Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A faint sound, like flesh being pierced.

But I quickly realized it wasn’t his eyeball.

It was his palm. He had blocked the needle tip with his hand.

His reaction was too fast.

And even through that kind of pain, he didn’t make a sound.

I had planned for so long, thinking I could strike first, but I still hadn’t managed to deal him a fatal blow.

In the instant I panicked, the hand pierced through by the comedone extractor grabbed mine.

Its grip was as strong as iron pincers.

Then he yanked forward, and I was thrown straight out. I was weightless for a full half second before I fell.

I slammed hard into the edge of the bed, my side ribs crashing into the solid wooden corner.

Bang!

A crisp crack, followed by blinding pain.

It hurt so badly that I curled up on the floor, trembling, unable even to cry out.

Then I heard him get off the bed, toss the comedone extractor onto the floor, and walk toward me step by step.

“Yu Xiaotao, stop resisting.”

He came closer, bent down, and grabbed my hair.

“To be made a Sacrifice to the Lord is your honor.”

“But it isn’t over yet.”

I gritted my teeth and muttered.

“Stop struggling,” he said.

But I said it again, partly to bolster myself, partly to fight through the pain.

“I said, it isn’t over yet!”

Then light appeared before my eyes.

Using the smart controls on my phone, I turned on every light in the apartment.

After half an hour of darkness, the sudden leap in brightness was something even my eyes could clearly sense.

For someone with normal vision, there was no way he could open his eyes again in such a short time.

Sure enough, his hand loosened in my hair.

I quickly knocked that hand away, turned, and charged out of the bedroom, then pulled the bedroom door shut behind me.

Next, using both my hands and feet, I tore the door handle apart.

It was a method I’d learned from a movie.

Once the door handle was broken, the door couldn’t be easily opened from either the inside or the outside.

I heard the killer slam into the door, but he couldn’t get it open.

I didn’t linger.

I rushed through the living room, knocking over cups, plates, tables, and chairs all along the way.

Then I burst out through the front door.

Two seconds after the front door slammed shut,

there was a thunderous bang.

The bedroom door had been kicked open by the killer.

He let out a furious roar and stumbled through the living room, kicking the scattered debris everywhere.

I knew all of this. I heard every bit of it clearly.

Because I had never left the apartment at all. Before he broke out of the bedroom, I had hidden in the kitchen.

The living room lights were bright, bright enough to make a sighted person think he could see everything.

But the kitchen lights were off. The glass sliding door would act like a mirror and block his line of sight, while I hid in the farthest corner of the kitchen.

He couldn’t see me.

This was my best way to survive. Not by running faster than him, but by luring him out the door, then locking down the entire apartment and calling the police.

I heard him roar as he yanked open the front door and charged out with huge strides.

His footsteps thudded farther and farther away.

But in the next second, they stopped.

Then, one step at a time, they came back.

I wanted to go shut the door, but it was already too late.

The killer had already walked back in. Then, with a creak, he closed the front door.