Then something came to me. Why did the killer write the stories? If it was just to tell the other personas, then they could have written it down on a paper. Furthermore, I noticed that the personas could communicate with each other. So why this extra step?
And everything was planned by the uncle persona, but why? Someone as clever as him should know that the police would find the stories, so why did he release them on the internet? If he didn’t write those stories, the killer would have absconded with the bowls already.
A bad feeling rose within me. I believed there was something behind this case that we didn’t know. I wanted to summon out the uncle persona. I turned to the killer. She had pulled out the paper and pencil to start to draw. He was 1.7 meters tall and 20 years old but he acted like a little girl. He pouted his lips and knelt on the ground with the paper placed before him. He hummed happily as he sketched. Seeing that, I didn’t have the heart to interrupt her. The only sound was the sound of the pencil scratching on the paper. I stood up to observe the killer’s painting. The killer was a very good painter. I knew that if she wanted, she could paint better than the ones on the bowls. However, that was not the killer’s goal. She copied the animals on the bowls stroke by stroke.
After the killer was done with one animal, she didn’t stand up but continued to slide on the ground to the next bowl. The killer was very serious. Once she completed the 12 paintings, her mother would return. However, the other personas and I knew that wouldn’t happen. 15 years, she was fixed on the same thing. Thankfully time was frozen for her. However, the other personas had been troubled by this for 15 years. They had accompanied the main persona to complete this hopeless ordeal for 15 years, and now it was reaching the end.
Currently, I only had the jacket from the cleaner to cover myself. I couldn’t even find the phone provided by the killer. Time ticked by. I glanced at the killer’s watch. It was already 6 o clock. The killer had completed six animals.
I was anxious. If this continued, she would be done by 7. However, the uncle told me that the bed would fold at 7. Therefore, I had to make sure that the killer finished her painting before 6.30. That way, I still had time to call Gu Chen.
An image appeared in my mind. In the deep dark underground, Guan Zhenglin was tied to the bed. There was no sound, no, there might be the skittering of rats. The camera had stopped flashing. She screamed but no one could hear her. She was buried alive, helpless, and alone. The weather got colder, but Guan Zhenglin was naked. The frost ate at her skin. The machine of her bed started to move as it folded into itself. Guan Zhenglin was folded together like snapped chopsticks. Guan Zhenglin was afraid of the dark, so she must be very scared.
With that thought, my heart became leaden. It was a very complicated feeling, and I had only felt it from two people. One was Guan Zhenglin, and the other was Zhao Mingkun, but they were mortal enemies. I didn’t know how to describe it but if I had the choice to trade my life for Guan Zhenglin’s, I would.
Now I could only pray that Gu Chen had found Guan Zhenglin. To hide from the other villagers, Wu Xiufen offered to build the activity centre. But in reality she had built an underground bunker and this place had to be at Xing Dong Village.
The surrounding was quiet until I heard a weak siren. I looked at the killer, she was still drawing quietly. She didn’t hear the siren. I heard it. After all, I woke up to this sound daily. It was the police siren. However, I had no idea if the police car was just passing or they had found this place. We were underground, so the signal was blocked off. However, Captain Lee could find the last location where the signal was found. So it might be Captain Lee’s people.
It was already 6.30 but the killer was still moving slowly. She was very serious as she drew each line. The killer had all the time in the world, but I didn’t.
The last bowl, 6.40.
I was very anxious, but I knew I couldn’t interrupt the killer because if I did, Yama might appear. In that case, not only Guan Zhenglin, but I would also die. But if I didn’t ask the killer for Guan Zhenglin’s location by 7, she would be sliced through by her own knife.
Currently, I had two choices, ask for Guan Zhenglin’s location from the little girl; wait for the girl to finish and for the uncle to show up.
If I picked the first choice, there would be two outcomes. 1, the girl told me the truth; 2, Yama showed up to kill me. If I picked the second choice, there would be two outcomes too. 1, the girl finished her painting and gave me the address and we managed to save Guan Zhenglin in time; 2, the killer was done painting and told me the address, but Guan Zhenglin was already dead.
The four outcomes were all unknown. 50 percent chance of Guan Zhenglin to die. This was a very hard choice. But I was never one to leave fate to God. I needed to find out Guan Zhenglin’s location through the little girl. I needed to reach Gu Chen before 7.
“Hey, little girl.” I began. Perhaps I had startled her because her hand trembled. She suddenly reached for the bowl and slammed it on the ground. It was the chicken bowl with the tracer. Once the bowl touched the ground, the previous cracks split open again.
Air froze in that moment. I had predicted four outcomes, and this was not one of them. I said quickly, “I, I didn’t mean to startle you.” But when I said that, something was not right. I thought back to what happened. It was not me who caused this tragedy. When I spoke, the killer’s hands did tremble, but they didn’t knock the bowl over. Instead, it was the killer who deliberately picked up the bowl and slammed it to the ground.
If I had startled the little girl, then she might have accidentally knocked the bowl over but she didn’t. Instead, the killer had grabbed the bowl and slammed it against the ground. So the killer did that on purpose.
But why? The other personas existed to help the main persona so why break the bowl at the last moment? And who was this persona? At that moment, I really had no clue. I looked at the back of the killer dumbly. The killer knelt on the ground, and no one said anything. The tracer was blinking. It was not that bright, but it was clear in the dark. In my head, the sound of glass shattering was still ringing.
Suddenly the killer started to cry, and it was a child crying. It also sounded like a banshee wailing. The sound was wispy like it came from the sky or right beside your ear.
However, suddenly the crying turned into a wicked cackle. I was shocked. Yama had arrived, but then I listened to the voice and realized it wasn’t Yama. I finally recognized the voice. It was the uncle but why would the uncle be laughing? It was a long-suppressed laugh, like a child laughing after getting the toy that he had yearned for years.
My heart dropped. I suddenly understood what happened.
“What I want…”
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