Starting with dissecting ghost stories

Anning Street, No. 1 Garden, Unit 3, 8th floor, Room 802.

A boy was hiding in a room.

His room was a mess, with a lot of tools scattered on the floor. He was looking down, his bangs covering his eyes, as he was forcefully using duct tape to wrap a fruit knife and the wooden stick of a broom together.

On the desk in front of him were a baton, a switchblade, several bottles of red wine with their labels torn off, and a lighter.

The wine bottle wasn't emitting the aroma of wine, but rather a pungent smell similar to gasoline.

"Knock knock—"

Sweat dripped from the boy's forehead onto his hands. Upon hearing the knock, he screamed almost at the top of his lungs, "Don't make a sound!"

The knocking at the door stopped.

He was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently. Then, he stuffed the tied-up "spear" under the bed, making a few thumping sounds—there seemed to be quite a few of these homemade weapons under the bed.

The boy stuffed everything on the table into his backpack, put the switchblade in his pocket, and zipped it up.

He glanced around his room, a hint of fear and almost palpable hatred in his eyes.

The boy's room was filled with strange and terrifying black and crimson specks, as if he were inside the pixelated body of some monster.

He carried his schoolbag and slowly opened the door. As the wooden door was slowly pulled open, a twisted, black-bodied figure stood in the doorway. The "person," covered in noise and strange shadows, grinned and spread its arms towards him.

And from its mouth came hoarse, distorted sounds, like those from an old radio.

"Son...are you having dinner tonight...?"

"Don't touch me! Get out!" The boy practically shoved the person opposite him aside and strode toward the door. Not just his own room, but the walls and furniture throughout his entire house were twisted just like in the room.

His gaze paused when it fell upon the beautiful woman in the living room who was sprawled on the sofa with her phone in hand, legs crossed and swinging slightly, seemingly happily talking to someone.

The woman seemed to notice what was happening. She hung up her phone, turned around, looked at the boy, frowned slightly, and said somewhat unhappily, "Not coming home for dinner again tonight?"

"Sis... are you going out tonight?" The boy's voice was a little hoarse. He continued, "I told you, there are no normal people out there..."

"Lei, what's wrong with you is..." the woman said, sitting up with displeasure. "If you were more optimistic and had a better attitude towards others, they would treat you better in return... You've been so disobedient lately; you weren't like this before..."

The boy suddenly felt a dryness in his throat. He opened his mouth weakly, then closed it again. His gaze lingered on the woman's face for a few seconds before he slung his backpack over his shoulder, put on his shoes, and kicked the door open to leave.

He hurried downstairs, beads of sweat trickling down his slightly protruding Adam's apple and dripping onto the ground.

The boy pushed open the door of the apartment building. The sky outside was eerily dark, as if a sheet of paper that could absorb all light had covered the sky.

The outside world was a bloody mess.

Chaotic shadows roamed about, and terrifying behemoths roared and sped along the road paved with skeletons.

All he could smell was a nauseating, overwhelming stench of decay that made it almost impossible to fall asleep.

Two weeks ago, the world had completely changed to this state.

In this world, only he and his sister remain, and they are still normal people.

The boy clenched his fists tightly, feeling the pain as if his nails were digging into his palms.

Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting!

He didn't know why the world had become like this, and he didn't know why his equally normal sister couldn't see through the true face of this ugly world.

But he knew that his sister was perfectly normal. Anything she touched, any place she walked, or any monster she came into contact with—those disgusting things would be temporarily purified.

This world has gone mad; he won't let his sister be harmed by those monsters.

Even if there is only one person.

He also wanted to kill all these monsters.

He crouched at the entrance of the residential compound, moved his backpack to his chest and hugged it tightly, keeping a close eye on the exit of the compound.

After watching for more than an hour, a striking figure, standing out from the crowd, appeared at the door. She walked towards the left path, but after a few steps, she seemed to realize she had gone the wrong way, turned around, and turned to the right.

Her steps were light, her white dress fluttering, standing out starkly from the eerie atmosphere around her.

The boy stood up and followed at a distance.

The cacophony of hordes of monsters became the whispers in his mind. Every step he took felt like stepping on a sticky, viscous surface, and the pungent odors he constantly inhaled forced him to stay alert at all times.

After crossing a bridge spanning a large, gray river, the older sister seemed to have confirmed her destination and quickened her pace in a certain direction.

Is it finally almost here...?

The boy reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade, and held it in his palm. Two weeks of mental torture had brought him to the brink of collapse, and he spent almost every night in anxiety and fear.

He even considered suicide to end all this torment, but there were still people he had to protect.

Now, his sister is practically his only source of comfort.

Ahead, the older sister seemed to have spotted someone. She quickly ran towards a lumpy tree, looked up and smiled, her left hand behind her back and her right hand to her lips, chuckling softly as if she were chatting happily about something.

Damn it... monster...

"rub--"

He flipped the safety, and the switchblade in the boy's hand popped out with a crisp sound. He strode forward, starting as a jog and eventually sprinting at almost full speed.

The torment of the past two weeks had transformed into a near-neurotic rage and hatred, all contained in the knife in his hand.

The older sister seemed to hear hurried footsteps behind her, but before she could turn around, the boy bumped her away with his shoulder.

"Ah!" the older sister cried out in surprise and fell to the side.

One hand reached out and put its arm around the older sister's shoulder before she fell.

The figure that had been hidden by the fleshy tree now appeared before the boy's face.

A...person...man...

The man reacted quickly, taking two steps forward and almost kneeling, he caught the woman who was about to fall.

The boy stood frozen in place, and the switchblade in his hand fell to the concrete ground with a crisp "clink".

The handsome man in front of her helped her sister up, then looked at her, adjusted his glasses, gave her a faint smile, and asked, "May I ask who you are...?"

It turns out that besides myself and my sister, there are other normal humans in this world...

Shen Xing was slightly taken aback when he saw the boy's eyes.

Beneath his bangs, there were no eyeballs; only empty holes remained, filled with a dense network of honeycomb-like black pores. These black honeycombs seemed to be spreading deeper and deeper, all the way to his brain.

Were they infected at the same time and place as Wang Xinran, with the same symptoms?

Another weirdo?

What's wrong with me lately? Am I the only normal person around here?