the sounds were clear and real, yet they seemed even more unreal. However, as his consciousness gradually returned, he realized that it was just the cassette player in his arms playing.
The player could automatically change tapes, so it was impossible to know how long it had been playing. However, the sound was still very clear, so he couldn't have been unconscious for long. It was just that everything was too dark, so dark that there was nothing at all, and his body was like a mouse caught in a mousetrap, unable to move an inch. His hands were stretched out above his head, and his chest felt like it was being crushed by a thousand-pound weight, making it difficult for him to breathe. His feet were wet, as if he were standing in a basin of water.
He'd fallen into that well. He smacked his lips, feeling an unbearable dryness in his mouth. He remembered reading an anecdote in school about how, in olden times, Japanese officials would make witnesses hold a mouthful of rice in their mouths during trials. If the rice was still dry when they spat it out, it meant they were lying, because people don't saliva when they're panicked. Now, he felt as panicked as a caught criminal.
The well was somewhat shaped like a trumpet; the lower you went, the smaller the opening became, and he had now fallen to the bottom—not even counting the bottom itself. He had to stand on his tiptoes to reach the bottom, meaning he was actually about ten centimeters away. It was precisely these ten centimeters that made it difficult for him to breathe. The narrow well walls pressed against his chest, preventing his lungs from fully expanding, and the bottom, due to the lack of air circulation, was damp and foul-smelling. The well was actually long dry; what he was standing on was merely a pool of water accumulated from rain, only reaching about his knees.
If the well weren't so small, climbing out, while difficult, wouldn't be impossible. But in its current state, how can we get out?
Although he seemed to be in dire straits, strangely, he wasn't panicked at all; instead, he found it somewhat amusing. In this environment, the sounds of flesh rubbing against flesh coming from the headphones suddenly became exceptionally clear and unbelievable. He tried to move, but immediately realized that his body was stuck too tightly. He could still move his feet and both hands, but his shoulders and hips were as if glued together, making it impossible to move even an inch.
He didn't know what time it was. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see a patch of sky above. The small, round sky was fragmented and disorganized by the grass growing on the well walls; from below, it looked almost like the sky seen through a hollow steel pipe. The solid well walls did indeed resemble a steel pipe, and due to his weight, he was tightly wedged inside. The flesh around his waist was probably slightly deformed from being stuck, but he felt nothing.
---Magpie Bridge Fairy
Reply [12]: His forehead still hurt a little, but he knew it wasn't from the impact, but from the aftereffects of the anesthetic wearing off. That watermelon juice, it wasn't just Zhou Baoqiang's that had the anesthetic... Thinking of this, he didn't feel any extra hatred for Zhou Baoqiang, but rather a sense of understanding. At least, he had always wanted to know the methods Zhou Baoqiang and she had discussed in bed on that tape to deal with him, and now he knew most of them. Perhaps Zhou Baoqiang's plan was exactly the same as his. If that were the case, then although Zhou Baoqiang was dead, he deserved to die, but his goal had still been achieved.
This could give a basis to fatalism.
Because he was practically hanging precariously in the well wall, it wasn't until the numbness subsided and his senses gradually returned that he felt the soreness in his chest and back. He moved his feet, trying to get his tiptoe to a higher place. As his feet moved, the water made some noise, but because he had completely blocked the well opening, the sound was probably only audible to him.
His shoes were filled with water when his toes suddenly bumped into something round. At first, he didn't know what it was, thinking it was some kind of ball that had fallen in long ago. But the ball was quite hard and had a bumpy surface. He used his toes to pull the ball over and step on it, raising himself slightly. Suddenly, he realized what the ball was.
That's her head.
Now her head was at his feet. This made him feel both ridiculous and sorrowful. "Trampled underfoot" was mostly a metaphor, but now he truly had her under his feet. But now even he himself was caught in this absurd predicament; who was on top and who was on the bottom didn't really matter.
The shoes filled with water caused an extremely uncomfortable sensation. Her head wasn't large, and stepping on it made breathing slightly easier, but he remained completely immobile. He reached out and touched it; the surface was cold, covered in damp moss and overgrown grass—there was nowhere to put his grip. His shoulders were pressed against the well wall, making it impossible to use his hands for leverage.
