The 19th level of Hell

Chapter 38

"Because I also received a text message from the 18th level of hell, and the hellish text message took me to that academy. In the dark night with snow falling all around, I walked through the empty campus and finally came to the swimming pool, only to see you in the icy water. I immediately jumped into the water to save you and brought you back."

Chunyu understood. But she still had one question: "Did you see that man by the swimming pool yesterday?"

Which man?

“A tall, ugly middle-aged man, who smelled strange, came up to me and made me fall into the water.”

"No, I didn't see anyone else. I only saw you standing by the pool, staring blankly ahead. Then you took a step back in terror and fell into the water."

Chunyu's eyes widened: "You mean that man doesn't exist at all?"

"Of course it doesn't exist."

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and said, "Could it just be my imagination?"

Gao Xuan gently stroked her hair and said, "Stop overthinking. Maybe those things you're imagining don't exist?"

Chunyu closed her eyes and thought for a while. She recalled the fantasy in her mind at that time—did she kill her stepfather in the summer when she was fifteen?

Zaimura began to tremble, and the memories grew clearer. No, she didn't remember such a night; her memory didn't contain so much blood, nor such a sharp knife.

Suddenly, she remembered that night when the night-blooming jasmine was in full bloom; her stepfather hadn't come home all night. He was nowhere to be seen the next day, and she never heard from him again. She and her mother returned to their peaceful life, and the man never bothered them again.

The year Chunyu entered university, her mother was diagnosed with cancer. In her final moments, she finally told Chunyu that her stepfather hadn't disappeared that year; he had an affair, eloped with her, and later settled abroad, never to return. Soon after, her mother passed away.

Yes, she didn't kill her stepfather; he left home on his own.

That night of murder existed only in Chunyu's imagination.

Now, she has overcome that illusion.

Spring Rain finally breathed a sigh of relief; the nightmare that had plagued her for so many years should finally be over.

So if that's the case, then seeing your father who died many years ago on the subway or your stepfather's shadow on campus is all just your own hallucination and delusion, probably caused by some kind of hellish game.

She reopened her eyes, looked at Gao Xuan, and said, "Thank you for reminding me of my real memories."

"Your memories are real; they are just delusions created by fear."

What time is it now?

“You’ve slept for over ten hours, and it’s afternoon now. Are you hungry? I’ll go out and buy you something to eat. Wait for me to come back.” Gao Xuan patted her shoulder and then walked out of the room.

She lay quietly for a while longer before finally getting out of bed. Although she was still a little cold, she drew back the curtains, the glare from the snow outside making it almost impossible for her to open her eyes.

The snow was still falling, and the Suzhou River flowed quietly beneath the window. Countless snowflakes drifted onto the river's surface, only to be quickly swallowed by the water. There were few people on the road along the riverbank, only cars constantly passing over the iron bridge in the distance. On the other side, there was another row of old-style buildings, which were then blocked by several tall buildings.

Snowflakes danced in the hospital. Xu Wenya looked out the window at the air conditioner. Her hair was neatly combed and fell naturally over her shoulders, making her look like a docile lamb.

Ye Xiao and Dr. Wen stood at the door of the ward. They nodded to each other and quietly left the room. In the long corridor outside, Ye Xiao said softly, "You called me here just to see this?"

"No, I've made a new discovery, and I think I must tell you."

"Wait a minute, I need to tell you something first—Chunyu has gone missing."

She's missing?

"I've been looking for her all day, and I can't get through to her on the phone. I went to the school to look for her this morning, and her classmates said she didn't return to her dorm all night, and they don't know where she went." Ye Xiao walked to the other end of the corridor by himself. "Do you think she might have relapsed?"

After pondering for a long time, Dr. Wen said, "Although the relapse rate of this disease is very high, based on my understanding of Chunyu, I think it's unlikely. When she left here half a year ago, I did an in-depth analysis of her psychology. Although she always had some shadow deep in her heart and was unwilling to tell others, she had a strong sense of self-control and was not the kind of person who was emotionally fragile."

"Okay, I hope I'm just worrying unnecessarily. What else have you discovered about Xu Wenya?"

