My name is Zhou Yan. I'm a temporary night-shift worker at the No. 3 Municipal Hospital, earning 3,800 yuan a month. I look after my grandma during the day and count the cabinets in the morgue at night. I've been doing this job for three months, and now the women in the cabinets have started moving. The fingernails in cabinet No. 3 are growing. The corners of the mouth in cabinet No. 5 are turning up. The female forensic doctor from cabinet No. 7 climbed inside on her own in the middle of the night, and the door shut from the inside. I found a diary. The first page says, “She won't leave.” Page thirty-seven is blank. The woman who sat up in the middle of the night to look for me says I'm the reason that page is blank.
Mo Wan was the first person to ask, “Aren't you scared?”
She's a gentle police officer, but she couldn't even straighten her collar as she stood at the morgue entrance. She was terrified, yet still sat down and stayed up with me all night. Later, a line appeared on her wrist, carved there by the diary. It will never fade, and it will always be tied to my life.
The diary has forty-seven pages. Some say the last page leads to certain death.
Page thirty-seven is blank.
Early this morning, I turned to page thirty-eight. A new line had appeared.
It's in my handwriting.
But I didn't write it last night. Strange things keep happening.
This diary can write living people to death. I can use it to make a murderer die on the seventh night, and to lock away everything in this morgue that should never wake up.
But every page is being pulled back, as if someone is slowly tugging at a thread on the other side of the paper.
Once the thread is pulled all the way through, this kitty will know who she is.
