Kapitel 24: Chapter 24: Who’s Playing the Piano?
The reddish-brown sludge was mixed with fine gravel, and the texture at my fingertips didn't feel like blood.
"False alarm." Turning off the faucet, the gurgling sound from the pipes came to a halt.
"This place reeks of eeriness, but there's no trace of evil spirits. It's as if something filthy is deliberately playing hide and seek with me." The immense pressure weighed on me continuously. This livestream mission was far more tormenting than waiting for death at the Peaceful Inn. It felt as though an invisible hand in the darkness was manipulating my fate—an utterly dreadful sensation.
Pushing open the door to the inner room, rows of individual stalls came into view.
"Shen Meng? Are you in here?" There was no response as I tried pushing open the door of one of the stalls.
"Wait."
Unnoticed, Xiumu had come in. He grabbed my hand mid-motion. "Host, you know the taboos about bathrooms, right? Opening a slightly ajar door in the middle of the night could get you snatched away by a ghost doll trapped inside."
"Ghost doll?"
"There was a girl named Hanako who used to attend this school. It's said that she got pregnant at sixteen. The guy transferred to another school and disappeared, leaving poor Hanako to end her life in this very bathroom."
"If the guy was of age, he could've been sentenced to death under the law," I replied, expressionless, shaking off Xiumu's hand and opening the door to the first stall.
Broken porcelain shards were covered in moss, and the walls were mottled with unknown substances.
"Don't take it lightly! These urban legends from schools always have some basis in truth." Xiumu moved to the second stall. "Before you open a door, you should knock and ask."
He rapped on the white-painted door, his voice low and theatrical. "Anyone in there? Miss Hanako, I've come to play with you."
His odd behavior and the creepy tone, combined with the setting, sent a chill down my spine.
Taking a deep breath, I lifted the camera and opened each door in sequence as quickly as possible.
"Bang! Bang! Bang... Bam!"
When I reached the last stall, the familiar "thud-thud" sound appeared again.
"Strange. This door is locked?" As everyone knows, bathroom stall doors can only be locked from the inside. I signaled the three kids to step back and tapped my right foot lightly.
"What are you doing?"
"Bam!" A loud crash echoed through the experimental building as I kicked the door open.
Pointing the camera into the stall, I was startled by what I saw, though it wasn't a ghost.
On the toilet sat a plush toy with its head torn off.
Brushing off the dust, I zoomed in with the camera. "Looks like something from ages ago."
The toy's head had been snipped off with scissors, exposing the tattered stuffing inside. Upon closer inspection, I noticed two faint Chinese characters written on the toy's belly.
"Xue Fei, what are you looking at?" Xiumu and Xue Fei leaned over.
"It's nothing—just a piece of junk," I replied, keeping a straight face and tossing it aside. "Shen Meng isn't here. Let's keep looking. Time's running out; we can't waste it."
Leaving the first-floor bathroom, we climbed to the second floor. On the way up, Xiumu counted the steps. To his disappointment, there were only twelve—no extra one.
Most of the second-floor classrooms were locked, except for the music room and the infirmary.
The two rooms were far apart. Holding the camera, I pushed open the infirmary door first. Rows of beds were separated by curtains, tightly drawn to conceal the beds.
"Iodine, alcohol, reagents…" The cabinet by the entrance was cluttered with medical supplies. Used yellowish-brown bandages littered the floor, and further in were scattered medical records.
Bending down to pick one up, I found most were dated five years ago. The papers had been gnawed by rats, and the handwriting was blurry. The name section, however, faintly showed the name "Guo Junjie."
"Seems like this kid was a regular here. Not only did he suffer mental torment, but he was also frequently physically abused." Surprisingly, all the records' photographs had been torn off, as if the child's appearance was a closely guarded secret of the school.
"Minor ear injury, slight fracture of the pinky finger, multiple bruises on the thighs…" Though the injuries recorded on each sheet were minor, their repeated and concentrated occurrence on one person spoke volumes.
"Bullies prey on the weak. If you don't resist and silently endure, they'll only escalate their actions."
I drew back a curtain. Bloodstains on the dilapidated beds were shocking.
Though the blood had long dried and darkened, fusing with the bed sheets, the sight was still unsettling.
"What happened here? Why so much blood?"
Searching the cabinets, I finally found the most recent record.
"Fall from a height. Pelvis shattered. Massive internal bleeding. Skull fracture…" The symptoms reminded me of an urban legend about Xinhu High School: Before the school was completely shut down, multiple students had reportedly jumped to their deaths.
The records in the cabinets indirectly confirmed that the suicides weren't rumors. Staring at the blood-stained beds, I couldn't make sense of it.
A normal school would isolate the scene of a suicide, then call the police and medical services. Moving the bodies to the infirmary was unheard of.
Reviewing more records, my expression grew grave.
"The deaths weren't isolated incidents." Before the school closed, at least five students had jumped to their deaths—these were just the documented cases. Excluding the hidden ones, the true number was likely much higher.
"Academic pressure? Romantic disputes?" I shook my head. "The collective deaths follow a peculiar pattern, almost as if prearranged."
With the passage of time, the writing was smudged. I could only half-read, half-guess: "A coincidence? Or…"
"Host, what happened to these students?" The five years that had passed were enough to obscure the truth. The incomplete records had missing names, leaving only black-and-white photos.
"The cause of death is the key to unraveling the mystery. We might need to stay in this infirmary longer." Pulling back another curtain, I found another rotting blood-soaked bed sheet.
As I lifted the decayed sheet, I discovered a school uniform bundled inside.
Braving the stench, I laid the uniform flat on the bed. "Wang Xiu?"
The badge pinned to the uniform bore a name made up of three characters, though the last one was too blurred to decipher.
After uncovering several more beds, I reached the last one. As I grabbed the curtain, I felt something brush against me from inside.
"Shen Meng?" Stepping back, I was sure there was something hidden inside.
I turned my phone's flashlight to its maximum brightness. The curtain edge bounced slightly, as if something alive was struggling within.
"Is that you? Say something!" No response came. Approaching cautiously, I grasped the edge of the curtain.
Ding, ding, ding!
Suddenly, the sharp notes of a piano rang out from the far end of the corridor. Startled, my hand trembled, and I didn't pull the curtain back.
Picking up the camera, I rushed toward the source of the sound. After I left, silence fell over the infirmary—except for the last bed, where a plastic mannequin hand slowly extended out.
"What's going on?" Gasping for breath, I reached the end of the hallway. The three kids were gathered around a piano. "Was it you playing just now?"
"Ask him! It's all his doing!" Xue Fei pushed Xiumu toward me.
Xiumu looked aggrieved. "You're really blaming me this time? I didn't touch the piano at all."
"Arin and I were in the corridor. You were the only one in the room. If it wasn't you, then what? The piano played itself?" Xue Fei grabbed Xiumu by the collar.
Xiumu's feet dangled as he protested stubbornly, "It wasn't me! There's definitely something else in this room!"
"Bullshit! I'm telling you, if we don't find Shen Meng tonight, you're not going back either!"
"Stop arguing. Xiumu might not have been the one playing." Clutching the camera, my palms were drenched in sweat. "All four of us are in this room now. But hold your breath and listen closely…"
From the hallway outside, footsteps drew nearer, growing increasingly distinct.
"It's Shen Meng!" Xue Fei let go of Xiumu and dashed toward the door.
I reached out to stop him but missed.
"Shen Meng, you're back?" The footsteps stopped at the door, and Xue Fei looked up, full of hope—only to see a distorted plastic mannequin head crookedly poking into the room!
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein