Chapter 9 A Strange Encounter "I was terrified, extremely terrified, every single day..."
Half an hour later, two nurses came in again with a medicine cart. I cooperated with the nurses and took the medicine, as obedient as a kitten.
I knew that if I didn't behave well, my discharge from the hospital would be a long way off.
I fell asleep again after taking the medicine.
I haven't had any dreams since.
Finally, I enjoyed a short period of peace, without castles, nightmares, or stench.
Two weeks later, my mom and dad came to see me a few times, and I spoke and acted normally.
Another month passed, and because of my excellent performance, I was approved for discharge.
As I sat in the black car that picked me up, looking out the window at the white building of the mental hospital, I had a strange feeling of being in another world.
The scenery outside the car window rushed past me, and I covered my mouth with one hand to pretend to cough, once again trying to suppress the urge to cry.
Are nightmares and hell truly gone from my life? I don't know.
When I got home, I learned that I had been missing for five hours in the mental hospital.
One morning, the nurses found me missing from my hospital bed and searched everywhere before finally finding me in an abandoned basement of the hospital.
I was unconscious for two days and was kept alive with saline solution.
Two days have passed here, while I've spent several months there.
The mother wiped away her tears and said, "You have no idea how worried we were. Fortunately, the doctor said you'll be fine once you wake up."
Dad said, "Don't say anything more, it's good that Lana is back."
I grunted in agreement and slipped into my room.
While helping my mom cook lunch, I asked about my cousin. My mom, while chopping vegetables, replied, "She was sent to study in England by your aunt last month."
"Studying?" I asked casually, washing tomatoes. "Didn't she graduate from university?"
“Go pursue a master’s degree. Your aunt says that a girl’s best dowry is her education, and a higher education makes it easier to marry well.”
In the afternoon, I opened my laptop and tried to contact my cousin via WeChat, but I didn't receive a reply.
I started calling my cousin's cell phone again, but no one answered when the call went through.
After thinking about it, I wrote an email to my cousin. After clicking "send," I sighed, knowing it would be another futile effort.
I became unusually silent. My parents didn't dare to upset me; although they didn't know what had happened, they showed me the utmost leniency.
I took a leave of absence from school and spent all my time in the library in the city center.
I only feel safe when I'm in a crowded reading room and don't have to explain what's going on to others.
One day, I accidentally saw a book about toilet drainage pipes and sewage drainage pipes. I couldn't help but flip through it. I even thought that it would be great if the people over there had our drainage system too, so they could dispose of sewage and at least I wouldn't have to carry manure every day.
If the sewage is not cleaned regularly, the outlet of the moat will easily become blocked, making it impossible to discharge the sewage into the sea.
Looking at the detailed and professional pictures of drainage pipes, I suddenly had a strong urge to borrow the book back.
In fact, I did just that and borrowed both books to take home.
Late at night, under the lamp, I opened the book to page T and was surprised to find that I could actually understand it. You see, I used to be a complete science idiot, unable to even understand the instructions for installing a router, but now I can miraculously understand such a professional book.
I muttered to myself, "Did I become smarter after going out? Or was I given a reward because I helped someone?"
I started writing my experiences into a novel and posting excerpts on Weibo.
My initial intention was simply to release my pent-up emotions, but I never expected it to become so popular.
I was surprised to find that my Weibo account had gained quite a few followers and comments in the past month:
Where is this story serialized?
When can I see the full text?
My number of followers, which had remained unchanged for years, suddenly jumped to the hundreds, which almost brought tears to my eyes.
Before going to bed that day, I received a private message with a strange ID name: "Castle Maid".
The name made my heart skip a beat, and I opened the private message.
Hello, I've had a similar experience to you. Would you like to talk about it?
I immediately replied: 【What was your experience?】
She replied instantly: 【Black Castle.】
My heart suddenly started racing, and I clutched my chest tightly, taking a long time to calm down.
That evening, we arranged to meet at a coffee shop near my home. Less than a few minutes after we sat down, the glass door of the coffee shop opened, and a long-haired girl in a Chanel-style short skirt rushed in.
I was almost immediately certain that she was the castle's maid.
Because her face was as pale as mine, and her eyes held a deep-seated fear—just like mine back then.
She recognized me at a glance and went straight to sit down opposite me.
