Horror Game Designer

Chapter 84: A Completely Dark Memorial Photo

A myriad of fragrances assailed his senses. Qing Ge had not anticipated that despite sacrificing numerous lives, he would still find himself ensnared in the mysterious shadow world.

“The hunger of this creature is growing insatiably,” he muttered to himself.

Blind and deaf, Qing Ge felt as though he was imprisoned in a sensory-devoid cage. Despite this, fear didn’t touch him; his confidence stemmed wholly from the black knife he gripped in his hand.

Originally, the knife wasn’t black. Its hue was the result of blood and flesh it had sliced through. Regularly cleansed with mystical talismans, the blade had absorbed a sinister essence.

“Each scent is a life, a story. I can’t tell the innocent from the guilty, but my strategy is simple: eliminate anyone who dares approach, and eventually, I’ll escape this place,” he thought.

Cripple Bay Village’s Dog Cellar was pivotal to Situ An. The monster’s capabilities within this cellar were of less interest to him than something else he sought there.

While the Hanhai Charity Association constructed a school at the temporary shelter, they learned from locals about a madman who once resided in the underground cellar. Fueled by hatred due to his “Bamboo Mother” being killed by a fire started by children’s playing, he would stealthily abduct the children from the village as an act of revenge, subjecting them to horrific torture until their demise.

According to what Situ An had told him, one needed children to be tormented to the brink of desiring death before their life force could be extracted.

Qing Ge knew of Situ An’s numerous deeds in harvesting life forces over the years. To aid Situ An’s survival, Qing Ge’s grim task was to retrieve the dead bodies of these children for use in a ritual.

Despite numerous sacrifices, each time children and villagers were sent into the cellar, they vanished without a trace. Daytime investigations revealed only footprints and scraps of clothing.

To claim the bodies of these tragically deceased children, Qing Ge had no choice but to lead a team into the cellar under the veil of night. Inside, he quickly realized this situation was unlike anything he had encountered before.

The black knife had been a weapon of death for many. Even without seeing, Qing Ge could sense the presence of numerous corpses around him, yet the overwhelming stench remained unchanged.

“Is this entity trying to corrupt my mind through these scents?” he wondered.

The cellar’s monster was yet to reveal itself, but Qing Ge had already categorized the dangers associated with each scent. The sweet fragrance of osmanthus signified a powerful couple needing a lethal strike; the odor of sweat indicated villagers, hinting at an impending group assault; the most perilous was the smell of mothballs, belonging to a cunning and skilled bladed weapons expert. Additionally, a faint, putrid smell had lingered until he had killed its owner, never to be detected again.

Unshaken, Qing Ge maintained his resolve, relentlessly eliminating all until no scents remained.

Amidst the river of blood and shattered shadows, Qing Ge discerned a faint glimmer of light.

“Could that be a way out?”

Tense and vigilant, he cautiously advanced towards the light, symbolizing hope.

His knife poised for action, Qing Ge remained acutely aware of any shifts in the surrounding odors.

Suddenly, a few meters from the light, he felt a chilling sensation on his neck and instinctively dodged sideways.

A sharp blade grazed his skin, cutting deeply enough to rupture blood vessels. Had he not moved swiftly, his throat would have been slit open.

Swinging his knife behind him in defense, Qing Ge met only air. This unexpected attack disturbed his usually calm demeanor.

“Is there an anomaly in this dark cellar, a ghost, or a person?”

Now with his sense of smell compromised, Qing Ge had to rely solely on his honed instincts, sharpened from years of hunting humans.

With a sudden movement, he launched an attack a meter in front of him, his blade striking something. However, simultaneous assaults targeted his thigh, back, and neck.

“Am I facing four attackers?”

Dr. Lu had mentioned only one ghost in the cellar, yet now Qing Ge found himself under attack from multiple assailants.

“Could the other investigators have betrayed me?”

Qing Ge realized a horrifying truth: his attackers were unimpeded by the darkness and seemed to be collaborating.

Under relentless attack, his injuries multiplied, making this an overwhelmingly unfair battle. Even his trusty black knife seemed futile.

Deprived of sight, smell, and hearing, Qing Ge felt a genuine sense of fear, his hand trembling as he held his knife.

Engulfed in the oppressive darkness and silence, Qing Ge faced a mysterious and terrifying entity. It seemed to know him intimately, its decision to spare his life suggesting it had other plans for him.

