chapter 5
1651 Words
New Haven, Dreamland Villas
"Dr. Lane, do you hear yourself?" Ray Thompson looked at the most experienced forensic pathologist in New Haven, who seemed utterly shaken. He wondered if she had been traumatized by the victim’s body.
Clang!
Dr. Wendy Lane dropped her tweezers and retreated to a corner of the bedroom, trembling and hugging herself. "Breath... breath..."
Ray's expression changed slightly. He hadn't checked the victim's breathing because he had assumed from John Miller's call that the body was already dismembered and dead.
He looked at John, who stammered, "The victim was cut into over forty pieces. Do we really need to check for breath?!"
Ray said nothing. While John's reasoning was not by the book, it was logical.
Ray put on a mask, entered the bedroom, and tried to suppress his urge to vomit as he checked the victim, "Warren Smith," for signs of breath.
Ray's body went numb as if he had been electrocuted. Warren Smith, who had been "sliced" forty-six times into forty-seven pieces, still had a faint breath!
Clinically speaking, the man was still alive!
Ray ripped off his mask and turned to John, saying in a daze, "Call... call an ambulance, call an ambulance..."
John hesitated for a second, then shouted, "Call an ambulance?! Are you both crazy?!"
"I don’t believe this! How can someone survive being cut up like this?!"
John moved forward to check for himself. When he placed his hand under the victim’s mutilated nose, he felt the faint breath just as Ray had.
He reached for his phone, but his shaking hands dropped it into the blood. He bent down to pick it up, but the blood made the phone slippery, and he couldn't get a grip.
Finally, Ray called over an officer to dial the emergency number for New Haven.
The ambulance arrived quickly, within ten minutes.
A paramedic, leading two stretcher-bearers, approached the bedroom door. Seeing the gruesome scene inside, he turned and vomited against the wall.
So did the stretcher-bearers.
After emptying their stomachs, the paramedic, supporting himself against the wall and covering his mouth, waved to Ray and John, saying, "In this condition, there's no point in attempting a rescue. Just call the mortuary."
Realizing he was speaking to officers, he corrected himself, "If it's a homicide, you handle it as needed."
Ray and John wanted to speak, but couldn't find the words to explain Warren's situation.
As the paramedics began to leave, Ray reluctantly said, "Doctor, could you at least check for breath?"
John added, "Yeah, just in case, you know, what if he’s still alive?"
The paramedic, pale and having just vomited, gave them a look that suggested they were out of their minds. Nonetheless, he went back to the bedroom, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
Seconds later—
"Holy s**t!"
The middle-aged paramedic jumped up, exclaiming, "He's still breathing?!"
"Damn, that’s incredible!"
"Stretcher! We need to save him!"
Hearing the word "save," Warren Smith, lying on the ground, suddenly moved. His breathing became heavier, his hands twitched, and he began to mumble faintly.
Ray leaned in to listen closely. He heard the blood-soaked, mutilated man whispering, "Help me, help me..."
Ray was stunned and deeply shaken. This man, having been cut forty-six times into forty-seven pieces, was still alive and conscious!
The determination to survive was beyond comprehension.
But Ray felt no admiration for Warren’s will to live. Thinking of the five skeletons in the basement, he wanted to strike Warren himself.
John, with eyes blazing, hissed, "It's not fair! He should be dead!"
"This kind of person deserves to be flayed alive!"
"He’s already experienced that," Ray said, stepping aside to let the paramedics through.
However, the paramedics and the stretcher-bearers were at a loss. How were they supposed to move a man who had been cut into pieces?
Especially since he was still alive; any wrong move could cause a medical disaster.
No one dared to touch Warren Smith, the man who had been sliced to pieces.
Seeing no one approaching him, Warren tried to move towards the stretcher himself, causing his flesh to fall off in bloody chunks until only a bare skeleton remained.
...
Central City, Elm Street Shopping District
"Hello everyone! This is Central City's New Street Interviews!"
"Today, we’re here on the bustling Elm Street to interview some random people!"
"Wow! I just spotted a very refined and handsome guy!"
"Camera! Quick, follow him!"
Kenny Ghost, dressed in white and carrying a white shoulder bag, was walking leisurely down the pedestrian street when a lively girl holding a microphone appeared in front of him. She smiled and asked, "Hey there, you’re so handsome! Can we do a street interview with you?"
Kenny smiled and nodded. "Sure."
The girl, looking starstruck, exclaimed, "Wow! You look even better when you smile! What do you think is your best quality, apart from being good-looking?"