"As you already know, I've been using a 'fight fire with fire' approach, treating her manic episodes via text messages. The main goal is to build her confidence in communicating with people while overcoming her fears. I delved into her inner world and discovered that when she played the 'Hell Game,' various voices would constantly appear in her head, as if someone were actually speaking to her in her ear. Even after arriving at the hospital, she still frequently had this feeling and referred to the person speaking to her as a monkey."

Ye Xiao said impatiently, "What does this prove? Didn't you say last time that it was a psychological trauma?"

"Yes, we all have psychological shadows, but some people encounter special triggers—if our psychological shadows are demons, and these demons have been locked in a safe, now someone has given you a key, forcing you to release those demons, do you understand?"

"Could you explain that more clearly?"

"Okay, to put it simply, the key to unlocking Xu Wenya's heart is—psychological control."

"Psychological control?"

"Yes. There are many means to achieve psychological control, the most common being suggestion and hypnosis." Dr. Wen walked to the end of the corridor, looking at the snowflakes outside the window, and said, "Suggestion—is when people, for a certain purpose, use language, gestures, expressions, actions, or symbols to convey certain information in a subtle and insightful way, causing others to accept the indicated viewpoint or opinion, and act in the indicated manner. Generally, the one who initiates the suggestion is active and conscious, while the one who is influenced is passive. In the darkest and most frightening environments, people are more easily influenced by suggestion."

Ye Xiao gasped and said, "You mean Xu Wenya received some kind of suggestion? And who gave that suggestion?"

"Of course it's hellish text messages. From the first level of hell to the nineteenth level, the whole process is a process of suggestion. In fact, any information that the human brain receives can become a kind of suggestion, and text messages are certainly a kind of information. My communication with Xu Wenya through text messages is actually a kind of suggestion therapy. I found that the hellish game she was playing had a very strong psychological suggestion effect."

"I understand. What about hypnosis?"

At that moment, Ye Xiao thought of a Japanese horror film called "Hypnosis".

"Suggestion is ubiquitous in our lives, and mostly occurs unconsciously. Hypnosis, which requires special methods to induce a dream-like state, can also be seen as a special form of suggestion."

"Is hypnosis the only special method?"

"What do you think hypnosis is? Is it those things that use a small pendulum clock or witchcraft-like rituals? No, there are many methods of hypnosis, and it doesn't necessarily have to be done face-to-face."

"So, hypnosis can be done via text message?"

Dr. Wen was silent for a moment before saying, "There have never been any reports or such forces before, but I think Xu Wenya is very likely the world's first case of being hypnotized by text messages and developing schizophrenia."

Hearing this shocking deduction, Ye Xiao was startled: "If that's true, then the first person in the world to be hypnotized by a cell phone should be Su Lan; and the first person in the world to commit suicide because of it should be Qing You."

"At present, I am not very clear about the details of hypnosis through mobile phone text messages. But this text message game with a powerful hypnotic effect must be carefully designed, otherwise it would be impossible to turn a normal person into a schizophrenic."

At this point, Ye Xiao was speechless, because he knew perfectly well what the Hell Game was like. Dr. Wen's prediction was correct; it was definitely meticulously planned.

Dr. Wen continued, "Hypnosis is generally divided into three levels: light hypnosis, moderate hypnosis, and 'sleepwalking.' When Xu Wenya first started playing the Hell Game, she experienced light hypnosis. At that time, she didn't feel fear but rather found it very interesting. However, by this point, she had already accepted suggestion and developed a strong dependence on the Hell Text Messages, requiring her to continuously enter the next level of Hell. Then came moderate hypnosis, at which point she was no longer able to leave the Hell Text Messages, experiencing more and more hallucinations and delusions. Finally, there's the highest level of hypnosis—the 'sleepwalking' stage. When she entered the Hell Game, she was actually in a state similar to an ally; her consciousness was completely controlled by the text messages, and she deeply believed in the scenarios she imagined. The final result was schizophrenia, forever trapped in the deeply hypnotized 'sleepwalking' stage."

