Tik-tok, tik-tok.

The night was hazy, and the autumn rain was pattering down.

Raindrops kept hitting the glass, streaming down and leaving trails of murky watermarks.

Even the morning glory outside the windowsill drooped its head, beaten and limp.

Fang Cheng stared at the clump of foul-smelling black paper in his hand, his heartbeat uncontrollably speeding up.

But at this moment, a sharp sting suddenly came from the just-cleaned back of his hand.

He widened his eyes abruptly and looked closely.

The originally fair skin had at some point formed a dark red hard lump.

Capillaries around were raised, showing a web-like pattern of purple-black lines.

A penetrating burning sensation drilled straight into the flesh through the pores.

The bump even wriggled slightly beneath the skin.

"Hiss—"

Fang Cheng gasped, immediately throwing the stained tissue into the trash bin by his feet.

Then he quickly walked out of the bedroom, headed straight for the bathroom on the same floor, and turned on the faucet.

Water gushed down, cool and refreshing.

He picked up the remaining half-bar of soap on the sink and scrubbed his hand three times.

Only when the pungent rotting smell slightly faded did the stinging pain barely ease.

Fang Cheng turned off the faucet and shook off the moisture from his hands.

Looking down, the dark red lump was still prominently raised.

It looked as if a poisonous mosquito had bitten fiercely, red and swollen with an inexplicable eeriness.

Such a phenomenon beyond reason seemed too far-fetched to be explained by ordinary rain pollution.

"What on earth is going on? Could something have happened in Pingjiang County, like a chemical factory explosion causing acid rain?"

Fang Cheng furrowed his brows and gently pressed the lump with his thumb.

An intense aching sensation instantly arrived, definitely not a normal allergic reaction.

He took several deep breaths, turned around, and went back to the bedroom, sitting again at the desk.

Looking up at the clock on the table, the second hand ticked; it was almost nine at night.

Suppressing the chaotic thoughts, he picked up a pen, preparing to finish the two sets of papers before him.

Scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch...

The room was silent, the pen tip swiftly glided over the paper, making a monotonous friction sound.

Just as he finished half of the paper, Fang Cheng put down the pen, ready to stretch.

The action of stretching his arms suddenly froze mid-air.

He realized a problem.

The house seemed too quiet.

The sounds of his parents watching TV and arguing downstairs had completely vanished without notice.

Even his brother, who loved to run around the living room, was utterly silent.

The entire two-story self-built house was left with only the continuous sound of rain echoing monotonously from outside.

Fang Cheng tightened his grip on the pen, his nose twitched.

An even stronger stench than before wafted over from somewhere.

The smell was akin to rotting fish and meat left to ferment for half a month in the peak of summer, locked in a room, constantly releasing a nauseating stench.

At this moment, Fang Cheng’s mind inexplicably flashed back to the twisted dark shadow he saw in the morning.

Then he looked down, glancing at the high-raised dark red bump on the back of his hand.

A chill ran up his spine, tracing up to the back of his head.

Feeling chilled down his back, Fang Cheng stood up immediately, scanning the room, seeking the smell’s source.

A moment later, he finally detected the anomaly.

The viscous stench seemed to be seeping in bit by bit through the crack of the tightly shut bedroom door.

His eyes flickered slightly, so he walked to the bedroom door softly and pressed his ear against the wooden door to listen for a few seconds.

There were no footsteps outside, only the dull sound of rain hitting the ground from the eaves.

Fang Cheng gripped the doorknob, slowly turning it.

"Clack."

The crisp sound of the latch springing echoed eerily in the corridor.

The door hinge turned, the corridor remained unlit, dark.

Fang Cheng extended his left hand, searching for the familiar plastic switch on the wall, pressing it hard.

"Click."

The switch was pressed all the way down, yet the overhead incandescent light gave no reaction.

Power outage? Yet the desk lamp on the bedroom desk was still emitting a warm yellow glow.

Fang Cheng’s frowned deepened, fingers pressed the switch several times.

Still no response, the sense of unease within him grew stronger.

The temperature in the corridor seemed much lower than in the bedroom.

Fang Cheng held his breath, once again identifying the smell’s source.

The revolting stench permeated the air even more thoroughly.

As if surging from the stairway, bubbling up from downstairs.

He lightened his footsteps, leaning against the chilly wall, inching down the wooden staircase one step at a time. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

The main light in the first-floor living room was not on.

The only pale light source came from the old-fashioned CRT TV.

Originally playing a drama, the screen was now full of flickering black and white snowflakes, emitting "scritch-scratch" electrical noises.

The sofa was empty, his parents and brother nowhere to be found.

Fang Cheng’s gaze swept over the scattered toys on the floor, finally stopping in front of the passageway leading to the courtyard.

Using the weak flickering light from the television, he saw a hunched silhouette standing quietly in front of the tightly drawn curtains.

The person wore a familiar dark grey sweater, by the shape, it was his grandfather, who always sat there coughing.

As the distance gradually closed, the stench grew more intense.

Fang Cheng’s eyes lit up, finally pinpointing the source of the anomaly.

The smell of rotting fish and meat was continuously emanating from the fibers of that dark grey sweater, making his eyes sting.