The air conditioning in the morgue hissed.
Zhu Lu put on rubber gloves and looked at the dissecting table. It was a young man. On the surface, he seemed to have drowned, but the bleeding spots under his eyelids were... Wrong.
He picked up the scalpel.
The moment the blade cut open the pale skin, a sudden change occurred - a faint golden light oozed from the edge of the wound, squirming like a living creature. Zhu showed his hands and paused.
"What the hell."
He looked closer, and the golden light suddenly exploded into tiny stars. At this moment, in the peripheral vision, the shadow of the corpse... Was moving.
It's not an illusion of light and shadow.
The humanoid black shadow was slowly arching its back and peeling off the ground, standing up like sticky asphalt. The head turned towards Zhu Lu. Although there were no facial features, Zhu Lu felt that she was being stared at.
Then, the voice came directly into my head:
(… fresh… flesh and blood…)
Hoarse, greedy, every syllable coated in slimy malice.
Zhu Lu retreated suddenly, and the scalpel clattered to the ground. He stared intently at the twisted shadow and pressed his back against the cold metal cabinet.
(See me...)
