Congratulations on Your Successful Escape

Chapter 118

Mo Yi’s eyes narrowed slightly, his dark pupils staring thoughtfully at the marks on the door that had been knocked open, before he exerted more force with his palm.

The door opened silently to the inside and the gloomy darkness poured out from within.

He shone the flashlight in his hand towards the door, and the pale beam of light pierced through the dark and dusty room, revealing hazy silhouettes.

Both the corridor and the room were dead silent.

Mo Yi held his breath and subconsciously tightened his fingers holding the flashlight. He took a step forward, into the room.

As he moved deeper into the room, he found that those blurred outlines were slowly being revealed under the light, becoming more vivid.

Mo Yi moved his wrist slowly, his gaze sweeping around the room as it followed the movement of his flashlight. But the more he looked around, the more alarmed he felt—

This room… It seemed to be an execution room.

The surrounding cold walls framed a small and closed space. There were no windows or wallpaper on the bare walls, revealing only a dirty iron-grey wall stained with large dark brown spots which appeared to be dried blood.

There are all kinds of strange-shaped iron tools scattered on the walls and ground, with their sharp edges clad in reddish-brown rust marks and dark brown blood stains, making people uncomfortable to even entertain thoughts about what and how these tools had been used.

The room was also filled with a strange smell that could not be ignored. It seemed to be a mix of the stale stench of blood that had been sealed for a long time, and the pungent smell of strong disinfectant.

Mo Yi frowned and looked around the room. Raising his wrist, he shone the light in his hand at the end of the room, only to see that there seemed to be a door in the darkness.

He walked carefully around the iron torture instruments piled up on the ground and towards the door deep in the room.

The door was ajar. Mo Yi shook the flashlight trained on the ground, and its bright beam of light flashed across the floor—there were brand new traces on the dusty ground, so this door should have just been opened recently.

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Mo Yi took a deep breath and then pushed on the door with a little force at his fingertips.

A scent of blood so uncomfortably thick that it almost condensed into a solid body rushed towards his face in an instant. It was such an astonishingly strong smell of rust, as if there was a mountain of corpses and a sea of ??blood hidden behind this door.

Mo Yi coughed a few times and forced himself to suppress the discomfort in his stomach, before furrowing his brows as he stared into the darkness in front of him intently.

There were countless pale limbs winding up and down in the darkness, reflecting the pale light from his flashlight.

Semi-coagulated blood was flowing between the overlapping limbs. The sharp contrast in colour of the deep dark red liquid against the pale skin was so vivid that it almost hurt Mo Yi’s eyes.

In the room were piles of similarly mutilated corpses, their heads and feet overlapping and limbs scattered messily, and the huge wounds on them revealing bright red muscles and white bones underneath, which made the sight seem like a sickly twisted oil painting.

Mo Yi’s frown tightened. The sensation of despair and the acrid smell of blood in this room was suffocating.

He promptly covered his mouth and nose with his hands. His face was pale and solemn. Next, his gaze fell on the pile of corpses for about half a second before he averted it.

He swept his flashlight slowly across the room.

Mo Yi quickly discovered some signs of incongruity in the room—some of the corpses were obviously turned over, their broken and mutilated limbs were thrown to the side and there were also some blurry footprints in the pool of blood on the ground.

He took several steps forward. There was the sensation and sound of him stepping on half-clotted blood, which was extraordinarily loud in the dark and closed room. Mo Yi shifted, changing his angle, and looked peered towards the separated pile of corpses.

Within the pool of blood was an incomplete cabinet which was half-fallen on the ground. Snow-white pieces of paper spilled out of the cabinet, scattering on the dark red and viscous blood, which stained the edges of the paper with irregular smudges.

It looked like something someone had messily turned over.

Mo Yi moved over to pick up the nearest piece of paper from the ground, and skimmed its contents hastily under the light.

It was a medical record. Most of the writing on it was unreadable due to the dark red blood on the ground. Mo Yi moved his fingers slightly, and the patient’s name at the top of the page was revealed.

It was a familiar name: Edwin Carter.

Mo Yi was taken aback. He raised his legs to avoid the dead bodies lying on the ground, and walked further into the room to pick up another piece of paper on the broken cabinet.

It was much older than the one just now. Its edges were dark yellow and there were scattered mildew spots in the middle of the bloodstains.

But what caught Mo Yi’s attention was the blurred blood fingerprints on the side of the paper—it seemed that they had just been printed on it.

The thicker stench of blood and the damp smell of corpses was still lingering at the end of his nose. Mo Yi frowned, avoiding the lifeless pale wrists of the bodies and their bluish white and purple stiff fingers, and carefully examined the paper in his hand.

