My Healing Games

Chapter 699 Our Photos

Everything changed too quickly; Han Fei and the old man were not prepared before the room went completely dark.

They held their breath, staring at the still-rolling head in front of the bedroom door.

"The child's mother, I think I've found her..." When Han Fei looked back, the old lady had already knelt on the ground. She clasped her hands together, knelt towards the bedroom, and murmured words of pleading, hoping that the thing on her grandson's body could leave.

The room, shrouded in a chilling wind, coupled with the old man's constant prayers, seemed to possess a mysterious force that wanted to drag everything into the unknown darkness.

The talisman on the door fell to the ground, and the trembling door suddenly returned to normal.

The metal doorknob slowly turned downwards, and the door, covered with talismans, was opened.

Han Fei's gaze was fixed on the crack in the door. His heart, which was filled with names, suddenly pounded. He felt as if his soul was being drawn to something, and his body involuntarily wanted to move forward.

A sharp pain shot through the back of my head, fragments of memories collided haphazardly in my mind, and the long-forgotten fear of death resurfaced.

Han Fei could clearly hear the pounding of his heart. His gaze was completely drawn to the darkness behind the crack in the door. It was as if his soul had been dragged onto a train speeding through a dark tunnel, heading straight for the abyss of death.

"Who's behind that door!"

The head, covered in batter, bumped into the wall. The nearby yellow paper talisman fell off, revealing a simple crayon drawing on the wall. A brightly colored child was playing inside. He was disliked by his mother and beaten by his father. He was running around, chasing after his bloodied and mangled friend. He ran and jumped, and when they were covered in wounds, they hugged each other and told fairy tales.

The pictures beneath the yellow paper talismans were colorful, cute, and humorous, like a child singing.

The music box jingled as it was opened, and children drawn with crayons ran around on the wall beneath the yellow paper talismans.

He danced and played hide-and-seek with his bloodied and mangled friends. This house was his paradise, a small paradise filled with absurdity, violence, and gloom.

More and more yellow papers are falling, revealing a distorted childhood hidden beneath the veneer of reality and ignorance.

The temperature dropped lower and lower, and the child on the wall ran faster and faster, as if inviting Han Fei to come inside and play together.

His palms were covered in curses, and a series of sharp pains kept reminding Han Fei of this. By the time he realized what was happening, he had already arrived at the bedroom door.

"I haven't felt this dazed in a long time..."

It would be difficult to sway Han Fei's willpower, and he couldn't explain exactly what had just happened.

The everyday scenes drawn by children on the walls contrasted sharply with the eerie objects throughout the room. The children on the walls seemed to welcome him, while the ugly statues inside blinked when he turned around.

The children's drawings reflect the reality they see and their inner world. The statues of gods are majestic and solemn, representing the dull reality in the eyes of adults, as well as their constraints and suppression.

Han Fei's Adam's apple bobbed, and he heard all sorts of noises around him, like someone chanting scriptures, or someone repeating strange syllables, or someone calling for help.

The old woman, her face covered in incantations, knelt in the living room, muttering words no one could understand. She was only a few steps away from Han Fei, yet it felt as if there was a great distance between them.

"It seems there's no going back."

The darkness behind the crack in the door carried a mysterious power, like tiny hands gripping the heart, slowly pulling a normal, living person inside.

The former child number four may have been slowly destroyed in this way, slowly locked in the darkness of the bedroom, and never able to come out again.

When Han Fei first entered the building, he thought he wouldn't encounter anything too dangerous. After all, the No. 4 apartment building was only so big, and it couldn't possibly be filled with obsessions and ghosts like a plastic surgery hospital. But as it turned out, he was very wrong.

For a child whose mind is not yet mature, a room may be a world he cannot escape, an object can cause him fear, and a wardrobe can bring him suffocating despair.

Grasp the doorknob and slowly push it forward. Behind the door, the bedroom is filled with all sorts of crayon drawings, hiding all of a child's nightmares and fears.

