return from the hell: they call me god

chapter4

New Haven, Dreamland Villas

Two officers approached, carrying sledgehammers.

Ray Thompson took a pair of tongs from an officer nearby and picked up the ghost-faced doll from the floor, placing it into an evidence bag held by John Miller. "John, don’t underestimate anything at a crime scene—"

John casually responded, "I know, I know. Don't underestimate anything at the scene. Wait, what’s up with you?"

Ray closely examined the doll inside the evidence bag. "John, this thing doesn’t seem to be electric. There's no battery compartment or charging port."

"Then it must have an internal power source or button cell batteries. Plenty of toys like that nowadays. My son has one just like it!" John wasn’t convinced by Ray’s concern.

Ray stared at him intensely, making John uneasy. "What do you mean by that, Captain?"

Ray asked, "Your son has one?"

John nodded. "Yes, I bought it for him!"

Ray’s face darkened with anger. "Then explain to me why this thing is in the victim's bedroom. The victim lived alone, a man in his fifties. Do you think he’d have a toy like your son’s?"

John was at a loss for words.

Glaring at John, Ray handed the evidence bag with the doll to another officer. "Check the manufacturer of this toy."

"Yes, sir!"

A few minutes later, another police car pulled up outside the villa. The forensic expert had arrived.

The forensic pathologist for the New Haven Police Department, a seasoned woman in her fifties named Dr. Wendy Lane, greeted Ray and John. "Captain Thompson, Detective Miller!"

"I noticed everyone looks pretty shaken up. Is it that bad?"

Bad?

Ray and John exchanged glances, unsure if "bad" was the right word to describe the scene upstairs.

Seeing their expressions, Dr. Lane tried to lighten the mood. "I've seen all sorts of things in this job. Dismembered bodies aren’t new to me. So, what’s the deal?"

John lowered his head, saying nothing, while Ray pointed upstairs. "Dr. Lane, you should see for yourself."

Dr. Lane nodded. "Alright, I’ll take a look."

As she headed up, Ray hesitated for a moment before adding, "By the way, Dr. Lane, there are buckets up there."

Dr. Lane waved dismissively. "Don’t worry, I won’t need them. You guys are still too young—"

With that, Dr. Lane was already at the master bedroom door.

Upon seeing the dismembered body, one second, two seconds, three seconds...

Being a seasoned forensic pathologist, Dr. Lane didn’t vomit, but her expression did change slightly.

This left Ray and John feeling somewhat unsettled.

While Dr. Lane examined the victim upstairs, two officers began breaking the floor downstairs with sledgehammers.

Bang!

"Eighty!"

Bang!

"Eighty!"

Bang!

"Eighty!"

After several hits, there was a loud crash. Fragments flew, and dust billowed as a sealed basement was revealed beneath the floor!

A strong stench of decay filled the air.

Ladders were brought in, and two officers, wearing masks and carrying flashlights, carefully descended.

The basement was pitch black, with no light except for the beams from the officers’ flashlights.

The furnishings were sparse: some old tables and chairs, a few basins of various sizes, and two buckets in the corner.

The smell was overpowering, even with masks. The officers had to cover their noses as they explored.

Suddenly, one officer shuddered, his flashlight revealing a skeleton.

"Jackson! Over here!"

The other officer turned and approached. Slowly, they moved towards the skeleton.

It was a human skeleton, completely devoid of flesh, and very small—about the size of a six or seven-year-old child.

As they got closer, Jackson’s foot hit something. Shining his light, he saw it was a notebook.

Taking the notebook, the two officers continued to the skeleton, discovering four more small skeletons nearby.

One was slightly larger, possibly an eight or nine-year-old.

The five small skeletons huddled closely together, suggesting they had been terrified in their final moments.

The officers were speechless, unable to comprehend the horror these children must have faced.

After thoroughly inspecting the basement and finding nothing else, they returned upstairs.

"How did it go?"

Faced with Ray’s question, the officers remained silent. Jackson handed the notebook to Ray.

Seeing their expressions, Ray had a sense of what they found. He opened the notebook, seeing names, phone numbers, addresses, and amounts. Some names were marked “buy,” others “sell,” and some addresses were labeled “abduct.”

Ray counted: 47 “buy” and “abduct” entries, and 42 “sell” entries.

He continued to flip through the notebook and found that the handwriting suddenly became messy, filled with spelling errors, and strange symbols. He needed to use some imagination to translate it into understandable content.

"That man left his notebook behind. I decided to hide it from him. Who told him not to give us enough food?"

"Today that man took Little Bull away. We have one less friend now."

"That man is so mean. He only gives us a little bit of food every day, but he clearly said he would give me lots of delicious food when he brought me here."

"Today another friend left. It was Red."

"I miss my mom and dad. I really miss them. If mom were here, she would give me lots of food."

"Yeah, dad would probably beat that man."

"Many days have passed, and now there are only seven friends left."

"Orange was nice. He hid some food and secretly gave it to me."

"When can I go home? I miss home, I miss mom, I miss dad..."

"Today Orange was beaten because he cried too loudly. That man hit him hard, and the harder he cried, the harder the man hit him."

"Today Orange left too. It’s good for him, he won't get beaten anymore, but I won’t see him again."

"There are only six friends left."

"Ling Ling was taken away. When will it be my turn?"

"That man is filling the stairs with dirt, but the five of us are still here. He won’t let us out, will he?"

"It’s so dark. The stairs are blocked. How will he bring us food?"

"Oh, he won’t bring us food anymore."

"I’m so hungry."

"Hungry."

"Hungry."

"Hungry."

"......"

The crooked handwriting ended there, with nothing more written.

Ray Thompson’s eyes were red as he blinked rapidly, looking up to take a deep breath, trying to keep the tears from falling.

He couldn’t imagine the despair this child, who wrote "hungry" day after day, must have felt.

Beside him, Jackson lowered his head and said, "Captain, we found the remains of five children, estimated to be between five and eight years old, in the basement."

"They were reduced to skeletons, with no flesh left."

"The bones show no external injuries, suggesting they either suffocated or starved to death."

Ray could hardly hold it in. He handed the notebook to John Miller and turned to leave. "I need some fresh air. Don’t follow me!"

Just as he stepped outside, a woman’s sobbing came from the second floor of the villa.

Ray immediately ran upstairs to see Dr. Wendy Lane, the experienced forensic pathologist, kneeling on the floor in the crime scene, looking terrified and crying.

Rubbing his eyes, Ray asked, "Dr. Lane, what’s wrong?"

Dr. Lane turned, trembling, and said, "Forty-six cuts, forty-seven pieces..."

"Forty-six cuts?"

"Forty-seven pieces?"

Ray glanced at the dismembered body and immediately understood what Dr. Lane meant.

"Ha, ha ha ha!"

Ray laughed, tears streaming down his face. Staring at the bloody corpse, his eyes burning with anger, he shouted, "Good!"

That’s f*****g good!"

"Cut well!"

"Perfect! Damn it!"

After a few moments of venting his rage, Ray wiped his tears and asked, "Dr. Lane, did you find anything else?"

Dr. Lane, still sobbing, suddenly cried out, "He’s not dead!"

"He took forty-six cuts, was sliced into forty-seven pieces, but he’s still alive. He’s not dead, not dead!"

She was almost screaming by the end.

Ray stood frozen in shock.

John, who had just come upstairs with a face full of anger and tears after reading the notebook, was stunned. "W-what?!"

...

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.