This was still a medical record.

The handwriting on it was blurred due to the age and it was difficult to read under the light—

It seemed to be a diagnostic record. The specific type of mental illness and patient information could no longer be seen, only the doctor’s signature at the bottom of the page was still visible—Edwin Carter.

Mo Yi frowned slowly, and subconsciously rubbed the rough paper with his fingertips, his lips taut.

Before Edwin was diagnosed with a dissociative disorder, he used to be a psychiatrist, which could explain why there were all those inhumane methods of treating mental illness on -3F. However, what about the other two floors? Especially this torture room here on this floor…

He turned his body to the side to avoid the half-outstretched pale sole, and continued walking into the room to reach for another piece of paper lying on the ground.

At this very moment, Mo Yi’s movements suddenly stopped, and he seemed to catch some vague sound in his ears—

It seemed to be the sound of something cracking, or the sound of something peeling off the wall.

It also felt as though there had been some dust that had fallen on the face, making him a little itchy.

Mo Yi raised his head subconsciously. His gaze met a pair of light blue cloudy eyes. The bloodshot eye sockets were wide open, with half of the eyeball very nearly rolling entirely out of the eye socket, and Mo Yi could almost see the brightly coloured optic nerve inside.

A fine layer of cold sweat broke out on his back, but before he could do anything, the pale hand he’d passed by earlier grabbed the corner of his clothes.

The whole pile of corpses started squirming slowly.

The mutilated limbs overlapping one after another moved as if they’d regained life, letting out a series of creepy and horrifying sounds of limbs rubbing and bones colliding in the darkness.

Mo Yi was terrified. He reacted instantly, retreating away from the pile of corpses.

The pale limbs protruding in a slanted angle stretched towards him, trying to grab his wrists and angles, trying to make him sink into the pile of dirty bloody corpses exuding the breath of death and decay.

Mo Yi struggled desperately, his heart beating like a drum in his chest, almost leaping out of his throat.

At this moment, he seemed to have stepped on a severed limb in a pool of blood. His foot slipped, and with his body unstable, he promptly fell backwards.

Despite feeling dizzy by the fall, Mo Yi took advantage of the momentum and gritted his teeth as he rolled out of the pile of corpses!

With this one move, he actually broke through the wave of those limbs. His body hit one of the walls.

Mo Yi braced himself on the wall and climbed to his feet. His body was covered with dust and blood, painting a terribly pathetic sight. He turned his head and glanced at the pile of corpses behind him.

Under the flickering light of the flashlight, he could see that the pale limbs were still squirming in the darkness, struggling to move towards him.

Mo Yi’s heart clenched. He sprang towards the ajar door behind him and rushed out, then turned around and slammed the door shut, closing the door on the strong smell of blood from the broken limbs.

As a result, the smell of blood in the air became lighter again, and was taken over by the stale smell of dust.

Mo Yi pressed a hand firmly against the trembling door. His chest was heaving and the cold sweat on his back glued his shirt to it, bringing a chill to him. Mo Yi randomly grabbed a stick-shaped iron tool and used it like a makeshift latch to bar the door.

Then he let go of his hands and took a few steps back slowly while panting.

Although the door was still trembling, it was obviously much more stable now, and he estimated that it would not be knocked open for at least a while more.

Mo Yi moved his wrist and let out a slight ‘hiss’. Glancing down, he saw a deep bright red handprint on his thin and pale wrist, with a shocking shade of blue around the edges.

It seemed that he had been grabbed by one of the corpses during the struggle just now

He took a deep breath, shook his hand indifferently, then used the flashlight to shine one last time on the door he was stuck on.

The door stood silently in the darkness, no longer moving.

Mo Yi touched the deep imprint on his wrist with some regret—it was a pity that he didn’t see the content on the innermost piece of paper just now. He felt that it was a key clue in this instance, and was the final piece he needed to unravel the puzzle of this instance.

But… why did those corpses suddenly start to move?

And that strange sound he’d heard before they started moving…

Mo Yi frowned slowly, and then stared at the room he was in. For some reason… He had the feeling that something was different in this room.

He pursed his lips, a guess welling up in his heart.

Mo Yi strode towards the outside of the room. Just as he opened the door, the scene in the corridor made him slightly startled.

—The corridor had changed drastically. The dull green wallpaper pasted all over the corridor had become old and dirty. Deep cracks stretched along corners of the wall up to the ceiling, looking like spider webs, while dust and broken wall plaster were falling down and leaving bits and pieces on the torn and greasy carpet.

This entire corridor seemed to have experienced an earthquake, or perhaps another fifty years of age.

It almost gave Mo Yi a feeling as if he had been transported to yet another time.