Hearing this, Ye Xiao's hair stood on end. Only now did he realize that when he was wandering through the hellish game, he had been subjected to light and moderate hypnosis. This was somewhat similar to the virtual experiences in future video games, where electrodes are inserted into the brain, allowing the computer to communicate directly with the human brain, making you feel as if you are actually in a certain environment while playing the game. In reality, it was just a combination of stimuli from the computer that created a virtual hallucination.

He thought back to the early hours of yesterday morning, when he had many hallucinations in the game, as if he really saw Xue'er, and even had strong delusions of shooting drug dealers. This was probably the most terrifying "dreamwalking" stage. If he hadn't smashed his phone then, the result would probably have been a split personality, or like Qingyou and Sulan. Thinking it made perfect sense, he blurted out, "Then could he commit suicide because of 'dreamwalking'?"

"It's entirely possible. When your mind is filled with terrifying delusions and you're completely controlled by hellish text messages, you're capable of doing anything, including suicide."

"I don't know either, but this person is definitely a genius, possessing extensive knowledge of psychology and being proficient in computer programming and game development. And most importantly—this person is absolutely insane!"

The sparrows flew away, and snow continued to fall from the sky. An oil tanker braved the swirling snowflakes as it sailed along the winding Suzhou Creek. All of this scene before me resembled a painting by Gauguin.

Chunyu left the window and slowly walked out of the small room. Outside was a very large living room, furnished with various European classical furniture. The house was decorated in a European classical style, and even the paint on the walls looked like the Palace of Versailles seen on television. The building itself was built in the 1930s, so everything in Gao Xuan's room seemed to have transported him to 19th-century Europe.

The room was filled with oil paintings, all in the classical style of the 19th century. I wonder if Gao Xuan painted them himself. These paintings made the room look more like a palace. The paintings depicted many European faces facing Chunyu, their eyes and expressions so peculiar, as if they had come alive in this room.

Suddenly, Chunyu made an unexpected discovery: in the lower right corner of all these oil paintings, the Arabic numeral '19' was written in pencil.

These numbers appear to be the artist's signature, placed in a very inconspicuous position within the paintings, almost invisible without close inspection. Why would anyone write "19" in the signature area of all their oil paintings? But the next discovery is even more astonishing: the number "19" is also inlaid on all the furniture. For example, a European-style wardrobe has a gold "19" inlaid on its door handle, a gold "19" inlaid under the armrest on the side of the sofa, and a gold "19" in the corner of the writing desk.

All the 19s on the furniture have a certain decorative function, like the lettering of English, with gilded iron strips inlaid on the furniture surface.

Filled with doubt about 19, Chunyu slowly entered another room, which should be Gao Xuan's bedroom. The room was lavishly decorated, almost like a noble's room in a European castle. What was even stranger was that the room had no windows; it was a completely enclosed, dark room, lit only by the bedside lamp.

On the wall opposite the large bed in the bedroom, there was a huge oil painting. Chunyu immediately recognized the person in the painting—Mazzolini.

Yes, she had seen Mazzolini's photographs, the European man in the oil paintings. His gaze was deep and fixed ahead, and those white eyes really did resemble those of a high-class man.

Why did Gao Xuan place a portrait of Mazzolini facing his bed?

Suddenly, she felt that Mazzolini's eyes in the painting were still looking at something. Following the imagined gaze of Mazzolini, she looked back and found herself facing a large wardrobe. The wardrobe was over two meters tall, with a full-length mirror on the door. The portrait of Mazzolini on the opposite wall was reflected in the mirror.

Chunyu felt a little strange. She slowly walked to the large closet and looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a white long dress with thick clothes underneath. Because the air conditioning in the room was on full blast, she didn't feel very cold.

Her long, black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes, though not wide open, held a slight blue tint. Her complexion, however, was excessively pale, giving her an ethereal, otherworldly appearance. She gently stroked her face, suddenly feeling a distortion in her features—

Strangely, she stared intently at the mirror, as if something was hidden behind it, and seemed to hear some faint whispers.

Who is talking to me?

