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Chapter 308 Nightmare

Charles heard the sound of blood flowing. It flowed on the floor, snaked across the walls backwards, and writhed toward the ceiling. It moved without regard to gravity, humming a love song of death.

He gazed at the elegant décor stained with blood—the dark red pillars with dark red baroque carvings, the dark red walls with dark red oil paintings, and the dark red ceiling with dark red chandeliers.

The large hall was bloody as well. Corpses were scattered about the world covered in blood. The dead faces were torn into pieces and each one was unfamiliar.

Charles stared at them in fear. Finally, he looked down and saw Abraham’s face. Abraham looked at him as well. Charles’s pale face was reflected in the blank eyes. A pleased smile seemed to still remain on the dead face.

"Charles, you’re a hero." He grasped Charles’s hand and said gently, "So impressive. I’m proud to be your professor."

"Professor…" Charles gaped at him.

"Charles, be good and don’t run around anymore," Abraham advised quietly. "You must stay safe. You always speak nonsense and insult too many people but can never win in fights. You worry me."

"Professor, you…"

A gaping hole opened in Abraham’s chest. It was empty. Blood flowed out, hurting Charles’ eyes.

"Run, Charles." The dead man looked at him with a gentle yet strange smile. "Don’t look back and run. I’ll look after you even in the underworld."

Charles shook but could not move his feet. He wanted to say something but the dead died once again. All was silent in the large hall.

He could hear the panicked footsteps outside the hall. Screams sounded over and over. Everyone was running in panic. Someone pounded on the door, wanting to hide in here, but the door remained closed. The blood behind the door trembled and transformed into light rain. It fell through the air; it was so beautiful.

Blood finally flowed in from the world outside the door. The entire world was still.

Someone walked toward the hall through the pool of blood. Under the heavy creaks of rusted bronze, the large door opened slowly. The sound was deafening and Charles froze in place.

A bloody youth with black clothing and white hair stood amidst the corpses outside the door. He looked at Charles coldly. There were no reflections in his eyes, only cold cruelty and darkness.

"Yezi…all those people, you…"

Ye Qingxuan did not reply. He unsheathed his sword and walked through the puddle of blood. His murderous intent was heavy. Charles trembled and looked about in terror. All he saw were the dead faces looking at him. Those gazes came from the underworld. They seemed mocking and gleeful.

"Run, Charles," they said. "Don’t look back and run!" But those faces were ripped apart by the sword; they became ugly and bloody. Like an executioner, the white-haired tore the corpses into thousands of pieces. His eyes were vicious and cold. Blood splattered onto his face, covering his features and making him seem menacing and monstrous.

He looked back at Charles, who was retreating. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something.

Charles stumbled back and Ye Qingxuan stepped forward.

The blade pierced through his chest. The flesh lost its color; a bright yet cold blade poked out of his back.

"Yezi…" Charles gaped at Ye Qingxuan’s face; it was so unfamiliar. "You came to kill me." Chuckling, he embraced the youth beside him. "Whatever, why should I run? It’s all…whatever." Fatigued, he closed his eyes and darkness surged.

"Senior! Senior!"

Light flashed through dazed eyes. There seemed to be someone moving before him. He was shocked awake from his sleep; spirit returned to his eyes.

"Yezi?" he asked, stunned.

"You’re finally awake." Ye Qingxuan smiled.

"Move, I want to see." Beside him, Bai Xi squeezed in and pinched Charles’s cheeks. "Charles, you’ve been sleeping for days without moving. Let me see, did you get fatter? Wow! So oily…"

"Stop messing around." Ye Qingxuan knocked the side of her head. "Get Old Phil out of here. Don’t you know the doctors are about to go crazy?"

"I don’t care. Old Phil can go wherever he wants, right?"

"Woof, woof!" Beside the bed, Old Phil barked. Then he reached a paw out to pat Charles’s face. This meant: follower number three, rest well and don’t worry about anything else.

Abraham sat in the back. Seeing them fool around, he chuckled lightly.

After a long time, the doctor finally heard the news and hurried over. He checked and nodded. "I don’t see any problems but you should still stay for observation. You should only be discharged after we’re sure there are no sequelae. Don’t worry, others will pay for the medical bills anyway."

"Thank you all." Abraham nodded and saw the doctor out.

However, the doctor sent a meaningful gaze at the entrance. Abraham flinched but he quickly followed him out and closed the door. "Sir, is there a problem?" he asked quietly.

"It’s not really a problem but a hidden trouble," the Choir musician said after a short pause. "He still has strong psychological trauma. We must observe for a bit more before we can conclude if this event will trigger the old wounds."

"Old wounds?" Abraham was shocked.

"…You don’t know anything?" The Choir musician was shocked as well. He requested a projection of the checkup from a nurse. One could see a vague shadow on the skull.

"What is this?" Abraham furrowed his brows.

"I don’t know." The doctor shook his head. "This shadowy patch has been repressing his nerves since childhood. His frontal lobe, amygdala, and hippocampus have probably been affected. Now that he has suffered trauma, it might become a problem."

"Will it cause perceptual disorders?"

"It won’t be that serious. This shadow’s disturbance is quite small and may even be benign. At most, it’ll just cause nightmares."

Abraham fell silent. The doctor patted his shoulder and left. Abraham slumped on the bench in the quiet hall. He gazed at the ward.

"Is it…nightmares?"

-

As the day grew late, Ye Qingxuan brought Bai Xi back to the school while yawning.

Abraham made some tea for Charles. "Drink some. You’ve fooled around for the whole day after waking up."

"Professor, don’t you know me? I’ll die if no one talks to me." On the bed, Charles laughed and accepted the mug. He blew at the hot steam.

"As long as you’re okay." Sitting on the chair, Abraham stared at Charles for a long while. Charles looked back and laughed dumbly. Abraham suddenly asked, "Charles, do you still get those nightmares?"

"No, sir." Charles scratched his head and looked down. "I probably won’t in the future either."

After a short pause, Abraham chuckled. "That’s great."

He chatted with Charles for a while until bidding farewell when the bell rang in the night. He shut the door gently. In silence, Charles watched as Abraham left. Then he looked down at the mug that was now cold. He instantly fell into a trance.

The reflection in the mug was red, along with his pale face. Amidst the blurry red world, Charles gazed at the wailing souls that had emerged from the wall and looked outside the window.

People would pass by occasionally. When the bloody and mangled doctors and nurses passed, they would sense his gaze and look up. Their withered and ugly faces would distort.

Was that their smile?

He imagined they must be very gentle. The decorations in this room must be heartwarming as well, right? There were pure white walls and a soft bed. There was soothing incense as well, even though it smelled like bodies burning.

Late at night, the church bells rang faintly. The sound of hymns traveled over too. The holy voices sounded like the wails of the dead. It was indescribably tragic.

The fleeting imaginations passed again and everything reverted back to normal. Everything was normal. It was good.

"So…I’m the only one with problems?" Charles looked down at the bloody water in his mug. He drank it all expressionlessly and closed his eyes.

There were no more nightmares in the darkness.

All was peaceful.