Chapter 614: Witnessing the Crime

On November 11th, at 4 a.m., the neighborhood was shrouded in darkness, except for one lone window that still had a light on.

Zhou, a homebody, sipped on his Diet Coke, a cigarette between his fingers, while watching a popular Chinese TV drama on his screen. When a funny scene came up, he leaned back, opened his screenshot software, and saved the entire clip as a GIF. He then rapidly typed out some text to accompany the image.

To his parents and elders, Zhou’s profession was seen as frivolous. He made internet memes to sell on various chat platforms. He wasn’t particularly successful, making just enough each month to cover his rent and basic living expenses.

Despite this, Zhou was a young man with dreams. He aspired to become an illustrator one day, occasionally sketching on his drawing tablet and flipping through beginner’s guides to illustration. He posted his works online for others to enjoy.

However, the gap between his dreams and reality remained vast. Just surviving in a different city was already exhausting. He had become accustomed to this life.

Suddenly, a quarrel erupted outside, disturbing his peace. He walked to the balcony and saw a couple arguing below. The empty street seemed like a stage with only these two actors on it.

The woman screamed, “You scumbag, you’re just a scumbag!” Her gestures mimicked a famous meme. The man loudly defended himself, saying, “She seduced me,” and “I only made the mistake every man makes.”

Intrigued by the drama, Zhou leaned on the balcony, amused by the spectacle.

As the argument continued, a shadowy figure emerged from the corner, dragging a large construction hammer. Sensing something ominous, Zhou’s smile froze.

The shadow approached the couple from behind and swung the hammer down on the man, knocking him to the ground. Zhou covered his mouth in shock, recalling a GIF he had seen online of someone hitting a pig’s head with a stick, causing it to collapse, limbs stiff and twitching. The man on the ground looked just like that pig.

The woman, paralyzed by shock, couldn’t even scream. The shadow swung the hammer again, and she instinctively ran, letting out a piercing scream before the hammer struck her spine, sending her crashing to the ground.

The shadow raised the hammer high and repeatedly brought it down on her, as if pounding rice cakes, until she stopped moving.

Terrified, Zhou’s heart pounded. He was so stunned that he couldn’t move. His window was the only one lit in the building, standing out like a coffee stain on a white shirt. The killer, holding the bloodied hammer, turned and locked eyes with Zhou’s terrified face.

“He saw me!”

Panicked, Zhou fumbled for his phone to call the police, but in his haste, it fell and the cracked touchscreen wouldn’t respond.

Frustrated, he cursed and threw the phone aside, then ran back to the window. The hammer-wielding man was entering the building. The poor security meant no one was on duty at night.

“He’s coming to silence me!”

Turning off the lights was too late, and running wasn’t an option either. The building had only one exit, and the killer would surely reach it before he could escape.

His only option was to barricade the door. He looked around, trying to find furniture to block it, but his lack of strength frustrated him. He regretted not exercising, being so weak at thirty-something.

Hearing suspicious noises outside, Zhou pressed his ear to the door. The killer was dragging the hammer up the stairs, each step echoing ominously.

The sound grew closer, reverberating through the stairwell, tightening a noose around Zhou’s throat, filling him with despair.

“Don’t come in, don’t come in!”

Zhou started crying, feeling warm liquid trickle down his pants. The small rental had no weapons for defense, and even if it did, he doubted he’d have the courage to fight.

Desperately, he paced the room. The dragging sound stopped. He stared at the door, seeing the hallway light blocked by something—him!

The killer stood motionless outside, seemingly waiting for Zhou to open the door and be ambushed.

Time seemed to freeze. Zhou, bent over with tears streaming down his face, stayed fixed in his position.

“Why is this happening to me?”

Seconds or minutes passed, then the killer knocked. Each knock was rhythmic and identical, like a machine executing its cold, relentless mission. The door, blocking Zhou’s view, fueled his imagination, conjuring visions of the most terrifying monsters.

A minute of agonizing silence later, the knocking resumed, monotonous and heavy, reminding Zhou of the hammer striking the victims’ heads.

He lacked the courage to look through the peephole, frozen in place, his pants soaked through.

Another minute passed, the knocking persisted, stubborn and unyielding, as if the killer was certain Zhou would eventually open the door.

“Knock, knock, knock! What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know it’s late?” an elderly neighbor woman shouted from behind her door. Her voice turned into a scream before she could finish. Her husband, groggy from sleep, called out, “Honey?” The shout quickly turned into frantic cries and crashing sounds, like walls being torn down, each noise making Zhou shudder. Salty tears flowed into his mouth through his nose.

He suddenly remembered there was a family of three next door. Was the child in danger too?

Indeed, the sound of a boy crying came from outside, muffled as if someone was covering his mouth. Zhou’s heart tightened. Don’t kill the child, please!

The crying continued, driving Zhou mad. He thought about helping but knew it was just a fleeting idea. Maybe he could use this chance to escape!

He peeked through the peephole, only to see a lifeless eye staring back. They locked eyes for a few seconds, and Zhou’s willpower reached its limit. He fainted…