Chapter Five: Under the Gaze of Surveillance: Ubiquitous Eyes
2079 Words
The instant Zhang Hui’s paper-thin, violently trembling form vanished into the shadows beyond the Art Prep Room doorway, Chen Mo felt something intangible seize his heart, crushing it to pulp. The child’s eyes blazing with primal terror, the livid purple bruise encircling her wrist, her flight like a scalded creature—all resonated as silent screams within his skull. Li Enci’s pronouncement of "requiring ‘tranquil’ guidance" and the torn sketch beneath her fingertip, concealing its sinister symbol, pierced him like an ice shard deep in his marrow.
"Teacher Chen?" Li Enci’s voice, cool as brushed silk, severed his asphyxiating fury and horror. She remained poised beside the chilling black "Tranquility Chair," her eternally calibrated smile intact, as if Zhang Hui’s appearance and flight were mere dust motes stirred by a draft. "It grows late. I’ll escort you to the cafeteria. Familiarize yourself while taking supper." Her tone was casually conversational, befitting a tea party arrangement.
Chen Mo’s throat seized; nausea churned like stormy seas within him, rendering speech nearly impossible. He managed a stiff nod, his gaze magnetically locked on the sinister metallic apparatus. The cold, hole-pocked helmet loomed in his vision, grotesquely magnified, the visor of an executioner’s device.
Li Enci led the way, her heels striking the polished tiles with sharp, metronomic precision—"tick, tick"—an unnerving counterpoint to the chemical-laden silence. Chen Mo drew a fortifying breath, forced the roiling emotions into submission, and followed.
Exiting the prep room, the corridor’s oppressive blend of paint, glue, and old paper fumes thinned against the colder external air. The hall remained desolate, the only sound the sibilant hum of overhead fluorescent tubes. Student artworks lining the walls—distorted colors under the clinical glare—resembled petrified nightmare fragments.
They ventured deeper into Teaching Wing C, down a narrower, dimmer passageway. Its sole illumination came from twin doors of reinforced steel at the far end, leaking a sliver of weak light. The scent of decay, disinfectant, and now a pervasive, cloying miasma of overcooked food hung thickly in the air.
Li Enci pushed open the heavy doors.
A palpable wave of heat assaulted them—reeking of cheap grease, synthetic seasonings, steam, and the indefinable sourness of borderline spoilage! It instantly displaced the corridor's chill, replacing it with a suffocating, oleaginous oppression.
The cafeteria was cavernous, a dimly lit grotto. Antiquated incandescent bulbs hung from the high ceiling, casting a sallow pall over rows upon rows of cold stainless steel tables and benches, laid out with factory-line precision. Every seat was occupied. And yet—utter silence!
An absolute, scalp-prickling silence!
Hundreds of students, clad in identical grey tracksuits, bent low over their trays like programmed automata. Their chewing motions were stiff, unnervingly synchronized. No conversation. No lifted glances. Barely a clink of utensil on tray! Only the occasional flicker of eyes beneath lowered lids, restless fireflies in the gloom. The entire space drowned in a viscous, breath-stealing silence, punctuated solely by the collective, hushed "susurration" of mastication—a low, oppressive undercurrent amplifying the horror of the void!
Chen Mo’s heart seized as if clutched by icy talons. This was no dining hall; it was a colossal, soundless cell. Oppression weighed like a lead mantle upon his chest, stifling his very breath.
Li Enci, seemingly oblivious to the abnormality, glided forward with her fixed smile, navigating the rows of silent, statue-like diners towards a partially screened-off section near the rear—faculty seating. Brighter lighting here revealed a few circular plastic tables occupied by sparsely populated tables of casually dressed teachers. They too ate in profound silence, faces etched with exhausted vacancy, gazes hollow, as if the endless quiet had siphoned their very souls.
"Teacher Chen, please sit." Li Enci gestured to an empty table. "I shall fetch your tray."
Chen Mo lowered himself stiffly onto the plastic chair; its soft creak echoed abnormally loud in the hush. Instantly, he felt the weight of countless eyes—from the silent students, the vacant teachers—pin him like cold probes. Not curiosity, nor welcome, but a profound, chilling indifference... mingled with an indefinable wariness? He was an alien intruder, trespassing on forbidden ground.
