As a senior forensic doctor who has been practicing for ten years, I only believed in the truth under the scalpel, until that day, a corpse that was judged to have committed suicide by falling from a height suddenly opened its eyes on the autopsy table.
He stared at me, without moving his lips, but a roar from the depths of his soul exploded in my mind:
"Don't check! Run! They... Are not human!"
From that moment on, my world completely collapsed.
Every time I touched a body, I was forcibly dragged into the last and most horrific ten seconds of their life. I saw with my own eyes the "accident" that devoured flesh and blood, heard the seductive and depraved "babble", and felt the indescribable malice lurking in the shadows of the city.
My colleagues thought I was over-stressed and hallucinating. The police viewed me as a lunatic who was obstructing the investigation.
But I know I'm not crazy.
The "rules" of this world have long been tampered with by an invisible hand, and a silent "plague" is spreading among the crowd. And I am the only one who can see the truth.
Now, they are starting to pay attention to me. Cold gazes were everywhere, and the next corpse lying on the autopsy table... Was probably me.
