No Sound on the Way Home

When Chen Fu got on the last bus, he just regarded it as an ordinary transfer. There were sixteen people in the car, some were napping, some were scrolling through their cell phones, and some were holding dogs. Everything works fine. Until the car drove further and further, the street lights disappeared, and darkness came from all directions. An electronic female voice sounded, announcing not the name of the station, but the rules. Article 1: Sixteen people are required to set off. Article 2: You are not allowed to get off the bus before arriving at the station. Article 3: Whoever gets off the bus dies. Some people didn't believe it and jumped out of the window. Chen Fu watched the man disappear in the darkness with his own eyes, without any sound of landing or screaming. From that moment on, he knew the car wouldn't stop. There are new rules at every stop. Someone died at every stop. But what really made Chen Fu feel chills down his back was not the rules themselves, but the people who got on the bus with him. Someone will help you when you are cornered by the rules, and then make a mistake at the most critical moment that you can never bear to blame. They don't know that they are no longer human. Chen Fu could only write down their names in his notebook, put a check mark next to them, and then continue walking forward. He didn't know what the terminus was, but he knew the rules were not meant to be followed. Rules are meant to be revised. This is a bus that never looks back, a road with no return. And of those who get on the bus with him, some will die, some will become something else, and some will stay. The living will continue to move forward, taking with them the things left by the dead - a cloth bag, a photo, and a bow tied with the left side shorter than the right when tying shoelaces. There is no sound on the way home, you can only go on your own.