The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting a suffocating darkness over the road as Zhao Xi and Sun Cheng rode closer to Qing Shan County. But the silence in the air felt strange, like a heavy blanket that smothered the natural rhythms of life. There were no voices in the distance, no calls of vendors packing up their stalls, no barking dogs or rustling trees. The absence of sound was oppressive—unnaturally so.

Zhao Xi's grip on his reins tightened, and his senses prickled with unease. He stopped his horse, signaling Sun Cheng to do the same. His voice dropped to a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the eerie stillness. “Do you hear that?” he asked, eyes scanning the darkened horizon. “There’s no sound. Not a thing. It’s like this whole place is holding its breath... like a tomb.”

Sun Cheng, who had initially been teasing Zhao Xi about the girl's involvement, no longer wore a grin. His face was taut, and his eyes darted nervously around the landscape. He glanced over at Zhao Xi and, for the first time, spoke with a tone of seriousness that matched his superior’s. “Yes, I feel it too. This place... it’s like a dead city. Like everyone just vanished, or... was silenced.”

The two men exchanged a look. What had they stumbled into? Something was terribly wrong in Qing Shan, and the closer they got, the more foreboding the situation seemed.

They rode to the town’s outskirts, where the old relay station—once a bustling hub for travelers—stood silent and abandoned. Zhao Xi dismounted first, the stiffened air making the hairs on his neck stand on end. He approached the door and knocked, his knuckles rapping against the weathered wood. He waited, listening intently for any response, but the silence persisted. No one answered.

With a quick glance at Sun Cheng, Zhao Xi tried the door. To his surprise, it opened with a soft creak. The hinges groaned under the pressure as they stepped inside. What they found sent a chill down their spines.

The inside of the relay station, once pristine and orderly, now resembled a war zone. Furniture was overturned, papers scattered across the floor, and the smell of decay hung thick in the air, mingling with the mustiness of the forgotten space. It looked as though the station had been ransacked—broken bottles, torn curtains, and overturned chairs created a chaotic scene.

Zhao Xi’s heart pounded in his chest. "This wasn't an ordinary robbery," he muttered. "This looks like... panic. As if people were fleeing in a hurry. Or worse, being driven to madness."

Sun Cheng, his eyes wide, reached for the sidearm strapped to his waist. He could feel the weight of the atmosphere pressing against his chest, urging him to act quickly. “Secretary, we should be careful. Something isn’t right here. Stay close.”

Zhao Xi nodded, his instincts on high alert. “Let’s check the back. We need to understand what happened here.”

The two men proceeded cautiously through the building, the creak of floorboards and the faint rustling of their clothes the only sounds breaking the silence. When they reached the back of the station, the sight that greeted them was enough to make even the most seasoned of soldiers gag.

In the stables behind the station, the bodies of horses lay strewn across the ground. But it wasn’t the number of horses that disturbed them—it was how they had died. The animals were grotesquely mutilated. Their mouths were stretched open in horrific yawns, their eyes bulging with terror, frozen in their final moments. But it was the absence of their internal organs that made the sight even more chilling.

Sun Cheng stepped forward, his hand tightening on the grip of his gun. “These horses... they’ve been torn apart. Look at their mouths and eyes—they were attacked. Whatever did this... it was fast and vicious.” His voice was low, a note of disbelief creeping into his tone.

Zhao Xi bent down, inspecting the carcasses more closely. “There’s something else,” he said, his voice tight with suspicion. He pointed to the surrounding area—muddy earth, trampled grass. There were footprints everywhere. Many of them. And they were all human.

Zhao Xi stood up, scanning the prints with a sharp eye. “These are definitely human prints. But why... why would people do this to animals? What kind of person... would tear apart horses like this?”

Sun Cheng frowned, his face a picture of confusion and disgust. “I don’t know, Secretary. This... this doesn’t make any sense. But I feel like we’re being led into something darker. Something... dangerous. We should leave this place. There’s nothing good here.”

