[Cthulhu] [Infinite Flow] [No Protagonist] [Read as Interactive]
“This corridor is only twenty-five meters long.”
Zhang Mo took a job: a factory that had swallowed five workers, and a corridor that had no end. The mad Taoist crouched on the ground. “There are at least three layers of people buried underneath.” Tie Hu punched a worm in the head. His knuckles split open, exposing white bone.
They drove the worm back and sent Tie Hu to the hospital. His Glasgow score was four. He wouldn’t wake up.
Then they boarded the Joyful.
The white flowers on the windowsill fell away one petal at a time, each cut as neat as if made by a knife.
On the first day, someone dreamed of the corridor. On the second, someone forgot who they were. On the third, the ship stopped. Somnolence seeped out of the stairwell, amber-colored, like wax left melting for too long. It could smell your body heat.
The sleeping passengers began to change. Their skin turned gray and their pupils clouded over. Their joints bent backward. A figure in the mirror came up the stairwell, its features misaligned and its knees bending the wrong way. It never made a sound, but you could hear it shouting inside your head:
“Why won’t you look at me?”
Xiao Dou was five. She stood in the doorway, clutching her little tiger. The tiger jumped from her arms, its fur bristling as it gave off a golden light.
She didn’t know what those things were. She only knew that as long as she didn’t let go, the little tiger wouldn’t let go either.
(New book recommendation: I Played Cthulhu, and Then There Was No Going Back)