With water, even without food, a person could survive for about twenty days. Within those twenty days, someone would eventually come. With help, getting out wouldn't be difficult. But now, he was a murderer with two lives on his hands; once released, he would likely still be sentenced to death. Only then did he begin to think about his predicament with some melancholy.
The wellhead was about five meters above his head. This wasn't an exaggerated distance, but those five meters felt like an insurmountable chasm.
The player clicked against his chest. It was flipping over; the other side was blank, only emitting a few hissing electrical sounds. This was his fifth failed attempt.
Due to improper exertion, he felt a tingling numbness all over his body, as if he were bound by seventeen or eighteen iron hoops. These five struggles had not loosened him at all; on the contrary, the more he struggled, the tighter he became in the well. He exhaled with difficulty and looked up at the sky again.
The round well opening was a little brighter than before. He seemed to have seen something ridiculous and suddenly chuckled.
This frenzied state would likely have lasted a long time if he hadn't fainted. When a person is agitated, their breathing becomes rapid. The air in the well is extremely polluted, and his lungs were being pushed against the well wall as they expanded, almost breaking his ribs.
When he woke up again, his face felt itchy. When he opened his eyes, he was dizzy from the bright sunlight, and a rumbling sound filled his ears, giving him the illusion of waking from a dream. But he immediately realized that he was still in the dry well, stuck tightly.
The sun was shining directly on him. The grass around the well was lush, and the leaves were dense, but the sunlight still shone through, landing on his face and making his skin itch slightly. The rumbling sound came from a construction site nearby. Unlike before, construction sites these days don't only operate during the day to avoid disturbing residents.
It must be noon now, he thought. With the light, he could finally see his situation clearly. The well was made of densely packed blue bricks, with some grass growing between them, but not a single brick was broken. Row upon row, it gave off a sense of oppression.
Elephants are like scales.
His hands touched the blue bricks; the moss growing on them was damp and rough against his fingertips, causing a slight stinging sensation. The moss was also very thick, making it difficult to apply any pressure to his fingers.
---Magpie Bridge Fairy
Reply [13]: He only felt hungry when he calmed down. He had been at the bottom of the well for more than ten hours, and during those ten hours, he had only drunk a few mouthfuls of watermelon juice at Zhou Baoqiang's house. Now, hunger was like a worm, clinging to his stomach, wriggling incessantly, and the more he thought about it, the more unbearable it became. The rumbling of the blenders echoed in his ears, and he even felt as if his ears were responding. When he was standing on the ground, he could not feel anything, but five meters below the surface, the slight vibrations on the ground were very obvious and unbearable. He opened his mouth, and several times he wanted to shout out, but he held back.
Zhou Baoqiang's body, decapitated and separated from his body, must be starting to decompose now. It's been over ten hours; the lividity should be fading by now. Imagining the bluish-purple patches on Zhou Baoqiang's body, a sudden surge of pleasure welled up within him.
My body has been stuck there for so long that I've gotten used to it. It's like getting a filling; newly made dentures always feel like something's in your mouth, but you get used to it after a few days. Being stuck in your body, while not as insignificant as a denture, still helps you get used to it over time.
It wasn't too hot, but the temperature was still...
It wasn't too hot, but the temperature was still a bit high. He remembered learning in physics class as a child that the temperature varied by one degree Celsius for every twenty meters, so the temperature five meters underground was probably higher than on the surface. However, the presence of some water below created a cool sensation. He shifted his feet to steady himself. As he moved, her head rolled around beneath his feet, almost causing him to slip. He wouldn't have actually fallen, but habit created an illusion, and the slip gave him the same disorientation as walking in the dark and suddenly missing a step.
The mixer was still roaring. In the past two years, real estate development had been rapid, with buildings popping up everywhere. The old wooden houses he had lived in more than twenty years ago had been demolished and were nowhere to be seen. The roads had been replaced by cheap, cracking cement instead of bluestone slabs. Perhaps, Zhou Baoqiang's small house with a yard would soon become a thing of the past.
He thought about these trivial things mainly to distract himself from the waves of hunger that kept washing over him. He had never felt this way before; he always thought he could eat when he was hungry. Now he truly knew what hunger felt like. It was like a serrated piece of iron, heavy and pressing down on his stomach, twitching and stinging, yet leaving him feeling so empty.
