Kaleidoscope of Death

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu

Lin Qiushi guessed that most likely, the key would be linked to the dean’s office. Ruan Nanzhu supposed the same, so the two of them simply waited for night to come.

Seeing them calmly waiting, Feng Yongle too settled down his thrumming anxiety.

The long, winding day finally passed. When the hour hand pointed to 8, the sun dipped under the horizon, leaving the sanitarium to be wholly swallowed by darkness once more.

Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi were in their room.

At 8 o'clock, no sound of high heels came. Instead, Lin Qiushi heard a man’s awful screaming, coming from a place not far from where they were. Lin Qiushi was familiar with this scream. It was Jiang Yingrui—or rather, the dean.

Feng Yongle, at first standing by the window, poked his head outside when he heard this. Then he spoke quietly, “come look at this…”

Lin Qiushi went, and saw what was outside.

At the foot of the building, the nurse had once again appeared in her mangled form. She was dragging an unidentifiable corpse in her hand, slowly crossing beneath them, and finally up the stairs.

Though it was impossible to recognize the actual corpse, judging by its clothing, it was the dean.

Lin Qiushi heard a child crying, and glanced at Ruan Nanzhu, only to see his placid expression like he hadn’t heard a thing.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lin Qiushi told Ruan Nanzhu about the noise he heard.

Ruan Nanzhu read the words he typed and went briefly quiet in thought. “I’ll go look for the key on the top floor. You two wait for me at the door to the tunnel.”

Hearing this Lin Qiushi shook his head in disagreement: I’m going with you.

Feng Yongle, awkwardly, “then I’ll go along too.” Seeing two women take such risks for him was a difficult thing to bear.

But who’d’ve thought that Ruan Nanzhu would just shoot him a look, and say: “You can just go to the tunnel.”

Feng Yongle, “…” Was he imagining it? Or was there actually a touch of distaste in Ruan Nanzhu’s voice?

Feng Yongle struggled to say something more, but then Ruan Nanzhu waved, grabbed Lin Qiushi, and simply left, leaving Feng Yongle where he stood, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry.

Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi went up to the sixth floor.

Today was quite different from the days before. The nurse no longer sprinted along the halls, no longer jumped endlessly off the building. She seemed to have found what she wanted, and so was at peace.

Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi came to the dean’s office door.

Inside was dark, and quiet. There didn’t seem to be any oddities at play. Ruan Nanzhu reached for the knob, and with a light tug and click, the wooden door before them. He entered, patting along the wall for the light switch.

The lights turned on, illuminating everything in the entire room. After adjusting to the brightness for a few seconds, Lin Qiushi saw that that last picture frame had indeed been filled.

But the picture inside the frame wasn’t a solo portrait, instead featured a couple.

The man wore a doctor’s coat, and the woman wore a nurse’s uniform. The man’s expression was a bit stiff, but the woman’s smile was sweet, and seemed wholly satisfied.

Ruan Nanzhu eyed the frame, before fetching a chair. Because the frame was hung a bit high, he had to step on something to reach.

Lin Qiushi’s gaze fell onto the rest of the room. Suddenly, he noticed that one of the drawers had been opened, and so slowly approached.

The infant’s corpse was still inside that opened drawer. Staring at the dead baby, Lin Qiushi recalled something. He remembered that when the dean was running away last night, the dean had seemed to place a lot of importance on this corpse. Could the corpse have some kind of use…?

After a moment’s hesitation, he reached in and picked up the dead baby.

Just as he did, Ruan Nanzhu got the frame down. Flipping it over, they saw the key hanging off the back.

Ruan Nanzhu’s expression cleared at once at the confirmation that their guess had been correct. He quickly removed the key, and moved to hang the picture frame back.

It was at this point that a major problem presented itself—the frame couldn’t be hung back up.

Something that was supposed to be easy became an impossible task. Repeatedly, the frame slipped from the wall, and Ruan Nanzhu’s expression grew more and more sober.

Lin Qiushi noticed the room’s atmosphere changing. The moment that frame had been taken down, the other funereal portraits had begun to slowly move. First it was only the gazes. And then it was the expressions. And finally—they reached out their hands, raring to crawl out from their frames.