Chunyu nervously looked around, but there was no one else or any sound. Her gaze then fell on Mazzolini's portrait. Was he talking to her?

No, Mazzolini was staring at the mirror.

Suddenly, a strange impulse welled up in Chunyu's heart. She didn't know what was hidden behind the mirror, but she had to open it and take a look.

She opened the large closet.

The large closet was empty; instead, it contained a small, hidden door.

Chunyu suddenly became excited; she now understood why Mazzolini had been staring at the mirror. She gently reached out and pushed open the door, discovering a hidden room inside.

Holding her breath, she carefully stepped into the large closet and entered the secret, dark room.

The room was completely dark, and Chunyu fumbled around on the wall for a while before finally finding the light switch. It was a room of about 20 square meters, without windows or furniture; in fact, the room was practically empty except for an oil painting hanging on the wall. The painting almost completely covered one wall. It was 10 meters long and over 2 meters high, and in the dark room, it looked more like a mural from a cave.

Spring Rain started by looking at the painting. It was a European classical style painting, very realistic in both color and line. However, the background of the painting was very dark, seemingly a vast black forest or some underground mountain.

The scene begins with a goat woman being held captive by two monstrous figures, who are pulling out her tongue with iron clamps.

"Tongue-Pulling Hell!"

She couldn't help but scream. Indeed, the image closely resembled the murals seen in ancient caves; it was the first one in "The Nineteen Levels of Hell," and also the first level of hell.

Chunyu suppressed her nervousness and looked at the images one by one from left to right. All the images below were arranged in the same way, following the order of hell, from the top nine levels to the bottom nine levels, showing the scene of each level of hell.

Although the painting "Nineteen Levels of Hell" in the Tiancang Mountain cave uses Chinese flower painting techniques, the painting in front of us is entirely in the style of Western painting. However, the figures and composition are quite similar, making it a kind of sunset version of Chinese painting.

If there's any difference, it's that the oil painting's effect is more terrifying, with a stronger visual impact and shock; towards the end, it even gave me a feeling of nausea. Luckily, Chunyu hadn't eaten anything today, or she would have vomited long ago.

Looking at the terrifying oil painting before her, she counted from the first level of hell on the left to the eighteenth. Her heart pounded faster and faster, and she felt that chilling sensation she only experienced under the pool, because the final answer was about to be revealed.

Do you know what the nineteenth level of hell is?

Now, Spring Rain has seen the 19th level of hell.

At the far right of this enormous oil painting, a man and a woman are embracing passionately. The man is a European in his thirties with deep, bright eyes, wearing a robe typical of medieval European nobility. Chunyu immediately recognized him—Mazzolini! The man in the painting is Mazzolini!

The woman in the painting was Chinese, only about 20 years old. She wore a long white dress, and her long, black hair cascaded down her shoulders. But what surprised Chunyu even more was how much the girl in the painting resembled her. Especially her fair face, slender neck, and melancholy eyes. And the white dress Chunyu was wearing now was exactly the same as the one in the painting.

Chunyu took a step back in fear, as if facing a mirror, looking at the woman in the 19th level of hell—the same long, flowing hair, the same white dress, the same face, the same eyes. It was as if the painter had used Chunyu as a model to paint this picture before her.

She stared blankly at the painting of herself—her arms were wrapped around Mazzolini, and the two of them gazed at each other tenderly. They were clearly the most intimate lovers, seemingly having gone through countless hardships and never to be separated.

No, Chunyu suddenly had a different feeling; in Mazzolini's extension, there seemed to be some kind of evil.

Good heavens, she then discovered Mazzolini's true nature; he possessed a devilish evil that completely controlled the girl before her, making her fall deeply in love with him.

Suddenly, that fatal question echoed in my ears again—

Do you know what the 19th level of hell is?

At this moment, Chunyu already knew the answer: the 19th level of hell = falling in love with the devil.

Then she sat down on the floor as if she had collapsed, muttering, "When you enter the 19th level of hell, you will fall in love with the evil devil."

Suddenly, a deep voice came from behind: "You've finally discovered the final secret."