Once he got out, he was determined to have a good meal. He thought to himself that even if this "good meal" was nothing more than large chunks of meat, just a fleeting thought of it made him imagine biting into a juicy, fatty piece of meat, with dark red oil dripping from it. He felt as if he'd already bitten off a large chunk with the slightest movement of his teeth, and chewing felt almost effortless. This made his stomach churn even more violently, and acid reflux rose in his throat from time to time.
"Don't think about it," he told himself, but his imagination seemed completely beyond his control. He helplessly drifted from braised pork to stewed chicken, then to thinly sliced pork belly dipped in garlic and soy sauce, to fried tofu simmering in broth, and finally to raw tofu tossed with salted egg yolk and chili oil. This imagined feast made his stomach churn; he could feel the acid rising into his mouth. As he swallowed, a sharp pain lingered in his throat.
He'd been at the bottom of the well for about twelve hours. He'd arrived at Zhou Baoqiang's house around 11 PM last night, and hadn't checked his watch, but it was probably past midnight when he fell in. He didn't know the exact time now, but judging from the sunlight, it was roughly noon. Even if he went out now, the construction workers busy at work would likely become suspicious. His mind had calmed down, and he could now think things through rationally.
He was stuck tightly in the well, but since the well was wider at the top than at the bottom, getting out wouldn't be too difficult if someone above could help. However, relying solely on his own strength, those five meters seemed an insurmountable distance. His panicked and inappropriate struggle when he fell in had only made him more firmly stuck. He looked down, but could only see his clothes, which had been squeezed down to his shoulders.
Just like Gulliver in Gulliver's Travels, who was stuffed into a bone by a jester in the land of giants.
Although he knew his predicament, he couldn't help but smile bitterly, but he wasn't really panicked. The initial fear had passed; now he needed to think about how to escape unnoticed. Besides, it was so noisy outside that even if he shouted, no one would likely hear him.
He took a deep breath, shrinking his chest slightly, and then desperately tried to rise on his tiptoes. Although it was difficult, his body finally began to loosen, and he could feel a slight stinging pain as his lower back rubbed against the well wall. However, because he was holding his breath, he saw stars before his eyes, and his body felt as if it were being sucked in, creating immense resistance. Just as he managed to pull himself up a little, he couldn't hold his breath any longer, gasping for air, only to be sucked back in like a tightly packed cork.
It seemed he had packed it too tightly; the air at the bottom of the well created considerable resistance as he struggled to climb. But this gave him confidence; it was still possible if he climbed up slowly. After catching his breath, he began another attempt.
---Magpie Bridge Fairy
Reply [14]: This time, he exhaled as much air as possible from his lungs, pressed his hands against the well wall, and slowly lifted himself up. This time it was much more effective. His body writhed like a bloated worm. He could only move a short distance, but he could clearly feel himself rising, and his feet kept tiptoeing.
Suddenly, his foot slipped, and he slid off her head, sinking heavily. The well was too small, and there was nothing on the walls to hold onto; he mainly relied on the strength of his heels. However, his leather shoes, filled with water, became much heavier and slippery, and the spherical toes made them even harder to step on.
He cursed and began groping at the bottom of the well with his feet. This time, not only did his previous efforts go to waste, but he also sank even further. Fortunately, the bottom of the well was small, and the head couldn't roll very far. He rubbed his feet together, took off his shoes and socks, and used his bare feet to hook the head that was sinking to the bottom of the water.
Without shoes, although he knew his feet were soaking in a pool of foul-smelling, murky water, the coolness was still somewhat comforting. His toes touched a furry ball, hooked gently, and he stepped on it again. Just as he placed his foot on the head, he suddenly felt his right toe hit something hard, like blunt nails. It took him a moment to realize that his toes had entered her mouth. Her cheek muscles should have been stiff, but because they were submerged in water, the stiffness was brief. When he stepped on the head with only his toes, his toes had slipped into her mouth, and those hard, blunt objects were her teeth.
Imagining her plaster-like head opening its mouth to hold his toes, he couldn't help but shudder. There was always a strange sensation when his toes peeked out of her mouth, as if her mouth could still bite down, and the feeling from his toes was exactly like her biting. He knew it was only because some muscles in her cheeks remained strong, so her jaws were held together like a spring, giving him that feeling, but he still couldn't shake the image of her desperately biting his toes.