"Hello, I'm the little maid who sent you the private message." She took out a thin, tattered book and spoke to me like an old acquaintance. "I searched for a long time before finding this at the National Library of America. Can you read English?"
"What's written in the book?" I asked back, just like an old acquaintance.
"A book of strange tales."
"Tales of the Strange? America has tales of the strange?"
"It's not necessarily from the United States, I don't know which country it's from, but it's written in English."
She then asked, "Can you read English?"
"I don't quite understand it." I can understand the simple parts, but not the complex ones.
“I can translate for you. I desperately need to prove that my experiences are true. I have been suffering from severe insomnia for three years and have been diagnosed with paranoia by multiple psychiatrists and psychologists.”
I stared at her pale face in disbelief.
“Three years ago, I was a freshman at Yale, majoring in anthropology. A few classmates and I went to Africa to interview a primitive tribe that was on the verge of disappearing for a research project. In a cave that the locals called the dwelling place of the gods, I disappeared for five hours.”
Hearing this, I was shocked. Five hours—exactly the same amount of time I disappeared from the mental hospital!
As she continued, "During those five hours, my classmates called the police, who searched the cave thoroughly, but found no trace of me. Unexpectedly, five hours later, I suddenly appeared in the bushes outside the cave, lying unconscious. My classmates all thought I was just asleep, and since the bushes were so thick, they couldn't find me immediately, but actually..."
She suddenly covered her mouth and began to cry softly, unable to speak.
I added, "But actually, it's like you suddenly find yourself in a dark castle, where you have to work every day, scattering feed, cleaning the iron cages, wiping the corridors, and carrying buckets of manure..."
“Yes,” she continued, crying, “I was later made into a meat pie. Although I was thrown into boiling water and lost consciousness, I knew I was definitely made into a meat pie.”
I trembled with shock. So she'd been thrown into boiling water too, and even after being turned into mincemeat, she could return to the real world, like a game over that could start over. If I'd known this, should I have just been thrown into the boiling water from the start? But I'm afraid of the pain.
“I was terrified, extremely terrified. Every day felt like I was in a concentration camp where Jews were imprisoned, like an accomplice of the Nazis.”
It felt exactly the same as me! My hands started to tremble slightly.
She closed her eyes and recalled, "I was terrified at the time, searching everywhere for information, hoping to understand what was going on, until I found this book."
“I also have a comic book,” I said. “Some pages were blank, but after I found the original comic book at the bottom of the moat, I bit my index finger, and the blood automatically generated images on the white paper. So I redraw them and posted them online.”
She said, "It seems everyone has their own destiny." She placed the tattered book on the table into my hands. "I'll email you the translated text tomorrow. I'm a little excited today."
"Okay." "Okay." I opened the old, yellowed book, which was covered with dense English text.
The next day, however, I did not receive an email from the girl.
I sent her a WeChat message, only to find that I had been deleted.
I tried calling her cell phone again, but it was switched off.
I sent her a message on Taobao's messaging platform, but there was no reply.
Just as I was wondering what was going on, my phone chimed, notifying me that I had received a new email.
I opened it immediately. It was an unfamiliar email with only one line: "This is my nightmare, and I don't want to mention it to anyone again. Every time I do, it feels like reliving it all. Goodbye!"
What does that mean? My mind went completely blank.
A week later, the translator I had hired at great expense sent me the translation via email.
The first line after opening the email reads: "This is the story of an ancient family."
I was a little scared and didn't dare to watch any longer.
It wasn't until ten days later that I mustered the courage to print out the entire translated email and lean against the headboard to read it. I had only intended to skim through it casually, but I ended up completely engrossed and spent the whole night reading it.
I closed my eyes only when the morning sunlight dyed the curtains red and dappled the floor with light.
This is a particularly peculiar, particularly extravagant, and exceptionally long story—
Long ago, there was a secluded island in the sea. On the island was a treacherous cliff, and on the cliff stood a black castle.
The queen in the castle is ill. She has been frail since childhood and rarely goes out; listening to the roar of the waves is her only form of entertainment.
One day, an extremely terrible storm occurred at sea.
After the storm, a castle cook found a large wooden barrel that had drifted ashore on the beach. He brought the barrel back to the castle, intending to use it for storing wine, but was astonished to find a young man and woman unconscious inside. They were handsome and had beautiful silver hair.
A note from the author:
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