As for the joint portrait in Ruan Nanzhu’s hands, the dean’s smile became eerie, and the nurse’s expression grew to match his.

These changes happened in all but a second. Ruan Nanzhu caught on quick, his expression changing drastically, and he stopped trying to hang the frame back up.

“Something’s off, let’s go—!” he shouted, before turning and making a run for it.

Lin Qiushi was right behind him.

The two rushed out of the dean’s office, sprinting toward the stairs.

But Lin Qiushi discovered something weird. The stairs that were once a simple matter to descend were suddenly endless. They’d rounded many corners already, but were still running in circles.

Ruan Nanzhu’s footsteps stopped, forehead furrowing. “We’re trapped.”

Before Lin Qiushi could speak, he saw a faint figure appear ahead of them on the stairs. At first he thought there was only the one, but very quickly, he discovered it was a whole mass—all the figures from the portraits had come out from their frames. Stood at the end of the hallway, they smiled at Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu, mouths ripping into grins. With black gaping eyes and black gaping mouths, they didn’t look human at all, but like faces made of papier-mâché.

A chill shot down Lin Qiushi’s back.

Taking a deep breath, Ruan Nanzhu slowly drew a blood red jade bracelet from his pocket, and handed it to Lin Qiushi.

“Put that on.”

Lin Qiushi glanced at him. “What is it?”

Ruan Nanzhu said, “something that can save your life once.” A rare anxiety had appeared in his eyes, and Lin Qiushi could clearly sense that their situation wasn’t good at all.

Lin Qiushi asked, “and what about you?”

Ruan Nanzhu said, “I have my own methods.” He handed the key to Lin Qiushi as well, saying, “we’ll make a run for it. You go straight downstairs.”

Lin Qiushi watched Ruan Nanzhu’s face, and asked again: “and what about you?”

Ruan Nanzhu didn’t speak, until he answered, quite neatly, “I probably won’t die.”

He said probably, not definitely. Lin Qiushi stared, and said firmly: “No, I’m not going alone.”

At this, Ruan Nanzhu jerked.

“I’m not going alone,” Lin Qiushi said. “If we’re going we’ll go together.”

Ruan Nanzhu: “Don’t be stubborn—” He was going to try to persuade Lin Qiushi some more, but the silhouettes in front began to move toward them.

They were fast, and in an instant, stood directly in front of Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu. It was at this moment that Lin Qiushi suddenly moved. He stuck his hand into his bag, and pulled out the corpse baby he’d gotten out of the dean’s office before.

This was a very sudden motion; Lin Qiushi didn’t actually know if this would work, and was just going along with his instincts—

The silhouettes looming over him and Ruan Nanzhu suddenly dispersed. Though their eyes were only dark holes, Lin Qiushi could see on their faces an air of fright. These things were indeed scared of this baby… Lin Qiushi’s heart shot up in joy.

Ruan Nanzhu saw this happen too. But without time to investigate any details, he grabbed Lin Qiushi by the hand and ran straight through the silhouettes, dashing ahead.

This time, the figures didn’t dare get in their way.

Internally, Lin Qiushi let out a very big sigh of relief, and knew they’d gotten out of another major bind.

However, though the stairs were back to normal again, the situation all around them began to go strange. The thick scent of blood permeated the air, and when Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu ran past the fourth floor, they saw a spray of fresh red across the hallway floor. Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi exchanged a glance, and found in each other’s eyes grimaces of apprehension. The same thing was on their minds—hopefully, Feng Yongle was alright.

The sanitarium was beginning to stir. All the patients, once asleep in their rooms, had left, and started to attack each other.

Passing the second floor, Lin Qiushi witnessed one patient shove another to the ground, then drop down to bite into that patient’s throat. Hearing their footsteps, the first patient lifted a bloody face, and shot them a grin.

Similar things were happening all over. It was like all the malice and resentment in the sanitarium was being released at the same time.

Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi finally arrived at their rendezvous point with Feng Yongle.

Seeing them arrive, Feng Yongle was so excited he practically leapt up off of the floor. He seemed to have been mildly injured, with a scratch on his cheek. “You’re finally here— I was so fucking scared man, these patients are going crazy—”

Ruan Nanzhu said, “get in there!”