Despair became a singing sprite, eyes grew on Dad's belt, and Mom's cosmetics turned into precious human organs that would shatter at the slightest touch.

Each floor tile is marked with a question and an answer. Every step you take in this room must be taken with extreme caution, as incorrect answers will result in punishment and scolding.

The heavy curtains seemed to be filled with lead, making them impossible for an ordinary person to open or close easily.

The bed was covered with black thorns, and the corpses of various insects were hidden under the bed. A huge doll was lying on the side of the bed pretending to be asleep. She had long hair and bright, large eyes made of buttons, but because her head and shoulders were sewn together, she could not look down and could not see the child who was weaker and more in need of protection than herself.

Her white body was covered in cheap cosmetics. She had a fragrant skin, but from the gaps in her torn skin, it was clear that her body was full of dead small animals.

The ding-dong sound rang out again, and the children's little playground opened for business. The patterns on the walls came to life, and the children played happily with their bloodied and mangled friends until the doorbell rang.

Han Fei glanced behind him. The room had changed completely. All the talismans and statues were gone, and the living room looked like a bedroom. He felt like he was trapped in the nightmare of Child Number Four.

The cat downstairs was giving birth, making strange noises. The gecko upstairs peeked out, but they only looked; none of them had the guts to break the glass.

The doorbell rang more and more urgently, and the person outside the security door gradually lost patience and began to pound on the door frantically. He pounded harder and harder, and the metal door trembled more and more violently.

"If the doll represents the mother, does the person outside the door represent the father?"

The cat struggling to give birth and the voyeuristic gecko seem like indifferent neighbors; everything in the child's eyes is different from reality, yet somehow connected to it.

After a long, frantic knocking, the metal door was finally opened.

The dull thud of leather shoes on the floor was somewhat frightening. Han Fei turned to look at the living room, where an enormous shadow loomed in from the doorway.

Number Four's father appears, representing darkness and repression, a lingering shadow in Number Four's heart.

The enormous body scraped against the crayon drawings on the wall. Han Fei reacted quickly; he tried to pull the red rope, but after clenching his fists, he found that the red rope was no longer there, and he touched the cold fingers of a small child.

Turning his head, Han Fei looked at his arm in surprise.

He didn't know when he had turned into a child in tattered clothes, and he smelled bad, like the stench of festering wounds.

"Oh!"

The security door slammed shut. Before Han Fei could even process when he had been tricked, he saw a middle-aged man reeking of a foul stench emerge from the massive shadow.

His eyes were always bloodshot, his face was ferocious, devoid of any compassion, like a demon.

After removing his vomit-stained clothes, the man's body almost blended into the shadows. He took a step forward and grabbed Han Fei by the neck.

For a moment, Han Fei truly felt the threat of death, but soon, the shadowy man saw the brand-new internal organs on the puppet table.

He forcefully threw Han Fei to the ground, grabbed the corner of the table with both hands, and overturned the dressing table.

Those organs were screaming, and strangely, all the screams came from another man.

Upon hearing that sound, Number Four's father became even angrier. He crushed the organs on the ground and grabbed a few of them, stuffing them into the doll's body.

The long-haired doll waved her hands, but her strength was no match for the man's. She wanted to shout, but as a doll, she had no mouth.

The man tore open the doll's belly and pressed the broken organs back into it. Not satisfied with that, he then stuffed his own head into the doll's body and began to tear at it.

Han Fei no longer wanted to think about the symbolism of these scenes; he quietly ran towards the kitchen.

Number Four provided the answer from the very beginning: how to do it.

Regardless of right or wrong, many tragedies occur in corners where indulgence is tolerated and no one notices. Unfortunately, these past events cannot be changed. Han Fei now only wants to change the tragedies that may happen in the future.

Having shrunk considerably, Han Fei picked up the kitchen knives and walked back to the bedroom door.

The doll on the bed had its belly torn apart, and strips of cloth fell onto the animal carcass. Her hands were gripping the shadow's neck, but she couldn't stop it.