Qing Ge, once a ruthless hunter for Situ An, now found himself engulfed in fear for the first time. The formidable strength that had always been his shield was now shattered, rendering him vulnerable and indistinguishable from the ordinary people he had previously preyed upon.

The dim light that he could barely perceive appeared as an unreachable paradise.

In a desperate move, Qing Ge ripped his sleeve and tightly bound the black knife to his trembling hand. His movements became sluggish, his once precise and deadly techniques now disorganized and weak.

His wrist broken, Qing Ge collapsed to the ground, drenched in his own blood, his fingers no longer capable of gripping the knife.

Plunged into a pit of despair, Qing Ge faced the ultimate adversary: himself. But, broken and demoralized, he couldn’t muster the will to rise again.

Feeling as if his heart was being crushed by iron pincers, his erratic heartbeat was a grim reminder of his dire situation.

Gradually, as his blurred vision began to clear slightly, he saw a light approaching through the darkness. Beside him stood four figures, and Gao Ming, holding a cell phone.

Gao Ming confronted him: “When you sent so many innocents to their doom in this cellar, did you ever imagine you would meet your end here?”

Qing Ge, blood spilling from his mouth and a terrifying look in his eyes, managed to utter, “Who are you?”

“I am a doctor, one who aims to heal the world by cutting away its rotten parts,” Gao Ming declared, confiscating Qing Ge’s fallen black knife. “Any last words?”

Qing Ge, with a strange reverence for Situ An, defiantly responded, “I’ll be waiting for you in hell. Situ An will be your end.”

“Then wait patiently. It won’t be long before he joins you,” Gao Ming retorted, turning away as his spectral power dragged Qing Ge into what appeared to be Gao Ming’s own mutated heart.

It seemed only beings from the shadow world could transform into such ethereal chains. The entity, having consumed Qing Ge, didn’t weaken; instead, it grew stronger, its massive form becoming more proportionate and nimble.

Gao Ming pondered, “Qing Ge had a strength beyond normal human understanding. Was it Situ An’s intention to groom him as a unique sacrifice from the start?”

With the four figures beside him, Gao Ming resumed his search for Wei Dayou in the cellar.

Realizing Gao Ming’s intent to target other living beings, the massive black dog emerged again, its dark eyes fixed on Gao Ming. “You’ve achieved your goal, don’t harm others.”

“You’re misunderstanding me again,” Gao Ming said, hands outstretched to show he meant no harm. “My plan is to create a sanctuary in the Lishan district of the shadow world for those still alive. I want to help them adapt to life in this shadow realm.”

The dog, cloaked in darkness and ready to escape, expressed its confusion. “I don’t quite follow your thinking.”

Gao Ming explained his vision: “You aim to simply send the living to the shadow world, but I intend to teach these afflicted souls how to survive and thrive in the shadow city. I want to enable those trapped in the shadow world to live and reproduce as they would normally.”

“You think humans can adapt where monsters can’t? You’d be better off feeding them directly to the shadows,” the dog countered skeptically.

Gao Ming, having experienced the memory of the blind man, knew there was a glimmer of compassion within the dog, instilled by ‘Bamboo Mom’. “If you truly believed that, you wouldn’t have painstakingly trapped these villagers and children; you would have offered them directly to the shadow world,” he argued. “Our hearts are now in sync, sharing life and death. Maybe we should try living there, meet other neighbors. If it fails, we can always return.”

The dog, surprised by Gao Ming’s proposal of a shared fate, considered its options as he slapped itself with those dog ears. Its power to rob sight and hearing was ineffective against Gao Ming, and it seemed outmatched in a direct confrontation with the Flesh Immortal.

Gao Ming’s offer seemed like a choice, but in reality, the dog had little alternative.

“Alright, let’s give it a try,” the dog reluctantly agreed.

Expanding its form, the dog enveloped all living beings around, causing the shadows to recede gradually.

As Gao Ming returned to the real world, only Wei Dayou, standing in stunned silence, and a pitch-black obituary photo remained in the cellar.

The photo, showing the large dog, was entirely black, making it impossible to discern the dog’s presence in the darkness with the naked eye.

Flipping the photo over, Gao Ming found a poignant message written on the back.

“A family photo: They say I resemble a dog, but I know dogs are far happier than I am. Nevertheless, despite my inability to hear or see, I will continue to live earnestly, for I must care for my mother in the future.”