Feng Yongle nodded.

They’d confirmed during the day that the metal door was at the end of the hallway, not far from where they were now. They would just have to pass through the path stacked high with body bags.

It had been alright by day, but now, as they stepped into the tunnel, they discovered the body bags by their feet had started to move. Some corpses had even managed to gouge holes in their bags, stretching out ghastly pale arms to grope around, hoping to catch any passersby.

Ruan Nanzhu took the lead, skirting those hands. Lin Qiushi followed tight in his footsteps. Feng Yongle’s face had gone colorless, but at least he didn’t fall behind. The three were very careful, doing their best to avoid all these ghoulish hands.

But in reality, they were hard to completely avoid. The entire hallway was packed, after all. Even their footholds were in the soft flesh of corpses.

It was truly an awful feeling. A layer of cold sweat had broken out over Lin Qiushi’s forehead.

“Fuck—” Feng Yongle, last in line, suddenly cursed loudly. Lin Qiushi twisted to look, and saw his leg had been caught by a hand.

That hand gripped tight. Feng Yongle nearly fell right over, voice stammering as he said, “I… I’ve been caught…”

He began to struggle, putting force behind it. But that hand was like a metal cuff, impossible to break.

Lin Qiushi glanced at Ruan Nanzhu, and saw Ruan Nanzhu’s brow furrow. Lin Qiushi spent three seconds in indecision, before determination filled his expression, and he pulled out a pocket knife.

This knife was very sharp. Ruan Nanzhu had picked it out himself, had said it could cut through steel like mud…

Lin Qiushi brought the knife before Feng Yongle, and Feng Yongle stared with wide eyes. “Qiu… Qiuqiu… What are you doing…” It had to be said, seeing a gentle young woman, knife in hand, watch you with such a blank expression—it was oddly scary.

Lin Qiushi ignored him, crouching down.

“Don't— don’t cut off my leg—” Feng Yongle was just beginning to wail when he felt the pressure on his foot loosen. He looked down, and saw that Lin Qiushi had severed the hand gripping him in one stroke.

And that Lin Qiushi was watching him with a kind of ah, low IQ look in his eyes.

Feng Yongle laughed twice, awkwardly. “Hahah, I’m just joking around.”

Lin Qiushi thought, if you hadn’t screamed so earnestly, I really might’ve believed that.

Meanwhile, Ruan Nanzhu had already opened the metal door with the key. Pushing it open revealed the path beyond, faintly glowing with light.

Ruan Nanzhu waved them over. “Quick, come on—”

Following the door opening, the corpses in the tunnel grew more restless. Lin Qiushi and Feng Yongle quickened their steps, and finally reached the end of the tunnel.

Feng Yongle didn’t bother with comportment this time, dashing through the door after just a greeting for Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu, “come on, let’s go.”

Lin Qiushi nodded. After walking through the door, he glanced back at the other end of the tunnel. He saw the nurse standing there, watching them with a blank expression. The dean stood at her side, resentment thick in his glare. It was a chilling sight to see… It was all too easy to imagine what would happen to the people who hadn’t gotten here yet, when they were met with the two ghouls at the entrance.

Retracting his gaze, Lin Qiushi turned back, and followed Ruan Nanzhu into the door.

After a long tunnel, they returned to reality.

Lin Qiushi appeared once again inside the mansion, feeling for a moment like he’d jumped through worlds.

Chestnut just happened to be passing by. It meowed at him a couple of times, and even bumped its head against Lin Qiushi’s feet. This was when Lin Qiushi really came to, joy blooming across his face.

“Chestnut!! You’re finally letting daddy hold you!!”

He giddily picked up Chestnut, flipped up that furry white belly, and buried his face against it…

Ruan Nanzhu, coming down the stairs and into the dining room, saw Lin Qiushi like this first thing. His expression seized for a moment, but very quickly recovered.

“Lin Qiushi.”

Lin Qiushi was still mesmerized by his kitty’s scent, until Ruan Nanzhu called for him again.

“Mh? What is it?” Lin Qiushi finally lifted his head.