He stuck his toes out of her mouth and carefully nudged her head with his right foot. When he felt a sensation of stepping on burlap, he knew he was now stepping on the top of her head. He brought his feet together, carefully stepping on her, trying not to let his toes slip into her mouth again, and then slowly began to apply more pressure.
This time, since he was no longer wearing shoes, it was easier to exert force. His bent foot could then be placed perfectly against her scalp. Finally, he felt his body loosening, and the place where his body was pressed against the well wall made a soft "squeaking" sound.
That must be the air squeezing out from the gap beneath him. Just as I was thinking this, the sound of an iron gate rattling interrupted his efforts.
Zhou Baoqiang's house is surrounded by a wall, and the two large iron gates are usually closed. He's unmarried, and his parents have long since passed away, so no one else should have the key. So who is this person who has come?
He suddenly had a hallucination, as if the person who walked in was Zhou Baoqiang. The head he cut off with a knife last night was just a hallucination. Even the environment he was in now was a hallucination. Nothing had happened. Zhou Baoqiang was returning home after a night of debauchery, while he was lying in his bed at home, having a different dream with his wife.
He was almost convinced of his own idea when his head rolled again, making him sink once more. All his previous efforts were in vain, and he was stuck again. But he couldn't dwell on his frustration now; he just listened intently to the voice of the person who had entered.
If that's Zhou Baoqiang, then nothing will seem out of the ordinary.
Even then, he still thought so. But then, as if a large piece of glass had suddenly shattered, he heard a bloodcurdling scream. The scream shook the windows, and even the cement mixer on the construction site couldn't drown it out—"Someone's dead!"
It was the voice of a middle-aged man. The man screamed extremely pitifully, as if he himself were the one who had died, followed by the sound of someone stumbling and running away.
So, everything that happened last night was true? He looked up at the well opening; no more sunlight was streaming in. Through the grass and leaves, a round patch of sky appeared, and a breeze was blowing. The dark green moss on the well walls now looked black, thick and dark.
---Magpie Bridge Fairy
Reply [15]: Not long after, he heard the sound of police cars. Then came a great deal of footsteps.
Now, there must be dozens of people gathered in Zhou Baoqiang's courtyard. Among them are probably police officers, reporters, and onlookers. They must all be staring at that blood-stained room, and the reporters will be able to write a horrifying report.
The commotion continued for an unknown amount of time. He heard some people making guesses, some of which even seemed to him strangely. Strangely, he could hear their voices very clearly from down in the well. Their voices, whether rough or fine, high-pitched or low-pitched, were as if they were speaking to him face to face. Even those up above might not hear them as clearly as he did.
The commotion lasted for three or four hours. By the time the courtyard quieted down again, it was almost dark. There were probably two police officers still collecting evidence, rambling incoherently about the case. He no longer tried to climb up; he just listened listlessly.
Suddenly, his heart clenched.
Suddenly, a policeman mentioned his name!
They found a clue so quickly? He hadn't been paying attention to what the two policemen were saying at all, but now he was scrutinizing every single word they uttered.
The two policemen didn't say much, but he quickly compiled the clues that the police had.
The police discovered Zhou Baoqiang's diary!
It was quite unexpected that someone like Zhou Baoqiang would keep a diary. In the diary, Zhou Baoqiang described every relationship he had with her in great detail, even detailing the sensations of penetration during one instance; it was almost like reading an erotic novel. The two policemen must have been particularly interested in these things, but since Zhou Baoqiang hadn't revealed her name, they didn't know who she was.
However, Zhou Baoqiang wrote about him.
He felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him. The police didn't know who he was, but having his name, they would surely come to inquire. As for her body, he had simply wrapped it haphazardly in a sheet and stuffed it under the bed; once the police found his address, they would immediately know what had happened in his home.
He had only wanted to crawl out as soon as possible, but now he involuntarily shrank back, as if trying to shrink his entire body into the darkness. If he shouted now, the two policemen would surely pull him out, but what would follow? Trial, imprisonment, and even… the death penalty.
As he severed her head, it felt like a dream, while severing Zhou Baoqiang's head brought a sense of gratification. But the thought of a bullet hole appearing in his own head made him tremble uncontrollably. He also felt the head beneath his feet shaking; it wasn't that it had suddenly come back to life, but rather that his legs were trembling as well.
"I feel like the murderer is somewhere nearby."