Slowing down, Han Fei tried his best to remain silent as he quietly circled around to the man's back.

As a hunter who hunts predators, he knew exactly how to kill with a single blow, but Number Four didn't understand any of that. He may have spent countless nights practicing, hesitating, and trying until he finally transformed himself into a complete monster!

Move forward, find the right angle, press your body down, and use your weight to stab the knife!

“The old lady said that her son was bitten to death by number four. What I am doing now is something he could not do but wanted to do.”

With his fragmented memory, Han Fei made a choice in this absurd and insane nightmare. He felt very uncomfortable, but this was probably the fastest way to end the nightmare.

The horror of this place is hard to describe. In fact, some of the scenes would break an ordinary person just by looking at them. Only a player like him, who has been tested in the deep world, can remain calm.

Han Fei adopted the child's perspective and accomplished what he couldn't. The father, the source of despair, was stabbed, his rotting heart and the shadows surrounding him contracted rapidly, and black blood splattered all over Han Fei and the puppet.

Han Fei, who was used to finishing off the monster, did not stop there. He wanted to draw his dagger and cut off the monster's head, but the enraged man did not give him a chance and reached out to grab him.

The sharp fingertips pierced Han Fei's skin. An ordinary child would probably have been terrified, but Han Fei completely embraced the role of Number Four, behaving like a mad beast at that moment. He even took the initiative to bite the man's neck.

When faced with fear and despair, the incredibly powerful man became cowardly. Just like in reality, he was caught off guard and had his neck firmly bitten by Han Fei.

No matter how much he pulled and punched, Han Fei refused to give in.

In fact, Han Fei knew better than anyone else that this might be his only chance.

Number Four's nightmare is to make everyone experience his despair and pain, and then sink into this place. Han Fei, on the other hand, decisively uses the method that Number Four uses to fight back in reality to determine the winner.

He endured the beatings, abuse, and torture, but the shadow of the man gradually faded away.

Before biting the man to death, Number Four lived in fear that the man brought him. After crushing that fear, he went to the other extreme and became a symbol of death and misfortune among the thirty-one orphans.

Black blood poured into his mouth and soaked his clothes. When the man was too weak to support himself, Han Fei stepped on his back to stand up.

The plush toys on the bed threw various items at Han Fei, their disgust and fear clearly expressed without words.

“It’s your turn…” The battered Han Fei pulled out his dagger and walked toward the puppet. He hesitated for a moment, but in the end, reason led him to make the second choice.

Han Fei didn't know what memories the maniacal laughter had taken from his mind, but his intuition told him that he probably wouldn't have done this before.

As Han Fei stabbed the doll's cheek with his dagger amidst the black blood, the thick curtains on the bedroom window frame all fell to the ground.

Dust swirled, and the blood-red moonlight shone on Han Fei. He stopped what he was doing and looked out the window.

Outside the glass window was a huge red eyeball, and it seemed as if a monster as tall as the apartment was constantly staring at Han Fei.

Han Fei vaguely remembered seeing a similar scene before. Before he could react further, he heard the sound of glass shattering.

A scarred finger reached into the room and pressed against Han Fei's head as if crushing an insect.

"So you haven't let go of your mother yet."

The finger pierced straight through Han Fei's skull and into his mind. Nothing could stop it, and all the memories it touched were shattered.

Just as the finger was about to completely crush Han Fei's consciousness, it touched a small fragment of a memory.

The image shows a group photo of thirty orphans. The photo was given to Han Fei by a painter in a midnight shopping mall, and it was also the first D-level cursed item that Han Fei obtained.

A giant finger hovers over the photograph, as if caressing the faces of the children.

His bloodshot eyes blinked, shattering the nightmare that had trapped Han Fei. At the same time, thousands of curses crawled all over Han Fei's body, completely protecting him.

Han Fei's vision returned to normal; he had emerged from the nightmare of number four, and he remained standing at the bedroom door.

Why do you have...our photos?

The child's innocent voice came from inside the house; his tone sounded very gentle.

(End of this chapter)