It was spring, Chestnut’s shedding season. When Lin Qiushi looked up, there was a strand of white cat fur stuck to his mouth.

Ruan Nanzhu went over, and held Lin Qiushi’s lips still with one hand. With a soft rub, he brushed that white fur away.

Lin Qiushi said, “we’re finally out.” With a sigh of relief, he felt exhaustion throughout his body.

“Mh. Rest up,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “And check inside your bag.”

Lin Qiushi nodded and opened his backpack. When he saw what was inside though, he blinked.

Because still inside was the baby’s corpse he’d gotten from the dean’s office. The only difference, now that he’d brought it out, was that the corpse had turned completely, thickly black.

Ruan Nanzhu, “so it was a usable prop.”

Speaking of props, Lin Qiushi recalled the red bracelet Ruan Nanzhu had given him. He didn’t get a good look inside the door, but now, he could see that it was carved out of blood jade. It was really quite lovely, thorough in its coloration with red misting through it in swathes and spots—it was clearly uncommon goods.

He took the bracelet off and handed it back to Ruan Nanzhu. “Oh, let me give this back. This bracelet’s very nice. It’s pretty.”

Ruan Nanzhu took it, and replied placidly, “pretty’s one thing. It’s from a dead person, is the other thing, or it’d be fine to give to you to wear.”

Lin Qiushi laughed, “I’m not a girl, why would I wear it.” He wasn’t interested in accessories and such.

But Ruan Nanzhu just lifted an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

Lin Qiushi, “…” He’d only just remembered he was still in drag. With a sigh, he said, “what do we do about this corpse? Just leave it around?”

Ruan Nanzhu said, “there’s a study in the house with a few safes inside. You should keep this sort of thing locked up, typically, and bring it with you when you go into the doors.”

Lin Qiushi tilted his head. “So what does this thing do then…”

Ruan Nanzhu shook his head. “I don’t know, but it’ll definitely be of use.”

As for how, that would have to be figured out later, just like the diary from before.

Lin Qiushi nodded his understanding, and returned to his room. He took off his outfit, showered, then opened up the internet forum once seated in his bedroom.

Entering high-level doors at such a high frequency was honestly exhausting. At least Lin Qiushi felt so. He didn’t know how Ruan Nanzhu did it.

Only after a night of rest did Lin Qiushi feel better again.

The next day, Cheng Qianli asked how he felt this time inside the door.

Lin Qiushi answered, “alright, I guess. We met someone a lot like you inside the door.”

Cheng Qianli, “like me… what does that mean?”

Lin Qiushi, “clever and adorable?”

Cheng Qianli looked suspicious. “Really? You’re lying to me, aren’t you, though yes, I am clever and adorable.”

Lin Qiushi, “hahah.”

Ruan Nanzhu had mentioned before, the closer you got to the latter doors, the more accurate your sense got of when your next door was coming. By the tenth door, you could even concretely know down to the minute and second when your door is coming next. This could be a considered a kind of benevolence from the doors; at least you had plenty of time to prepare beforehand.

After coming out of this door, Lin Qiushi gave some matters a lot of thought. On the third day he went to Ruan Nanzhu, and expressed that he wanted to have a talk.

Ruan Nanzhu seemed to be discussing something with someone over the internet. He gestured with a lift of his chin for Lin Qiushi to sit, and went straight for it: “Go ahead.”

Lin Qiushi said, “actually… I’ve been wanting to know for a while now, has anybody actually survived the twelfth door?”

Ruan Nanzhu’s hands, tapping at the keyboard, froze.

“Even someone as good as you is only on his tenth door,” Lin Qiushi said. “Have you met anyone who’s survived the twelfth door?”

Ruan Nanzhu answered, “I haven’t.”

Lin Qiushi startled.

Ruan Nanzhu, “actually, nobody has.” His tone was calm, though all his words were quite shocking. “But it’s the only possibility to consider.” And he paused for a while. “It’s the only path to walk.”

Lin Qiushi was silent.

“You’re resilient. That’s good,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “But not everyone can so easily accept the truth like you can. So they have to have some sort of goal.”

And everybody tacitly set that goal to be the twelve doors.

They firmly believed that once past the twelfth door, there was a new life waiting for them.

