Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I went home, grabbed a flashlight, and searched everywhere for An’an.

The residential compound had been built specifically for refinery workers. It was shaped like a slightly tilted trapezoid, constructed along the mountainside, with seven levels in total.

The first level had the most residents, more than sixty households altogether. The number decreased with each level going up, until the seventh level had only five households.

I checked the homes of several of An’an’s kindergarten classmates.

Nothing.

Frantic, I even searched the garbage pit and the vertical shafts.

Still nothing.

It was a sweltering summer night, but I was cold all over, my legs as heavy as if they had been filled with lead.

Step by step, I made my way up toward the seventh level, even though I knew there was probably no hope.

The seventh level was the very last tier of the residential compound, halfway up the mountain. The residents’ doors faced directly toward the woods.

There were quite a few unmarked graves on the mountain, and there was also a public dry latrine. In summer, the stench was unbearable, so nearly all the apartments there were empty.

I thought, Could An’an have needed to use the toilet and climbed out the window at home? Could she be at the public latrine?

But I went in and searched twice. I even used a long stick to prod around in the cesspit.

Nothing.

I was in despair.

For one instant, the urge to run away rose inside me.

Because whether An’an was dead or had been abducted, either outcome was more than I could bear.

Just then, I heard a burst of barking not far away.

I shone my flashlight in that direction and saw a yellowish-brown stray dog barking madly at two abandoned houses in front of the woods, as if there were something terrifying inside.

People had spread rumors before, saying they had seen ghostly lights in those abandoned houses at night, and heard a female ghost crying.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Reason told me to stay away from filthy things and leave at once.

But my sixth sense drove me to go over and take a look.

I picked up a stone from the ground and threw it, scaring the dog away.

The old, battered door was ajar, and waves of cold air seemed to be seeping out from inside.

I didn’t dare push the door open. I walked to the window and shone the flashlight in.

Suddenly, I saw a small, deathly pale face inside.

My scalp tightened and went numb with fear. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground on my knees.

A ghost! There was a ghost!

I wanted to run, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t stand up. All I could do was keep screaming for help.

Then, all at once, it was as if someone had struck me over the head with a club.

That “ghost” I had just seen seemed to be… An’an.

I struggled to my feet, clenched my teeth, and walked closer.

When I looked inside again, my heart seemed to stop beating.

The room was empty, filthy, and in total disarray. In the very center sat a chair about half a person’s height. An’an was sitting on it, her arms and legs bound to the chair with thin iron wire.

Her dress was nowhere to be seen. There seemed to be blood on her little underwear. The small vest on her upper body had been torn open, exposing most of her young body.

Her head drooped slightly, her face ashen gray, but someone had smeared a thick layer of lipstick on her lips. It had been dragged out past the corners of her mouth on both sides, curving faintly upward, as if someone had slit her mouth open with a knife-or as if she were smiling.

It looked eerie and terrifying.

She did not move at all, as if… she were dead.

When a person is gripped by extreme terror, they cannot make a sound.

With a thud, the flashlight fell to the ground.

In the darkness and silence, An’an and I “looked” at each other for a very long time.

I don’t know how I managed to scream.

I don’t know how I left that place.

Dead.

She was really dead.

…