Zhao Xi hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the lifeless bodies of the horses. A gut feeling told him that this wasn’t just some random act of cruelty. There was something larger at play here. Something he needed to uncover.

But Sun Cheng was right. It was time to leave.

“Alright, we’ll head into the town,” Zhao Xi said, his voice more decisive now. “We need to figure out what happened here. And we need to find out why... this place is so silent. Where is everyone? And more importantly, what did they leave behind?”

With that, they turned away from the stables and made their way back to the streets of Qing Shan. The town loomed ahead, dark and still—silent in a way that felt suffocating, like a place trapped between life and death. The moon hung high above them, casting long shadows that twisted and distorted as they walked.

The deeper they ventured, the more it seemed as if Qing Shan itself was holding its breath—waiting for them to uncover its terrible secrets.

The descent into Qing Shan’s heart of darkness quickened as Zhao Xi and Sun Cheng made their way toward the tailor shop at the edge of town. The dimming light of dusk cast long, eerie shadows on the deserted streets, and not a single flicker of firelight or sound of human activity broke the silence. The entire town was plunged into an uncanny stillness, as if holding its breath, waiting for something unspeakable to emerge.

Sun Cheng glanced nervously around, his hand hovering near the grip of his pistol. “Secretary,” he said cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper, “look at the streets—there’s not a single light anywhere. If we don’t finish this before dark, we won’t be able to see a thing. Who knows what might happen?”

Zhao Xi hesitated for a moment, considering his companion’s words. He wanted to go to the government building, to uncover what Wei Tian had been hiding in his office, but Sun Cheng was right—the growing darkness brought with it an oppressive sense of danger. He couldn’t predict what lay ahead, and the faint light of their flashlights wouldn’t be enough to keep the unknown at bay. With a reluctant nod, he made his decision. “You’re right. Let’s head for the tailor shop first.”

The two moved quickly through the lifeless streets, the fading sunlight casting the town in an otherworldly orange glow. Just as they neared the tailor shop, Zhao Xi’s ears caught a faint, wet sound coming from a nearby clay-tiled house. He froze mid-step, raising a hand to signal Sun Cheng to stop. His ears strained to catch the sound again. There it was—a grotesque, slurping noise, accompanied by faint, animalistic grunts. It was the sound of something—or someone—feeding.

Zhao Xi turned his gaze toward the house, a dilapidated structure with a partially caved-in roof. The door hung ajar, and the noise seemed to emanate from the darkened interior. Zhao Xi glanced at Sun Cheng, and their eyes met. The unspoken question lingered between them: Do we investigate?

With a nod, Sun Cheng indicated he was ready. Zhao Xi motioned for him to stay close as they crept toward the sound. They moved as silently as possible, hugging the walls of the alley, their steps cautious and deliberate. As they reached the corner, they peered around the edge, their breath catching in their throats at the sight before them.

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In the faint remnants of daylight filtering through the alley, they saw two figures crawling on all fours, their limbs grotesquely twisted at unnatural angles. The figures were human—or had been once. Their clothes were tattered, their skin pale and mottled, and their movements jerky, like broken marionettes. They were hunched over something on the ground, their hands digging into it with frantic desperation. Zhao Xi’s stomach churned as he realized what it was—a small animal, perhaps a cat or a dog, its body torn open, its entrails spilling out onto the dirt. The creatures—people—were devouring it with savage hunger, their hands plunging into the carcass to pull out organs, which they shoved into their bloodied mouths.

Zhao Xi sucked in a sharp breath, the sight chilling him to his core. Beside him, Sun Cheng clapped a hand over his own mouth, suppressing the urge to gag. The younger man’s eyes were wide with horror, his face pale as a ghost. Zhao Xi leaned closer to his ear, whispering urgently, “We need to get out of here. Quietly.”

They began to back away slowly, their footsteps barely making a sound on the dirt. But just as they were about to retreat into the street, a creaking noise froze them in place. Behind them, the door of another house groaned open, and from the shadowy doorway, another figure emerged.