Lin Qiushi asked, “and there’s not a shred of evidence proving this?”

Ruan Nanzhu answered, “to anybody else, I’d say there is. But to you, I don’t want to lie.” He closed the laptop, turned, and watched the teammate before him with a deep look in his eyes. “You’re a good match for me.”

Faced with Ruan Nanzhu’s stare, Lin Qiushi felt a bit self-conscious.

That stare went too deep; there was too much hidden inside, so much that Lin Qiushi couldn’t even begin to parse. He asked, “do they all know?”

Ruan Nanzhu, “some know, some don’t.” He flipped up his palm in a gesture of carelessness. “What does it matter either way? This is how we spend our days anyhow.”

They had to go through all those doors anyways, whether they were willing or not.

Lin Qiushi actually didn’t think Ruan Nanzhu would be so candid with him. He’d thought Ruan Nanzhu would at least find a perfunctory excuse, smooth things over—but instead he’d been given the blunt truth.

Lin Qiushi laughed, a bit pained. “Aren’t you overestimating me a bit?”

Ruan Nanzhu blinked. “Am I wrong to?”

Lin Qiushi was silent.

No, Ruan Nanzhu wasn’t wrong. Actually the answer to this question wasn’t all that important. Lin Qiushi had just been curious.

Ruan Nanzhu said, “Cheng Yixie is about to enter his ninth door.”

Lin Qiushi startled.

“I have to go in with him,” Ruan Nanzhu continued. “I was considering whether or not to bring you along.”

Lin Qiushi had already crossed his sixth door. If he could survive Cheng Yixie’s ninth door, then he would be skipping right over his seventh and eighth doors.

Lin Qiushi said, “and have you reached a decision?”

“No,” Ruan Nanzhu answered. “Not yet, at any rate. You? What do you think?”

Lin Qiushi gave it some thought, then answered honestly: “I don’t know.”

Seeing how he answered, Ruan Nanzhu actually grinned. He said, “Lin Qiushi, I like you a lot. We work well together, a match made in heaven.”

He said this quite plainly, and Lin Qiushi didn’t feel like there was anything wrong with the statement—he really was quite happy working together with Ruan Nanzhu.

“Go on,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “Get some rest.”

Lin Qiushi nodded, got up, and left.

Though Ruan Nanzhu had brought it up many times now, honestly, Lin Qiushi didn’t have much of a sense of his own peculiarity.

Not until the newbie who’d joined them previously, that Qin Budai, had a sudden incident.

It was Lin Qiushi who first came upon it. That day, he’d woken up in the middle of the night from hunger pangs, and gone downstairs in search of something to eat.

But when he got to the doorway, he heard the sound of ravenous gobbling coming from within.

Footsteps stalling, Lin Qiushi didn’t turn the lights on. He quietly entered the kitchen instead, and saw, by dim moonlight, Qin Budai squatting in a corner.

Qin Budai was crouched on the floor, a large slab of raw meat in hand. He had his head down, and was furiously chewing at this meat; he hadn’t heard Lin Qiushi approaching, enraptured by the act with all his heart and soul.

This scene was far too eerie. It even gave Lin Qiushi the impression that he might still be in a door. Luckily it was only a momentary illusion. Lin Qiushi was hesitant, but still opened his mouth, and called out: “Qin Budai…”

Qin Budai’s motions halted, and his face went frozen. Slowly lifting his head, he saw Lin Qiushi standing in the doorway.

The moment their gazes met, Lin Qiushi even felt as if the thing crouching before him wasn’t a person, but instead a wild animal.

Quickly though, Qin Budai regained his senses. He slowly got up, and tossed the meat to the side.

“Let me explain…” he said, as he began approaching Lin Qiushi.

A part of Lin Qiushi wanted to back away, but he stifled this instinct, until Qin Budai stood in front of him.

Qin Budai said, “I don’t want to be doing this, but I also can’t help myself.” He licked his lips, gaze lingering on Lin Qiushi’s long, pale neck, before looking down. “I really… really can’t help it anymore.”

Names in this chapter:

• Qín Búdài / Qin(2) Bu(2) Dai(4) / 秦不殆