emblème du lys

Chapitre 8

It wasn't until I accidentally discovered it that I realized how serious the problem was.

That night I went to her dorm to find her, but she wasn't there. The door was ajar, and I sat on the sofa waiting for her. Getting impatient, I stood up and started looking through her desk, trying to find a magazine to pass the time. There weren't any good ones, so I picked up an old newspaper. By accident, a piece of paper fell out from the stack and landed on the floor. It was an old, yellowed piece of paper, and my nerves tightened instantly. I felt like I'd seen this piece of paper somewhere before.

I picked up the paper and turned it over, my eyes widening in horror. It turned out to be the volunteer form of the woman I had dissected a year ago. I had signed it before the body was transferred to the autopsy room.

Yes! My signature is still there, so how did it end up here?

I panicked and hurriedly opened the old newspaper. In the "Social Perspectives" section, there was a news article titled "White-Collar Woman Commits Suicide for Love," dated the very day I had performed the autopsy. I felt as if I had fallen into an ice cellar, chills running down my spine, and the room suddenly felt eerily sinister.

Just then, I heard clear footsteps coming from the corridor. It was the sound of high heels, walking towards me step by step. I didn't know what to do, so I could only bite the bullet and wait for her to appear.

The footsteps stopped abruptly at the door. I didn't see anyone, but I felt as if she was standing there staring at me. My legs went weak, but I didn't dare to move. After a while, the sound of high heels started again, growing fainter and fainter until it finally disappeared.

I ran home like a madman and spent several hours calming down. My mind raced. How could this be? Maybe she was just that girl's classmate, colleague, or even a good friend. In that case, it wouldn't be strange for her to keep these things. Also, maybe those footsteps were just coming from downstairs. I was just being too paranoid.

I felt a little more at ease, so I called her on my cell phone, hoping to get to the bottom of things.

No one answered the phone. I kept calling, but it just kept ringing.

The more she didn't answer, the more terrified I became.

A moment later, footsteps suddenly came from outside the door, exactly the same as the ones I had heard from her—the crisp sound of high heels on the concrete floor. My heart pounded, and I dared not breathe.

---Cute Pink Little Pig

Reply [37]: Knock! Knock! Knock! "Someone is knocking on the door."

It really was her! She came to find me! After hesitating for a long time, I finally convinced myself to open the door.

"It's you!" I said, my throat feeling a little dry.

“It’s me,” she said.

“I went to look for you last night, but you weren’t there,” I said, taking a few steps back.

“I went out to run some errands! When I came back, I found you had been here,” she said.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you keep calling my cell phone?" she said.

“I…I’m afraid something will happen to you,” I said.

She smiled and said, "How about I stay here tonight?"

I wanted her to leave, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. We'd known each other for so long, and she'd never let me touch her body. I thought maybe I was just being paranoid; her appearance bore no resemblance to that girl, so how could they be related?

"I'm going to take a shower first!" she said, walking towards the bathroom.

"Okay!" I stepped aside.

I sat in the living room, listening to the sound of water flushing inside. I felt uneasy, but I kept telling myself not to think about those strange things, maybe it was just a coincidence.

She came out in her pajamas and sat on the sofa opposite me.

We remained silent.

"Let me give you a massage." She smiled and walked behind me, kneading my shoulders.

"Do you think the corpse feels pain when the scalpel cuts through it?" she suddenly asked.

I jumped up from the sofa and shouted, "Who, who are you?"

But when I felt a sharp pain in my neck, like being hit by a heavy object, I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I had a splitting headache and found that my hands and feet were tied to the bed.

I saw her standing in front of the bed, looking at me angrily. That look in her eyes! I remembered, that look was exactly the same as that of the female corpse!

"You...you are..." I was overcome with fear, but struggling was futile.

I noticed her face was changing, slowly changing; her eyes, nose, and mouth were all shifting. A moment later, a terrifying face appeared before me—it was her!! The female corpse from a year ago!

"Do you think the corpse feels pain when the scalpel cuts through it?" she asked me sharply again.

"Maybe...maybe!" I said, my voice trembling.

She slowly unbuttoned her pajamas, and I had never felt so disgusted. Her body, from the nape of her neck down, was just an empty shell, with no internal organs left, revealing a reddish body cavity.

"Tell me, does it hurt?" she said angrily.

“But you did it voluntarily!” I shouted.

“I regret trying to kill myself for that man, but just when I was about to leave this filthy world, you woke me up again! I want you to stay with me forever!” she said.

"What...what do you want to do?" I asked in terror.

She gave a stiff laugh, took a gleaming scalpel from her pajama pocket, waved it in front of me, and then pressed it against the back of my neck.

"I'll make you understand the pain of being dissected!" she said ominously.

"No! No! You're dead, I'm alive!" I shouted.

A sharp pain shot through my throat, and I felt as if I were being skinned alive. I screamed and sat up.

I found myself drenched in sweat as if I had been soaked in water. Moonlight shone through the window onto me, but she wasn't in the room. Had I been dreaming all night?