Mo Yi narrowed his eyes slightly, his dark pupils stared thoughtfully at the marks on the door that had been knocked open, and then exerted a little force with his palm.
The door opened silently to the inside, and the gloomy darkness poured out from the slowly opening door.
He shone the flashlight in his hand towards the door, and the pale beam of light pierced through the dark, dusty room, revealing a vague silhouette.
There was silence in the corridors and rooms.
Mo Yi held his breath slightly, and subconsciously tightened his fingers holding the flashlight, then took a step and walked towards the door.
As the steps deepened, those blurred outlines were slowly and clearly revealed under the light.
Mo Yi moved his wrist slowly, his eyes wandered slowly around the room following the movement of the beam of the flashlight, the more he looked, the more startled he became—
This room... looks like an execution chamber.
The surrounding cold walls framed a small and closed space. There were no windows or wallpaper on the bare walls, revealing a dirty iron-gray wall stained with large dark brown spots that seemed to be dried blood.
There are all kinds of strange-shaped iron utensils piled up scatteredly on the walls and on the ground, with reddish-brown rust marks and dark brown blood stains on the sharp edges, which makes people unwilling to think about their uses and methods of use.
The room was filled with a strange smell that could not be ignored. It seemed to be the stale smell of blood that had been sealed for a long time mixed with the pungent smell of strong disinfectant.
Mo Yi frowned and looked around the room. He raised his wrist and shone the light in his hand to the end of the room, only to see that there seemed to be a door in the darkness.
He walked carefully among the iron instruments of torture piled up on the ground, and slowly walked to the door deep in the room.
The door was still half-closed, Mo Yi shook the flashlight on the ground, and a bright beam of light flashed across the ground—there were brand new traces on the dust accumulated on the ground, and this door should have been opened not long ago. was opened.
Mo Yi took a deep breath, then pushed the door slowly with a little force with his fingertips.
A bloody smell so thick that it almost condensed into a solid body rushed to the face in an instant. It was an astonishing, strong rusty smell that could almost cause everyone's rational discomfort, as if a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood were hidden in this door. Afterwards generally.
Mo Yi coughed a few times, forced to suppress the discomfort in his stomach, then frowned, and looked at the door intently.
In the darkness, there were countless pale limbs winding up and down, reflecting pale light in the thick and deep shadows,
Semi-coagulated blood flowed between the overlapping limbs, and the deep dark red liquid traveled between the pale limbs and blurred facial features. The sharp color contrast almost hurt Mo Yi's eyes.
In the room are piles of mutilated corpses, with overlapping heads and feet, mutilated limbs scattered in a mess, and bright red rolled muscle structures and white bones exposed at the blood loss wounds, which look like a sickly and distorted oil painting.
Mo Yi frowned tightly, the strong smell of blood and despair in the room almost made him unable to breathe.
He covered his mouth and nose with his hands, his face was pale and solemn, his eyes fell on the pile of corpses for half a second, and then slowly moved away.
The light of the flashlight moved slowly in the room.
Mo Yi quickly discovered some signs of incongruity in the room—some of the corpses had obviously been turned over, broken and mutilated limbs were thrown aside, and there were some vaguely overlapping footprints in the pool of blood on the ground.
He took a few steps forward, and felt the sticky touch of half-clotted blood under his feet, which sounded extraordinarily loud in the dark and closed room. He changed his angle and looked inside the separated pile of corpses.
In a pool of blood, an incomplete cabinet was half down on the ground. Snow-white pieces of paper poured out of the cabinet, scattered in the dark red viscous blood, and the dark blood stained the edges of the paper. Smudges out irregular, light contours.
It looked as if it had been messily turned over.
Mo Yi took a few steps forward, picked up the nearest piece of paper from the ground, and swept it hastily under the light of the flashlight.
It was a medical record, most of the writing on it was stained into a blurred mass by the dark red blood on the ground, and the specific appearance could not be discerned. Mo Yi moved his fingers slightly, and the patient's name at the top of the page was revealed.
It was a familiar name: Edwin Carter.
Mo Yi was slightly taken aback, raised his legs to avoid the dead bodies lying on the ground, walked a few steps inward, and then picked up another piece of paper on the broken cabinet.
It was much older than the one just now, its edges were dark yellow, and there were scattered mildew spots in the middle of the bloodstains.
What caught Mo Yi's attention was a few fuzzy blood fingerprints on the side of the paper—it seemed that they had just been printed on it.
The thicker stench of blood and the damp smell of corpses lingered at the end of his nose. Mo Yi frowned, barely avoiding the lifeless pale wrist and the bluish white and purple stiff fingers, and then looked down at the blood in his hand. that piece of paper.