This one was worse. It crawled on all fours like the others, but its movements were faster, more deliberate. Its face was smeared with blood, and its eyes glinted in the fading light with a predatory intensity. It stared at them with a twisted smile, its lips pulling back to reveal bloodied teeth. And then it made a sound—a high-pitched, chittering noise, like a rat’s squeak but louder and more menacing. “Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch!” The creature’s head tilted unnaturally to one side as it stared at them, its smile stretching wider as though it had just found a meal.

Zhao Xi’s blood turned to ice as the creature lunged forward, its hands scrabbling at the dirt, moving unnaturally fast. Behind it, the two figures in the alley turned their heads toward the noise. Their eyes locked onto Zhao Xi and Sun Cheng, and they too began crawling toward them, their twisted limbs propelling them with horrifying speed.

“Run!” Zhao Xi barked, his voice breaking through the paralysis that had gripped them both. Sun Cheng didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted down the alley, with Zhao Xi close behind. The sound of claws—or hands—scraping against the ground grew louder as the creatures pursued them.

As they ran, Sun Cheng shouted over his shoulder, “What the hell are these things?! Are they people? They can’t be people—they’re crazy!”

Zhao Xi didn’t respond immediately, his breath coming in ragged gasps. When he did, his voice was grim. “They’re not people anymore. Whatever they are, we can’t stop to fight them. Not now.”

“But we have guns!” Sun Cheng argued, his hand instinctively reaching for the pistol at his side. “We could—”

“No!” Zhao Xi cut him off sharply. “Do you want to alert the whole town? If we fire now, we’ll bring every one of these... things... straight to us. We can’t take that risk. Just keep running!”

The two men sprinted through the darkening streets, their footsteps pounding against the cobblestones as the creatures’ grotesque laughter and chittering followed close behind. The shadows of Qing Shan seemed to come alive, closing in around them as they ran. Whatever was happening in this cursed town, Zhao Xi knew one thing for certain—they were no longer in a place governed by reason or humanity. This was something far darker, far more horrifying.

The night was settling in deeper, and the relentless pursuit of the grotesque figures behind them seemed to defy any concept of human fatigue. Zhao Xi and Sun Cheng, already on the brink of exhaustion, knew they had only one option left: to find shelter. Their feet burned, their hearts pounded, and their breath came in shallow gasps, but the fear of what was chasing them drove them forward.

As they stumbled down a familiar street, Zhao Xi’s eyes caught sight of the old post office ahead—a building that, while abandoned for years, could provide them with the fortifications they desperately needed. "Quick," he urged, his voice tense but still steady, "We go inside, shut the doors, and rest. We need a moment to regroup."

Sun Cheng, panting heavily, cast a wary glance at the looming shadows behind them. “Secretary, what if there’s one of them inside?”

Zhao Xi didn’t hesitate. "If we encounter them, we kill them. At least the post office has a solid gate, and those things won't be able to break in easily." Without another word, they bolted for the door. They didn’t slow down until they reached the heavy iron gates of the post office courtyard. With a crash that echoed in the empty streets, they slammed the gate shut just as the first of the grotesque creatures collided with it, its body slamming against the bars with a sickening thud.

"Inside!" Zhao Xi barked, pushing open the creaky door with a forceful shove. The pair rushed into the darkness of the post office. The building, abandoned for what seemed like ages, was eerily silent except for the faintest whisper of wind through cracked windows. The only sound was their frantic breathing, which filled the empty space.

The blackness inside was almost suffocating. Sun Cheng pulled out his flashlight, the beam cutting through the dark like a knife. As they moved deeper into the building, they were greeted by a horrifying sight—a scene of carnage that sent a chill running through their veins. Blood was splattered across the floor, and two lifeless bodies lay crumpled in the middle of the room, their stomachs grotesquely hollowed out. The missing organs were gone, just as the horses outside had been stripped of their innards.