He forced himself to look down, avoiding the pervasive scrutiny. Yet his gaze involuntarily scanned the walls, the ceiling corners—where clusters of hemispherical surveillance domes bloomed like malignant constellations! Their dark lenses, unblinking eyes, glinted with faint crimson lights, coldly overseeing every corner, every bowed head, every vacant face, every unappetizing morsel. No blind spot existed.
Vertigo and asphyxiation overwhelmed him. This omnipresent surveillance was an intangible web, ensnaring all within its weave. Memories of Xiaoyu, the probe outside her door, the blinking red dot in Li Entai’s office—chill dread flooded his limbs.
Then, his gaze snagged on a figure in the near distance, diagonally opposite.
A slender girl sat with her back to him at the very end of a table near the wall. Dressed in grey, her shoulders shuddered faintly. Xu Na! The girl who hoarded food in her bag!
Unlike others, Xu Na wasn't eating. Her tray held a glutinous, unidentifiable stew, barely touched. Her left hand pressed flat on the table; her right vanished with lightning speed and concealed tension into the faded canvas backpack resting on her lap! Chen Mo could see the tremor of effort in her shoulder! She withdrew something—dark, compressed crumbs?—and stuffed them into her mouth with rodent-quick desperation! Her head snapped down; the shudder ceased. As if nothing happened.
But Chen Mo witnessed it clearly! This wasn't sneaking a treat. Her movements screamed... concealment! Hiding cafeteria food? In her bag? Why? Hunger? Or... terror?
An ineffable cold slithered up Chen Mo’s spine! Li Enci’s dismissive mention of Xu Na’s "quirk" echoed—this was no mere habit!
"Teacher Chen. Your supper." Li Enci's voice beside him held a trace of scrutiny. She placed a stainless tray before him. The meal mirrored Xu Na's: glutinous stew, lard-streaked lumps floating in murky broth, two shriveled yellow buns, a saucer of pickles. The combined smell, merging with the cafeteria's greasy reek, turned his stomach.
Li Enci remained standing, her calm gaze sweeping over Chen Mo, lingering almost imperceptibly towards Xu Na's distant corner. "Resources are limited, but nutrition is assured. Meal duration is thirty minutes." She gave a shallow nod and departed, her footsteps fading towards the entrance.
Chen Mo stared at the repellent food, appetite nonexistent. He forced chopsticks into his hand, his gaze drifting irresistibly towards Xu Na. Then, his peripheral vision caught another figure!
Near the entrance, flanking the faculty section, stood a powerfully built janitor in dark blue overalls (not Hu Qiang, but equally expressionless). He stood rigid, scanning the room like a hawk, his gaze suddenly falling—deliberately?—onto Xu Na's corner! It lingered. A flicker of disdain, almost... warning? tightened his lips!
Xu Na sensed it! Her small frame instantly coiled tight, spines bristling unseen! She jerked her head down, burying her face nearly in the tray, shoulders convulsing anew! The hand clutching her backpack clawed at the fabric, knuckles blanched to alabaster!
Terror! Pure, marrow-deep terror!
Chen Mo's heart hammered against his ribs! He snapped his gaze down, feigning absorption in his own chilled meal. Inner turmoil raged unchecked. Xu Na hid food not from hunger, but... fear of observation? Fear of discovery? Fear of that janitor?! And what was she hiding? Cafeteria scraps? Or... something else?
Icy dread rose from his soles. This institution pulsed with perversion and horror! Students were marionettes, teachers hollow shells, janitors were wardens—and surveillance... everywhere!
Supper ended in suffocating silence. At the faint, mosquito-buzz chime, every student, like a programmed automaton, froze mid-motion. Simultaneously, they stood. Without word or gesture (utensils abandoned for collection), they formed mute grey rivulets, flowing soundlessly towards the exits. The transition was unnaturally swift, eerily silent, leaving only the muffled shuffle of countless shoes on greasy flooring.
Chen Mo rose with the other somber teachers. Instinctively, his gaze sought Xu Na. She was already lost in the stream flowing towards the dormitory exits, the bulky outline of her faded canvas bag glaringly obvious against her slight back in the failing light.
