Chapter 6

“Are you sure the woman was pregnant?” Shao Lan asked.

The old man picked nervously at his fingers. He seemed about to nod, but hesitated.

“Think so,” he wrote. “But it was dark. I don’t know.”

Shao Lan understood. The old man had been killed too quickly, and the light had been dim. He’d seen her, but couldn’t be certain.

“Tell us about the second time.”

The second time, the old man hadn’t left the bedroom at all.

“Scared. Hid.”

He wrote that, then pointed at Shao Lan. The tip of his pen trembled. “Made a call. Died.”

…

The second time Uncle Bing woke up in that bed, he was out of his mind with fear.

He couldn’t understand what was happening. He could only think he’d run into something evil. Following a method he’d heard about in his village as a child, he wrapped himself completely in the quilt and silently repeated Buddhist prayers.

He prayed for a long time. Outside, everything was quiet.

He poked his head out from under the quilt. He was still in that strange bedroom.

He wanted to escape, but remembered how the woman had killed him the moment he’d left the room last time. He lost his nerve.

He didn’t know how long he’d spent wavering when he suddenly heard a quiet voice making a phone call outside.

“Building 7, Xingfu Estate.”

He hurried to the door, crouched down, and peered through the gap.

He saw a young man in a white shirt and black trousers. He had handsome, refined features and wore silver-framed glasses.

The young man stood close to the landline, a receiver in one hand, making a call.

“Building 7, Xingfu Estate. Someone’s threatening us with a knife. Right now.”

Was he calling the police?

Uncle Bing was about to push the door open. A second later, his eyes widened.

Dim light fell into the living room. Not far behind the young man, a monster crouched on all fours.

She was flat against the floor, her belly pressed to it. In the dark, she looked like a spider with an enormous abdomen.

It was that woman! The woman who had just killed him! She’d heard the young man’s voice and crawled all the way from the kitchen!

Uncle Bing wanted to shout, but terror gripped his throat. He couldn’t make a sound.

The woman crawled silently up behind the young man, then stood.

Her tangled black hair hung over her face, blending into her black cotton-padded jacket.

Then she drove her arm straight through his chest!

Blood sprayed out.

Uncle Bing fell back onto the floor.

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking all over.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he opened them again.

The living room was quiet once more. Only the great splash of bright red blood on the wall remained to remind him that none of it had been a hallucination.

Music from the radio came from the kitchen, along with the repeated sound of a blade chopping through bone.

Trembling, Uncle Bing sat down against the wall and clenched his teeth.

He’d been a timid man all his life. Now he didn’t dare go outside, didn’t dare fight, didn’t dare do anything.

He thought he was going to die here.

Time crept by. Suddenly, a police siren split the silence of the night.

Uncle Bing’s eyes flew wide!

He rushed to the window. The rain and mist obscured the view, but there were definitely tiny headlights flickering deep in the fog.

The police were here!

Sure enough, a short while later, someone began knocking on the security door nearby.

“Police! Open the door!”

“Is anyone in there? Open up!”

The calls continued, but no one opened the door.

As the knocking gradually became less frequent, Uncle Bing grew desperate.

He stumbled out of the bedroom.

Only one door separated him from the police. All he had to do was open it, and he’d be saved.

But after only a few steps, he tripped hard over something and fell.

“Aah!”

He let out an agonized scream.

The woman was lying on the floor.

Flat on her back, her arms and legs spread wide, she lay like a corpse.

But she wasn’t a corpse. The instant Uncle Bing screamed, a strange smile spread across her face.

She sprang up, grabbed him, and slammed him to the floor.

She couldn’t see, couldn’t find her “prey.” But if her prey ran through the living room, they would step on her.

Uncle Bing’s last memory was of the woman gripping his throat, forcing him to look into her eyes.

Those bloodshot eyes, all whites, stretched wide as they stared at him.

“So bitter,” she said with that eerie smile. “So very bitter.”

A second later, the crack of breaking bone split the air. Uncle Bing’s view spun violently until he was facing the wall.

His head had been twisted a full hundred and eighty degrees, his neck broken.

Not far from him lay Jiang Mingran on the floor, while Shao Lan had already been dragged into the kitchen and hacked to pieces.

Everyone was dead again.

The second loop was over.

…

The little goldfish blew bubbles in the tank.

Having asked Uncle Bing everything he could, Shao Lan stood up, deep in thought.

Jiang Mingran came over and held up a slip of paper. “Uncle Bing’s a good guy, right?”

Shao Lan gave a slight nod.

Even before questioning him, he’d known that Jiang Mingran’s death last time probably had nothing to do with Uncle Bing.

But he couldn’t be certain. In this bizarre place, anything was possible. He had to question the man and make sure.

So far, Uncle Bing didn’t seem to be lying.

He was timid, short on courage and judgment alike.

But that didn’t make his presence meaningless.

Though he’d hidden in the bedroom throughout the last loop, he’d confirmed something crucial for Shao Lan and Jiang Mingran.

If they called the police, the police would come.

That was vital. It meant they were on the right track. They’d simply all died before the police could get inside.

So what they needed to do next was…

“Tell me.” Shao Lan looked at Jiang Mingran. “How exactly were you killed?”