Переселившиеся императрицы (мужчины и женщины) - Глава 4
It was just a tiny white dot that quickly disappeared from his sight. But because of the surrounding darkness, the white dot was particularly conspicuous, and he was certain it wasn't his imagination.
So what exactly is it?
---Magpie Bridge Fairy
Reply [20]: He desperately turned his head to the right. Due to the excessive force, his neck ached, and his head turned back extremely quickly like a tightly wound spring. In that brief moment, he saw a piece of clothing behind his right shoulder. The clothing was covered with more than a dozen thin, white thread-like things. Those things seemed to be moving, but the light was too dim to see what they were. With this movement, a white dot flew out and landed on his right arm. He brought his head closer and looked at it carefully.
Maggots! Those are maggots! They're tiny, pointed-tailed maggots!
He felt a sudden chill run through him. Maggots are disgusting enough, but these maggots were... crawling out of his ear!
This must be that fly. The fat fly was in its egg-laying period, and he remembered seeing maggots wriggling from the broken belly of the fly when he killed it before. The fly died in his right ear canal, but the maggots inside had crawled out because of the warm and humid environment.
So, what's crawling on his back now are maggots?
He felt nauseous. But his stomach was empty; even the moss had been mostly digested. If he vomited, it would only be a little acidic. Since it was digested so thoroughly, perhaps the waste had already dried and hardened in his large intestine. He tried desperately to move his body, but he was too weak; his body only trembled. Such movements did nothing to relieve the itching on his back; instead, they made it even more unbearable.
How many days has he been unconscious this time? Perhaps three or four days, due to suffocation and hunger. During those three or four days, the maggots grew from the size of a pinhead to the size of a thread, and began to crawl again. Perhaps these tiny insects have found a paradise on his body.
He opened his mouth wide and cried out. Then, as he expected, the sound was as soft as an insect's chirp. And then, he suddenly realized he had lost all feeling for his feet.
His feet were gone? He moved slightly, feeling some muscle tension in his legs, but he had no feeling below the knees. Perhaps he was still standing on her head, but his shoulders were now gripped even tighter, and he was probably dangling in the air, yet he didn't feel any dangling, nor did he feel any ground beneath him.
His feet were soaking in this stinking water; perhaps they were already necrotic? He suddenly realized that the maggots crawling down meant his feet were rotting.
As if to confirm his thoughts, a slight itch spread across his waist, crawled to the inside of his thigh, and then suddenly disappeared. But only the sensation disappeared; he knew the tiny maggot was still crawling, crawling on his grayish-brown calf. His calf was probably swollen and smelly like a waterlogged bun, the skin so swollen that it was broken open, oozing yellowish-white pus. As soon as the maggot reached his calf, it immediately burrowed its head inside. The tiny, soft head pierced through his skin, which was already like rotten cloth, with incredible sharpness, and then burrowed into the muscle that had turned into threads, half of its body still sticking out, writhing like a thread, like an earthworm burrowing into the soil… “…It’s all rotting away…” This eerie phrase seemed to suddenly reappear in his left ear. Faint, yet foul. He could no longer bear it, struggling and roaring desperately. However, no matter how much he struggled, he was just like a little mouse caught in a trap, at most wiggling weakly.
---Magpie Bridge Fairy
Reply [21]: When he woke up again, he was not surprised to find that he could see his right cheek. This was not from the corner of his eye, but he could see it clearly with just a glance down. His right cheek was swollen almost like a tumor, with many small holes on it, like a showerhead. These could be holes made by maggots, or they could be pores that had been stretched. Because his right cheek was so swollen, he could not keep his head balanced and could only lean to the right. Occasionally, a small insect with a bright brown shell would crawl out of a small hole, spread its wings and fly up on the tip of his nose, and then aimlessly bump against the well wall, while grayish-white woodlice would quickly crawl past the corner of his eye and burrow into his hair.
