Plague Doctor Chapter 528: Right Hand

Chapter 528: Right Hand

As the day moved to noon, the clouds in the sky lightened and more and more hikers appeared. Among them were Peng Hui, and Zhang Guorui, they were a group of high-schoolers. They had hiking activities during the weekend. But only halfway through the climb, several of the girls started to jokingly complain, "I'm so tired." "How much longer?" "We're not even halfway through yet." 

Their hiking trail was just beginning, no one was going to come down so soon. That was the thought when they saw a fat man running down the steps in heavy breaths. The weather was cold but the man was covered in sweat. His grey tracksuit was soaked and stuck with dirt. It looked like he had slipped into a river and seemed to have injured his forehead. Blood dried on his tracksuit as well. When the man squeezed past them, the smell of blood thickened. 

Peng Hui had an allergic nose. Being hit by the smell, he sneezed immediately. "What kind of smell is that…" he grumbled. It was worse than when he visited the meat market with his mother. With the thought of the meat stalls in his mind, Peng Hui turned to study the man bouncing down the steps. Some memory fragments appeared in his mind. The butcher raised the cleaver high and chopped away the pork. With heavy thuds, the pork was sliced into pieces. Blood slid down the blade and splattered onto the butcher…

"Did he fall into the river?"

"There's no river on this mountain, it's probably just some ditch."

"Is he here to fish? Such bad luck then…" The group discussed as they continued on the trail. Therefore, the school warned them to be careful when they went hiking. That was how accidents happened. The luckier ones were rescued, the others, well…. Such incidents did happen in the past. Thankfully, the fat man's injury did not appear to be serious, after all, he could still run down the steps. The group gossiped and tossed this behind them. Only Peng Fei felt discomfited by this encounter. He turned back several times until the tracksuit disappeared from his sight.

The footfalls that fell on the step were heavy. Fresh blood dripped on the dark yellow leaves. Tan Jinming moved very fast and the speed originated from his fear. His blank mind buzzed. 'What have I done, what have I done… Zibo and the gang…'

'No, do not blame yourself, you did not do anything wrong, not even a little. You are only doing what everyone else is doing. It is the survival of the fittest, that is truth, the truth of this world…'

"Ah!" Tan Jinming gripped his mind. "Go away, go away!" He wanted to chase the voice away, it was the voice who made him do all those things. It was the voice who pushed him towards it…

'Really? But I did not push you, I merely showed you what you were really thinking. You have been concealing yourself for years. Honestly, I know you hate that nickname Fatty Ming, you've hated it since you were young. You are not happy whenever your friends call you that. You wanted for them to shut up. You have gotten used to it but that was a lie just to make yourself feel better… You care about it, you merely have given up the fight, you surrendered. Was I wrong? Did you not savor the taste of victory earlier? You know you want more…'

"Go away…" Tan Jinming pressed harder on his mind. He wanted to reach his hands into his mind to yank the voice out. His face was green. He almost tripped and fell down the steps. Tan Jinming stopped and he wanted to cry, wail like he had never done better. The things that he did flashed before his eyes. The panic, gory screams echoed in his ears.

"Fatty Ming! Fatty Ming… Don't!" He had no idea where he got his strength. The two strong men could barely resist him. He lifted them up like ragdolls. He slammed them against the rocks in the stream. Their brain buzzed and they couldn't even get up anymore. They moaned and pleaded for mercy. They were like helpless children. They lost, that was their fault for losing…

Bang, bang, bang! That was the sound of their skulls smas.h.i.+ng against the rocks. Again and again. Blood splattered and eventually the flesh mushed. The water still flowed freely but the clear water was now stained by blood. Leaves fluttered into the stream. Suddenly something dropped heavily into the air. It was an eyeball.

"No, no…" Tan Jinming choked. He looked aimlessly into the cloudy sky. The ray lit up his suppressed memory. He remembered his history with w.a.n.g Zibo, how they bonded at university and graduated together… They made a promise that at w.a.n.g Zibo's wedding, Fatty Ming would be his bestman. During Fatty Ming's wedding, w.a.n.g Zibo would be his bestman too. After they entered society, many university friends drifted away, but w.a.n.g Zibo was different. They were real friends that would call and come out for meals every so often. They were real friends…

"Ah, go away!" Tan Jinming gripped his brain. He wanted to yank his head off. He regretted what he had done and feared the consequences. 'I didn't mean to do that. I never wanted that, I would never do that to Zibo and the rest of the gang…' More memory fragments flashed before his eyes. The girls cried and then were stunned into silence. They tried to run but neither of them escaped.

Tan Jinming could not explain his speed, he normally wouldn't run so fast. He'd be low on breath after a few quick steps. He'd lose his breaths after climbing a few flights of steps, he would never move so fast…

'Why? Why do you insist on looking down on yourself? Does it make you feel better? When you put yourself at the lowest position and have nothing left, there is nothing for you to lose, thus there is no pressure of compet.i.tion. You have given up on compet.i.tion, you've given up on yourself. But that was before, Fatty Ming can become better. You are different now, you can be different.'

"Go away!" Tan Jinming knelt to the ground. Snots and tears covered his face. He rammed his forehead against the ground. He couldn't stand the voice anymore, that was not his real thought… His actions confused the pa.s.sing hikers. They grumbled among themselves. They thought they ran into a drunkard or a madman. A kind big sister stopped to ask, "h.e.l.lo, what's wrong? Do you need us to call for help?"

"I…" Tan Jinming paused and then flew down the steps. Panic, fear crawled all over his body. 'So many people have seen me… There is a surveillance camera at the start of the hiking trail, it has captured everything. I came with Zibo and the gang… And I took Zibo's car to come here. The dashcam would show that.' Tan Jinming gradually slowed down with defeat. Where could he go, there was no place for him to hide. 

'Hide? Why hide? Haven't you hidden yourself long enough? Try something else, you are capable of more than that.' 

Tan Jinming looked around. The chilly wind crawled through his clothes and skin. He felt emptied of everything. He had committed an irreversible mistake. He deserved to die… but… Tears slid down his cheeks. Tan Jinming's shaking hands took out his phone, dyeing it with blood. He pressed on the screen and in a choking breath send a message for his mother, "Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't want to do it." Then he sent the same message to his father. 

After that, Tan Jinming turned to walk towards the edge of the steps. The hiking trail was protected by stone rail. The rail was not tall, it could be crossed over easily by an adult. Beyond the rail was a valley surrounded by fog. There was an incident where a tourist was taking a picture while sitting on the rail. He was careless and tumbled backwards to his death. 

Tan Jinming stood beside the rail. He pressed his hands against it and wanted to flip over. Suddenly his right hand gripped the rail tight. His expression colored with fear… This…

While Tan Jinming was shocked, his right hand let go and went to pull at his hair. It pulled hard and Tan Jinming screamed from the pain. He wanted to let go but his right hand was no longer under his control. It yanked even harder. The right hand used a strange angle to pull at Tan Jinming, moving further away from the rail. 

"Ah…" Tan Jinming hissed through the pain. His eyes were pulsing with red. His right hand was no longer his. It had come alive, it was that voice… 

The voice which had become clearer. It spoke to him, "h.e.l.lo, negative selection."