The reddish-brown sludge contained tiny grains of sand, and the texture on my fingertips didn't feel like blood at all.
"A false alarm." I turned off the faucet, and the gurgling sound from the pipes stopped.
"This place reeks of weirdness everywhere, but there's no sign of any evil spirit at work. It's like some filthy thing is playing hide-and-seek with me."
The pressure weighed heavily on me. This livestream mission was even more torturous than waiting to die at the Anxin Motel. It felt as if an invisible giant hand was controlling my fate from the darkness. It was a terrible feeling.
I pushed open the inner door to find rows of single stalls.
"Shen Meng? Are you here?" No response. I tried pushing open the door to one stall.
"Wait."
Xiumu had come in silently. He grabbed my hand as I pushed the door. "Streamer, you should know the taboo about toilets here. Opening a door that's ajar late at night might get you grabbed by the haunted doll trapped inside."
"Haunted doll?"
"There used to be a homeless girl here at school. She was only sixteen when she got pregnant, and the guy disappeared after transferring away. Poor girl ended up committing suicide in this very restroom."
"If the guy was already an adult, legally he could have been sentenced to death." I showed no expression, shaking off Xiumu's hand and pushing open the first stall door.
Moss grew between the shattered porcelain tiles; the walls were mottled, smeared with some unknown substance.
"Don't take this lightly! These school legends must have some basis." Xiumu ran to the second stall and said, "Before opening a door, you should knock first."
He raised his hand and knocked on the whitewashed door: "Is anyone there? Miss Homeless Girl, I'm here to keep you company."
His odd behavior, the low voice, and this eerie environment made an inexplicable fear rise inside me.
I took a breath, lifted the camera, and quickly opened the stall doors one by one in order.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Thud!
By the time I reached the last door, the familiar thud thud sounds echoed again.
"Strange, this door is locked?"
Everyone knew restroom stall doors could only be locked from inside. I signaled the three kids to step back and lightly tapped the ground with my right foot.
"What are you doing?"
Bang! A loud crash filled the lab building as I kicked the door open.
Pointing the camera at the stall, no ghosts or spirits appeared, but I still jumped at the sight.
On the toilet sat a plush toy with its head ripped off.
Brushing the dust off, I zoomed in: "Looks like this thing has been here a long time."
The toy's head was cut off with scissors, exposing tattered stuffing. Looking closer, I spotted two faint Chinese characters written on its belly.
"Xue Fei?"
Too much time had passed and the handwriting was blurry. I could only half-recognize it, half-guess: "Same name, or maybe…"
"Streamer, what do you see?" Xiumu and Xue Fei came closer.
"Nothing. Just a broken toy." I tossed it aside without a change in expression. "Shen Meng isn't here. Let's keep looking. The longer we wait, the more time we waste."
We left the first-floor restroom and headed upstairs. On the way, Xiumu even counted the stairs. To his disappointment, there were only twelve steps—no extra thirteenth step.
Most classrooms on the second floor were locked; only the music room and the infirmary were open.
The two rooms were far apart. I took the camera and first opened the infirmary door. Beds were separated by curtains, tightly drawn so you couldn't see anything clearly.
"Iodophor, alcohol, reagents…" The cabinet by the door was cluttered with medicines. Used, yellow-brown bandages lay on the floor. Further in, scattered medical records caught my eye.
I bent down to pick some up. Most were from five years ago. The paper was gnawed by mice; the writing blurred. But I could barely make out the name Guo Junjie in the name field.
"Looks like that kid was a regular here. Not only mentally abused but physically tortured frequently."
Surprisingly, all photos on the records had been torn off. That kid's face seemed to be a secret the school wanted to hide.
"Minor injury to left ear, slight fracture on pinky, multiple bruises on thigh." Every medical report listed minor injuries, but the frequency and variety on one person spoke volumes.
"Weaklings get bullied, and if they don't fight back, the abuse only worsens."
Pulling aside a curtain at a bed, I saw shocking bloodstains on a worn-out mattress.
Though it was long ago, the blood had dried and fused with the sheets, its color faded, but it still sent chills down my spine.
"What happened? Why so much blood?"
I searched the cabinet and found the most recent medical record.
"Fall from height, pelvic crush, massive internal bleeding, skull fracture."
These symptoms reminded me of an online rumor about Xinhu High School — that before the school was shut down, several students had jumped to their deaths.
The medical records stored here indirectly confirmed that the jumpings were not rumors. Staring at the bloodied bed, I was puzzled.
Normally, schools would isolate a suicide scene and call 110 and 120 (police and ambulance), never move the body themselves, let alone bring it to the infirmary.
I checked more records; my face darkened.
"Death wasn't isolated." Before the school closed, at least five people had jumped. These were official records — not counting those deliberately hidden — I guessed there were many more suicides.
"Academic pressure? Relationship troubles?" I shook my head. "The deaths followed a strange pattern, as if planned."
"What happened to these students?" Five years was enough to erase the truth. The medical files were incomplete; most names were unreadable, leaving only black-and-white printed photos.
"Cause of death is a key to solving the mystery. Looks like we'll be staying longer in this infirmary."
I pulled aside the curtain of the next bed. The blood-stained sheets were crumpled and blackened.
Lifting the sheet with one hand, I revealed a severely rotten school uniform inside.
I held back the stench and spread the uniform on the bed. "Wang Xiu?"
The school badge on the chest had a name—three characters—but the last character was too blurred to read.
I pulled back a few more curtains. The conditions were similar. When I reached the last bed and grabbed the curtain, I suddenly felt something brush against me from inside.
"Shen Meng?" I stepped back. That sensation told me something was definitely hiding there.
I maxed out my phone's flashlight. The curtain edge was twitching, as if a fish had just been hauled ashore and was flapping.
"Is that you? Say something!" No reply. I approached again and grabbed the curtain.
Ding ding ding!
Suddenly, urgent piano notes came from the other end of the hallway. My hand trembled, and I didn't dare pull the curtain further.
I grabbed the camera and rushed toward the source of the music. After I left, the infirmary fell deathly silent. Only the last bed showed movement — a plastic mannequin's arm slowly stretched out.
"What's going on?" I gasped as I ran to the end of the hallway. The three kids were gathered by the piano. "Were you playing just now?"
"Ask him! It's all his fault!" Xue Fei shoved Xiumu toward me.
Xiumu looked wronged. "You guys are seriously accusing me this time. I didn't touch the piano."
"Yingzi and I were in the hallway. You were alone in there. If it wasn't you, then who? Did it play by itself?" Xue Fei grabbed Xiumu's collar.
Xiumu's feet left the ground, but his voice was stubborn: "It wasn't me! There's definitely something else in that room!"
"Bullshit! I'm telling you, if we don't find Shen Meng today, you won't be going home either!"
"Enough fighting. Maybe it really wasn't Xiumu." I clutched the camera; my palm was sweaty. "All four of us are inside that room now. Hold your breath and listen carefully."
Footsteps came from down the hall, growing clearer.
"It's Shen Meng!" Xue Fei released Xiumu's collar and dashed to the door.
I reached out to stop him but missed.
"Shen Meng, you're back?" The footsteps stopped at the door. Xue Fei looked up hopefully—only to see a crooked, dull plastic mannequin face stretching into the room.