His senses were now limited to his waist and above. Like a prisoner described in ancient books, cut in half at the waist, he looked around at this cylindrical world, less than a meter in diameter, with only half his body visible. Only now did he realize that this tiny space could house so many creatures; there was even a gecko clinging to the well wall, wriggling and chasing an insect. In this noisy world, he seemed to hear countless voices cheering and shouting incessantly.
Everything is rotting away.
He forced a smile. There was no pain. Perhaps the pain had lasted too long to create an excitation point in his brain, so he couldn't feel it anymore. As he smiled with difficulty, a few insects fell from his cheeks. He suddenly realized that his mouth had become a paradise for insects. Six-legged or dozens-legged crawling or wriggling insects were crammed into his mouth like a ball, to the point that he thought opening his mouth would cause a swarm of insects to spew out like a monster in a horror movie.
Outside, the rumbling sound continued, like distant thunder. He rolled his eyes and leaned back weakly. Then, as his head rested on his arm, he noticed that his already moldy clothes had suddenly split open like an erupting volcano, and countless shiny, white insects poured out of the tear.
Under his clothes, he saw his mangled arm.
His skin bulged, forming a lump on his upper arm. Because of his rare movement, the lump was wriggling, like bubbles rising from a pot of boiling glue. Unlike bubbles in boiling water that swirl and disappear, it kept changing and growing larger. Suddenly, it burst open from the top of the lump, and countless white maggots gushed out like erupting lava, covering his entire arm.
Everything is rotting away.
He thought to himself, perhaps countless maggots were crawling inside his skull, like a piece of rotten, worm-infested tofu, the maggots with their thin tails drilling countless tiny holes, only to be blocked by the hard skull. Suddenly, his vision was bright. This sudden burst of light stung his eyes. He tried to lift his head, but it tilted backward like a ball, only stopping when the back of his head hit the well wall. If there hadn't been an obstruction behind him, perhaps this tilt would have caused his head to fall off like a ripe apple.
At the wellhead, a blinding white light shone, from which a beam of light pierced his skull like a white pillar. It was so bright that tears welled up in his eyes, from which little of his optic nerve remained. But those tears were no longer tears; they were pus.
In the winding alley, the walls on both sides were old, the plaster peeling off to reveal the bricks and mud underneath. Sparse grass grew on the tops of the walls, its green so vibrant in the rain it seemed ready to melt away. Sap flowed from the tender leaf sheaths, filling the air with the scent of fresh grass.
Raindrops hit the wall, leaving a dark watermark, which was quickly absorbed by the mud. He walked beside her, holding an umbrella.
---Magpie Bridge Fairy
Reply [22]: The night is long, as long as a dream.
If this is a dream, it must be a dream that looks like night.
He looked up, bewildered. Under the umbrella, the streetlights cast a dim, yellowish glow, making the raindrops glisten like a beaded curtain, fluttering in the wind. On the umbrella, the patter of rain sounded like a gentle whisper. If it were a sentence, it must have been murmured by a woman experiencing love for the first time, whispering to the lamplight in the dead of night.
He held her hand. Her hand was slender and soft, and perhaps because of her timidity, it was a little cold, giving him an urge to protect it. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She looked up and silently watched the raindrops falling in his hand, so delicate and fragile that they seemed to dissipate even with her breath.
"I love you," she murmured, closing her eyes.
"I love you too," he said with a smile, as if promising it for a lifetime.
A worker flipped over a precast concrete slab and suddenly exclaimed, "Come on, there's another well here!"
It has been thirteen days since the fire. Although a decapitation murder occurred on this site thirteen days ago and remains unsolved with the suspect at large, this has not prevented real estate developers from recognizing the commercial value of the land.
After the worker flipped over the broken precast slab, another worker, who was hoping to find something valuable among the bricks and tiles, came over and said, "Is there a well? Let's see, maybe some gold artifact has fallen in?"
The worker in front looked inside and said, "It's too dark. Do you have a flashlight?"
"I'll go get it. But let's make it clear first, if I find anything, we'll split it equally."
The flashlight was brought. The worker lit it and shone it inside, laughing, "Of course. It's pitch black in this well; who knows, there might really be something valuable inside."
He looked inside.
(End of article)