Exiting the cafeteria, the fog had devoured the last trace of sky. Sickly yellow streetlamps struggled weakly through the murk, like the eyes of the dying. Icy air, saturated with damp and loamy decay, bit into exposed skin. Chen Mo hugged his thin coat tighter, following the current towards the main building. He needed the cell of 307, but more urgently, to see Xiaoyu! That "24-hour omnipresent monitoring" hung over him like the Sword of Damocles!
Crossing the desolate plaza, he re-entered the vast, chilled sterility of the main lobby. Bleached by sterile lights, utterly empty save for the silently pivoting eyes of surveillance. He turned towards the annex door. Then, his peripheral vision snagged—
Down by the main staircase—the heavy fire door labeled "Faculty Administration"—stood slightly ajar! Faint light spilled from within!
Involuntarily, Chen Mo halted. A serpentine thought coiled through his mind: The Control Room! That sanctum where Xiaoyu’s door was watched! That fleeting glimpse of a hidden screen amidst flickering lights! It had to be there! Possibly… within the office block?!
Overwhelming dread and a near-suicidal urge drove him. He scanned the lobby—emptiness, save for the roving probes above. He sucked in a breath, pressed himself flat against the freezing wall, footsteps feather-light, and slipped through the narrow opening!
Beyond the door lay the familiar expanse of the vast open office, bathed in the same clinical light. Most cubicles stood deserted; only the area near Li Entai’s office held any illumination. The cloying blend of stenches remained potent. Chen Mo’s heart hammered against his ribs. He held his breath, eyes raking the space—glass partitions, whiteboards, filing cabinets... Where was the screen?!
His gaze snapped to an unremarkable alcove near the fire door, embedded in the inner wall. There! A modestly sized LCD screen glowed! Spliced into dozens of panels—real-time feeds from every monitored corner of the campus!
Adrenaline surged through Chen Mo. He lunged forward!
Images flickered rapidly: the fog-choked plaza; the silent, yellow-lit corridors; the secured dormitory entrance... Frantically, he sought the annex footage—There! The dim corridor outside Xiaoyu’s confinement! Room 101.
Its door… was closed! The entrance... empty! Hu Qiang was gone?!
Relief washed over him—then instantly froze into glacial horror.
Room 102 beside it—the room of the earlier altercation—stood slightly ajar! Weak light leaked through the gap. And scattered on the floor beneath the crack... lay shards of… white porcelain? Edges jagged, uneven—like smashed crockery!
Chen Mo’s breath ceased. Flashes ignited: the stomped wrist at the "Quiet Room" threshold! Zheng Tai! Zhang Hui’s bruised arm! The neighboring room! What had transpired?!
As petrifying dread surged, the feed flickered. A previously innocuous image—a vacant classroom—suddenly expanded, consuming the entire screen!
The image showed gloom. A slight figure in grey, back to the camera, crouched beside a battered desk at the classroom's furthest corner. Zhang Hui!
Utterly oblivious to the lens! Her body trembled with tension, left hand braced on the desk, right hand gripping a sharp, metallic object (a honed spoon handle? Shard of glass?!). She etched something onto the desktop with ferocious, desperate intensity! An aura of frantic, broken concentration radiated from her.
The lens zoomed! Magnification deepened! Focus sharpened!
Chen Mo’s heart threatened to burst from his chest! He stared, transfixed! The pattern emerging under Zhang Hui’s frenzied scratching... the convoluted lines... the grotesque composition... crystallizing with hideous clarity!
It was unmistakably—a strangled bird, its neck wrenched by vicious vines! Lines wild with agony! Echoing the concealed symbol within the torn sketch Li Enci had exhibited! And chillingly reminiscent of that small, vine-choked avian emblem on the contract annex!
"NNNNRRRRKKK—!"
An earsplitting, air-raid siren scream tore through the office! Brain-shatteringly sharp! Simultaneously, every overhead light died. Utter, heart-stopping blackness descended—save for the lone monitor screen. Zhang Hui’s frenzied etching glowed there with a spectral, bone-white luminescence—a hellish peephole!
"WHO'S THERE?!" A brutal roar, accompanied by footfalls like thunder, erupted from the office's depth! Hu Qiang's voice! Laden with lethal intent!
- Writer