This is still a medical record.
The handwriting on it is blurred due to the age, and it is difficult to read under the light—
This seems to be a confirmed medical record. The specific type of mental illness and patient information can no longer be seen, only the doctor's signature at the bottom of the page—Edwin Carter.
Mo Yi frowned slowly, and subconsciously rubbed the rough paper with his fingertips, his lips were slightly tight.
Before Edwin was diagnosed with split personality, he used to be a psychiatrist, which can explain why those inhumane methods of treating mental illness appeared in the negative third floor, but what about the other two floors? Especially this torture chamber on this floor...
He sideways avoided half of the outstretched pale sole, and then continued to reach inward, toward another piece of paper lying on the ground.
At this moment, Mo Yi's movements suddenly stopped, and he seemed to catch some vague voice in his ears——
It seems to be crackling and cracking, and it seems to be the sound of peeling off the wall.
It seems that dust has fallen on the face, which is a little itchy.
Mo Yi raised his head subconsciously, but suddenly met a pair of light blue, cloudy and lifeless eyes. The bloodshot eye sockets were wide open, and half of the eyeball almost rolled out of the eye socket. Mo Yi could almost see the brightly colored eyes. optic nerve.
There was a fine layer of cold sweat on his back, and before he could do anything, the dead pale hand on the road just passed grabbed the corner of his clothes.
The whole pile of corpses seemed to start to squirm slowly.
The mutilated limbs overlapping one after another moved and struggled as if regaining life, making creepy sounds of limbs rubbing and bones colliding in the darkness.
Mo Yi was terrified, he reacted instantly, and retreated out of the pile of corpses.
The pale limbs protruding slantingly stretched out hands exuding the breath of death and decay towards him, and grabbed his wrists and ankles forcefully, trying to make him sink forever in the dirty bloody corpse.
Mo Yi struggled desperately, his heart beating like a drum in his chest, almost jumping out of his throat.
At this moment, he seemed to have stepped on a severed limb in a pool of blood, and suddenly slipped, his body became unstable, and he fell backwards.
Feeling dizzy for a while, Mo Yi gritted his teeth and rolled to the outside of the pile of corpses while taking advantage of the force of falling down!
With this momentum, he actually broke through the siege and interception of those limbs, and hit the side wall in disgrace.
Mo Yi supported the wall beside him with his palms and climbed up. His body was covered with dust and blood. He turned his head and glanced at the pile of corpses behind him.
Under the flickering light of the flashlight, the pale limbs squirmed in the darkness, and then struggled to move towards him.
Mo Yi's heart skipped a beat, he turned around and opened the half-open door behind him and rushed out, then turned around and slammed the door shut, shutting behind the door the strong smell of blood from the broken limbs that filled the room.
The smell of blood in the air became lighter again, and the stale smell of dust took over again.
Mo Yi stretched out his hand and firmly pressed the trembling door panel, his chest heaved rapidly, and the cold sweat behind him stuck his shirt to his back, bringing a gloomy coolness. He took a stick-shaped iron tool and stuck it on the door as a latch.
Then he let go of his hands and took a few steps back slowly while panting.
Although the door panel was still trembling, it was obviously much more stable, and it was estimated that it would not be knocked open for a while.
Mo Yi moved his wrist and let out a slight "hiss". He looked down and saw a deep bright red handprint on his thin and pale wrist, with a shocking cyan on the edge. .
It seemed that during the struggle just now, the palm of one of the corpses grabbed it.
He took a deep breath, shook his hand indifferently, and then used the flashlight to shine one last time on the door he was stuck on.
The door stood silently in the darkness, no longer moving.
Mo Yi touched the deep marks on his wrist with some regrets—it’s a pity that he didn’t see the content on the innermost piece of paper just now, he always felt that it was the key clue in this copy, and it could complete this A piece of the jigsaw puzzle.
But... why did those corpses suddenly start to move
And that strange noise before moving...
Mo Yi frowned slowly, and then stared at the room he was in. For some reason... He always felt that something was different in this room.
He pursed his lips, a guess welling up in his heart.
Mo Yi strode towards the outside of the house. Just as he opened the door, the scene in the corridor made him slightly startled.
—The corridor has almost changed drastically. The dark green wallpaper plastered all over the corridor has become old and dirty. Cracks like spider webs spread along the corners of the wall to the ceiling, and the dust and broken wall skin fell down, leaving shallow marks on the torn and greasy carpet.
The entire corridor seemed to have experienced an earthquake, or another fifty years.
It almost gave Mo Yi an illusion as if he had passed away.