Chapter 160
Zhu Zangmo stared blankly at the ward in front of him: "What is this place?"
He raised his voice towards the figure standing by the wall: "Hey, who are you?"
The figure behind him seemed not to have heard anything and did not even turn his head. He seemed to be writing or drawing something on the wall.
Zhu Zangmo broke out in a cold sweat and moved closer to the bed.
There were words printed on the pillow: XX City Mental Health Center.
He was furious. "Mental Health Center... Mental Hospital? How did I end up in this place?"
His gaze fixed on something: "That is..."
He reached out and picked up the name tag hanging at the end of the bed.
Name: Lu XX
Gender: Female Age: 17
"Lu..." His eyes were suddenly filled with fear as he looked at the person in hospital gown by the wall.
The camera suddenly cuts over there.
The person by the wall didn't move, but his face had turned towards him at some point, and the angle of rotation was as if his neck was broken, and he was smiling at him strangely.
On his pale face, his features were clear yet rigid, his dark eyes were motionless, and the curve of his lips seemed to be painted on...
It's just painted on.
It wasn't a living face, but one painted on wood. The grain of the wood could be faintly seen through the neck. It was a puppet.
"Ghost...ghost!" Zhu Zangmo screamed and fell to the ground in front of the bed with weak legs.
Snap...
With the sound of wooden joints rubbing against each other, the face remained at the same angle, but the body turned and stood up straight.
The movements were fluid and eerie, like some kind of bird with extremely stable head.
It is no longer the small one it was originally, but a puppet the size of a real person.
There is a name tag on the chest of its hospital gown with the logo of the Tibetan Ink Base and its name: Lu XX.
Zhu Zangmo held his head and cried, "Don't come over here, don't come over here!"
"Click..." The puppet walked towards him with stiff steps.
"Zila... Principal Zhu... Don't you recognize me... Zila..."
A female voice with an electric sound came from the head of the bed.
Zhu Zangmo peeked out an eye from the gap between his arms: "Who... who is talking?"
"It's me, Principal Zhu... zila..."
The sound was filled with noise. It turned out to be coming from the pager at the bedside, which was a microphone for medical staff to communicate with patients.
However, as the voice came from the pager, the puppet standing a few steps away made movements with its wooden hands to match the voice.
It turns out that the puppet, who cannot speak, is "speaking" through the pager.
Zhu Zangmo plucked up the courage to look at the puppet and noticed the brand name.
He leaned his back against the edge of the bed. "You...you're Lu's puppet! Damn it...it must be because the evil-suppressing talisman fell off and can't suppress the resentful spirits anymore! How did you get so big?"
The puppet "Student Lu" tilted his head, as if it was a playful gesture.
The pager rang immediately: "To... seek revenge on you... Zila..."
"Student Lu" suddenly approached at an incredibly fast speed, and his wooden hand pinched Zhu Zangmo's neck!
Zhu Zangmo shouted "Help" and crawled under the bed.
He raised his head from under the bed, but found nothing outside.
"Where did he go?" he muttered tremblingly.
Suddenly realizing something, he slowly looked back. Behind him, on the other side of the bed, hung down, a smiling wooden face.
Zhu Zangmo let out a strange cry and crawled out from under the bed using his hands and feet, as fast as a cockroach.
He crawled to the door and grabbed the door handle, but found that he couldn't turn it at all. The door was locked from the outside!
A rustling voice echoed behind him: "Principal Zhu... the ward in the mental hospital, once you enter, you can't leave, don't you know?"
Zhu Zangmo leaned over the small observation window of the ward door and shouted hoarsely, "Is there anyone there? Is there anyone there? Open the door quickly!"
There was no response from outside, and the corridor seemed endless.
The sound of "thump thump" footsteps gradually approached and came behind him.
He didn't even dare to look back, sliding to the side along the wall, wriggling like some kind of mollusk to avoid it: "Don't come over, don't come over..."
"Zila... Principal Zhu, where are you going? You have nowhere to escape." "Tatatata..."
The sound lingered.
Zhu Zangmo fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "What on earth is going on? What on earth is..."
Something was poking his knee on the floor. It was a few stubs of crayons, the kind children use for drawing.
He suddenly noticed something painted on the wall in front of him.
Sitting on the ground, I looked up and saw a picture drawn on the wall with crayons.
The painting shows a person hanging in the air with a rope around his neck, neither up nor down, hanging in nothingness.
Although it is painted with crayons, the brushstrokes are delicate and rich, giving it a realistic effect like an oil painting.
It turns out that the puppet was drawing this when he was painting on the wall.
Zhu Zangmo looked up at the face on the mural that was peeking out from the rope loop.
His face was black and swollen due to suffocation, and his tongue hung out long.
He felt that this face was somewhat familiar. He took a closer look and opened his eyes wide in horror, blurting out: "That's not it, that's not it..."
"That's you, Principal Zhu... Zila..." The pager continued his conversation.
At the same time, a pale wooden face leaned over his shoulder from behind, as if admiring it with him.
"Zila... Is my drawing good? Principal Zhu? Do you want to give me some comments?"
"Go away!" he yelled and pushed hard.
The wooden head was pushed sideways and bent on one shoulder. The neck seemed to be broken, but the smile on the white face did not move at all.
Zhu Zangmo crawled away on all fours, tears and snot dripping onto the ground: "What the hell is this place..."
"Zila... You've been here before, Principal Zhu."
"Student Lu" held the head with his wooden hand and put it back in place with a "click".
The pager said, "Principal Zhu, didn't you come here specifically to draw that picture?"
Zhu Zangmo froze in his crawling motion. "That painting... 'Crescent Moon Moored at a Lonely Tower'."
"Sizzle... That's right."
A hard and cold wooden hand suddenly grabbed his neck from behind. With astonishing strength, it lifted him up from the ground and then violently dragged him forward...
“Swish—bang!”
Zhu Zangmo was pressed hard against the iron mesh of the window by a strange force, and his face was pressed into grids by the mesh.
He rolled his eyes upwards and saw the dark sky like a huge, boundless face. The pale crescent moon floated in the sky like a thin, sharp smile.
"Principal Zhu, look." Mu Lian also leaned closer to the window, but the voice still came from the pager. "The moon is in the sky, and I am in the lonely building. So, where are you?"
Zhu Zangmo tried to break free, but the wooden hand behind his neck held him down like a pair of pliers. He choked out a sentence: "Am I not... here?"
"No, you're there...look."
A wooden finger pointed out the window from the side of his face.
Zhu Zangmo looked through the grid.
In the distance, on a high hill, there is a faint figure, painting with an easel.
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