Sun Cheng shuddered. "I... I can't believe this... They were eating humans."

Zhao Xi nodded grimly, his face pale. "These aren't people anymore. Whatever they are, they're beyond human now."

They carefully made their way through the wreckage, stepping over overturned furniture and abandoned items scattered about. They reached the back garden, where bicycles lay discarded in disarray, as though the owners had fled in a panic. Zhao Xi’s eyes darted toward the back of the building. He knew they couldn’t stay here. "We need to move. There’s a back exit, and we’ll get out through there."

But as they approached the back door, Zhao Xi’s eyes narrowed. “Hold on. Look.” He froze and pointed toward the stairwell just ahead. At the base of the stairs, four figures—twisted, contorted, their bodies bent unnaturally—crawled on all fours. Their eyes gleamed an icy blue in the dim light. They were gnawing on something, tearing it apart with frightening intensity.

Sun Cheng’s throat tightened as he whispered, “What the hell... how many of them are there?”

Zhao Xi clenched his teeth. "I’m guessing the upper floors are full of them. They’re feeding."

The two men stood in the shadow of the door, trying to stay out of sight. The grotesque figures did not seem to notice their presence, lost in their madness. The air was thick with the sound of tearing flesh and swallowing.

“We can’t go through there,” Zhao Xi muttered. “But look—those gaps between the buildings. We can slip through. It might be tight, but it’s our best shot.”

Sun Cheng nodded, his eyes wide. "Okay. But if it gets bad, we’re opening fire. No more waiting."

With no other choice, they made their way toward the narrow path between the buildings. As they moved, strange noises—muted, eerie murmurs—drifted down from above. It was a low, gurgling sound, as if the creatures on the floors above were continuing their grotesque feasting.

Zhao Xi’s mind raced, but he forced himself to focus. “Keep moving,” he whispered. “And stay sharp.”

They reached the small alleyway between the post office and the neighboring building and squeezed through the gap. The narrow passage offered no comfort, but at least it allowed them to move unseen. Emerging on the other side, they found themselves in a quieter street, just a short walk from the tailor shop.

Zhao Xi’s chest tightened as he glanced at the darkened shop across the street. The thought of what might have happened to the young woman, the one whose face had haunted him since his arrival in Qing Shan, gnawed at his gut. What if she’s like them now? He shuddered but kept moving.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass behind them made them both freeze in place. Zhao Xi’s heart leapt into his throat as he turned to see a bloodied figure emerge from the post office window. His body was covered in gashes, his eyes wide with terror. But what was worse was that two of the creatures had grabbed him, their jaws gnawing at his legs. The man screamed in pure desperation, his voice a shrill cry in the otherwise quiet night.

“Help! Please! Don’t let them—AAHHH!”

Before either Zhao Xi or Sun Cheng could react, the man turned his gaze toward them, his bloodshot eyes wide with horror. “Help me! Please!” he screamed, his voice breaking. The man’s voice cracked as his legs were shredded. "Please! Don’t let them eat me!"

Without thinking, Sun Cheng raised his pistol and fired. Bang! The shot rang out in the night, echoing through the empty streets. The first creature dropped to the ground with a bullet through its skull, its body falling limp. But the second one—faster, more ferocious—lunged at Sun Cheng with terrifying speed.

In the chaos, Zhao Xi grabbed a shard of broken glass from the ground and plunged it into the creature’s head. It spasmed violently before slumping lifeless to the pavement.

But the man they had tried to save was already beyond help. The gruesome gash in his stomach left him barely clinging to life. His labored breathing sent a final shudder through him as he managed a weak, desperate whisper: "This place... this place is hell. You... you need to leave... now..."

Before Zhao Xi could say another word, the far-off street lit up with dozens of eerie, glowing eyes. The creatures were coming, and fast.

Sun Cheng’s voice trembled. "We need to go. NOW." The two men turned and ran, their feet pounding the pavement, knowing they didn’t have much time left.