Kenny thought for a moment and then smiled, "I think my best quality is kindness."
"Oh?"
The girl’s eyes lit up. "Can you give an example?"
Kenny lifted his head slightly, the sunlight glinting off his gold-rimmed glasses, his smile radiating warmth.
"Well, for example, I had a dream where I was kidnapped along with forty-six other children."
"After we escaped, all the other children were eager to get revenge on the kidnapper by stabbing him."
"But I thought differently. I considered how painful it would be to endure forty-six stabs. It could be fatal..."
"I couldn't bear to see such a tragedy unfold, so..."
At this point, Kenny Ghost looked directly into the camera behind the interviewer, his smile growing even brighter—
"So, after he was stabbed forty-six times, I made sure he stayed alive."
The interviewer was speechless.
After a brief, awkward silence, she forced a laugh, "Uh, well, that’s a really dark joke, haha!"
She was about to ask another question, but Kenny bowed slightly to the camera, gave a gentle smile, and turned to leave.
His smile left the interviewer in a daze. By the time she snapped out of it and looked around for Kenny's white-clad figure, all she could see was the bustling crowd on Elm Street.
In the sea of people, there was no sign of the young man in white.
Everyone present was utterly stunned. What they had just witnessed was an unforgettable sight.
“Waaaah!” One after another, the officers and paramedics rushed out of the bedroom, grabbing the buckets and vomiting uncontrollably.
The scene that had unfolded in the bedroom was destined to become an indelible memory for these police officers and medical personnel.
A little later, everyone stood against the walls, pale and drained. This time, the paramedic left without looking back.
John Miller quickly asked, "Why are you leaving? Aren’t you going to save him?"
Ray Thompson gave him a look as if he were an i***t. "John, you don't seriously think someone reduced to a skeleton can be saved, do you?"
John fell silent.
As they stood there, lost for words, an officer rushed up the stairs. "Captain Thompson! We found something!"
Ray, still holding onto the wall for support, gestured, "What is it? Speak up!"
"Captain, we inspected the electrical and network wiring of the villa and discovered that each room has hidden, operational cameras connected to the internet!"
Though exhausted, Ray and John exchanged a glance of wild excitement.
With cameras, they could clearly identify the perpetrator!
...
Central City, Elm Street Shopping District
In a convenience store, two girls sat by the window, chatting and watching the passersby.
Suddenly, the girl with purple hair lit up and pointed outside. "Hannah! Look! There’s a handsome guy!"
"Where? Where?!"
"There, the one in white!"
The other girl, wearing glasses, quickly looked where the purple-haired girl was pointing. "Oh wow! He’s really handsome! He looks so refined!"
"Haha, gold-rimmed glasses, a refined rogue. I knew this is exactly your type!"
"Oh no, he stopped across the street!"
"Should we go and ask for his number?"
"Uh?"
Suddenly, both girls fell silent. They watched as the young man they were admiring pulled a transparent umbrella from his white shoulder bag and opened it over his head.
"Why is he using an umbrella on such a sunny day?"
"I don’t know. It's not even raining!"
"And a transparent umbrella doesn’t block the sun. What’s he doing?"
As the two girls were discussing, the previously clear sky suddenly darkened, clouds gathering swiftly. Large raindrops began to fall, hitting the ground with a sudden ferocity!
The bustling shopping district was caught off guard. Everyone was drenched, turning into soaked figures in the unexpected downpour!
Except for the young man in white, who stood quietly at the roadside with his umbrella, looking up at the summer sky.
In the convenience store, the two girls were dumbfounded.
"It’s raining?"
"Doesn't it feel like the rain waited for him to open his umbrella before it started?"
"Now that you mention it, I feel the same way!"
"Oh my, could this guy be... supernatural?"
"Stop it! If I could have a man like that, I wouldn’t care if he were supernatural!"
"Are you crazy?!"
Across the street.
With one hand holding the umbrella and the other catching the falling raindrops, Kenny Ghost wore that ever-present gentle smile.
He spoke softly, "You chose to end it yourself? Hmph, fine, but..."
"Mr. Warren Smith, as a spirit conjurer, death is just the beginning for me."
As he spoke, he flipped his hand under the falling rain, and immediately, the clouds over Elm Street began to disperse!
The sudden rain lasted only a moment before vanishing without a trace!
Meanwhile, far away in New Haven at Dreamland Villas, a layer of barely perceptible black mist rose from Warren Smith’s body, entering the evidence bag held by the officers, merging with another wisp of black mist attached to the small ghost-faced doll.
- Writer
