Infinite Nightmares

Zhang Wenda stared at the monster in the mirror. He saw the extreme hatred in its eyes, the hollow voids covering its body, and its razor-sharp scythes. At this moment, he was utterly panicked.

He trembled as he lowered his head to look at his fingers. His once-normal fingers had, at some unknown point, twisted into gnarled hooks, giving off a deathly glint in the moonlight from the window.

He didn’t know when it had happened, but his body had completely changed.

"I... I’m a monster? I... I’m..." Zhang Wenda’s voice was filled with disbelief. "No, this is impossible! I’m human! I’m human!"

He tried to smooth over the black voids on his body with his hands, but all he managed to do was cut himself and bleed profusely. It had no other effect.

"Of course you’re a monster." A voice from the window rooted Zhang Wenda to the spot.

The speaker was Song Jianguo. At that moment, she was resting her hands on the windowsill, looking inside with curiosity.

"Besides, look at it this way. Cats and cats make cats. Humans and humans make humans. So, monsters and monsters can only make monsters. Your parents are monsters, so you can only be a little monster. It’s perfectly logical. What’s there to be angry about?"

"No! I’m not! I’m different from them! I’m human!" Zhang Wenda’s backward-jointed legs suddenly sprang with power, bringing him in front of Song Jianguo in an instant.

"You’ve always been a monster," Song Jianguo replied calmly, tilting her head back to look up at him.

"Back in the library, when you used the Yellow Core to become an adult, this is how you’ve always looked in my eyes. Exactly like you do now. You always turn into this form whenever you go into the adult world. Did you really not know? I thought you knew."

Zhang Wenda’s furious roar made the windowpanes rattle. "Enough! I’m not like them! I’m not like them!"

Seeing Zhang Wenda’s visceral reaction, Song Jianguo only became more enthusiastic. "What’s different? Haven’t you noticed there’s something wrong with you? I’ve actually wanted to say this for a while. You have a terrible personality—you’re tyrannical and pig-headed, and you never listen to advice. Aren’t you just cast from the same mold as the parents you talk about?"

"Enough!" He grabbed Song Jianguo’s arms with force, just like he always did. But he had forgotten—he no longer had hands.

Those sharp scythes easily sliced through Song Jianguo’s skin and muscle.

"Ow!! You monster!!" Feeling attacked, Song Jianguo opened her mouth and bit down hard on his arm.

When he saw blood spurt from Song Jianguo’s wounds, Zhang Wenda was terrified. He had hurt someone. Just like them, he had hurt someone for no reason.

Zhang Wenda quickly let go. He looked at the injured Song Jianguo, completely at a loss. He wanted to help her, but in his current state, he couldn’t.

He took two steps back, staring in disbelief at the blood-soaked scythes that were his hands.

All he had left were ten sharp scythes in place of fingers. He had become just like his parents; no matter what he did, the result was always hurting others.

"How could this happen... How could this happen?" Zhang Wenda watched the injured Song Jianguo in fear as he slowly backed away.

"Are you crazy! What the hell are you doing!" Song Jianguo clutched her injured arm, striding forward menacingly.

"Don’t come near me! Stay away from me!" Zhang Wenda was terrified. He scrambled backward, trying desperately to get away from anyone who showed him kindness.

"Go, get away from me! You’re free. You don’t have to see me anymore!"

Song Jianguo froze when she heard this. "Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Get away from me, the farther the better! Go! You’re free!"

Zhang Wenda didn’t want to be near anyone he cared about anymore. As long as they didn’t come close, they wouldn’t be hurt by him.

Song Jianguo opened her mouth, about to say something more, but the collar quickly took effect. She immediately complied, turning and leaving the room without a backward glance.

In the now-trashed room, Zhang Wenda trembled as he once again looked down at his blood-drenched scythes. Tears streamed from his hollow eye sockets.

Just then, footsteps sounded from the doorway. Zhang Wenda looked over in terror, but in the next instant, the sound of gunshots rang out, and several bullets slammed into his body.

Panicked, Zhang Wenda raised his scythe-hands to block, but it was useless. Blood flowed continuously from the bullet holes. "Go away! I don’t want to hurt you! I’m not like them!"

But no matter what he said, the figures that appeared in the doorway showed no intention of stopping their attack. Bullet after bullet flew into the voids on Zhang Wenda’s body, tearing them even wider.

There were seven of them in total. They were all big and burly, and each had some kind of weapon mounted on their head.

"This little bastard is tougher than he looks. Let’s torture him good. He’s got a death wish, messing with us!"

"What a waste. Looks like he’s scared stiff. Let me have a go."

Seeing that Zhang Wenda wasn’t fighting back at all, a cruel look appeared on their faces. They prepared to properly torture this guy who had ruined their plans.

Zhang Wenda realized with despair that nothing he said was working. He really didn’t want to become like them, resorting to nothing but violence.

Finally, a roaring chainsaw slammed directly onto his shoulder.

The intense pain instantly consumed what little reason Zhang Wenda had left, replacing it with pure rage. He opened his grotesque mouth and let out a deafening roar.

With a WHOOSH, Zhang Wenda vanished from his spot. When he reappeared, he was behind a man with a dagger on his head.

His incredibly sharp scythes sliced into the man’s body as easily as cutting through butter. Then, with a demonic howl, Zhang Wenda pulled his hands apart, instantly tearing the man’s body in two.

Blood and viscera flew through the air. The men who had just been mockingly watching Zhang Wenda now stared in terror, their cigarette-dangling mouths agape.

"Die! Just die!" Zhang Wenda was a whirlwind, a blur of motion darting back and forth across the room. Each pass left a shattered body in its wake.

The moment the pieces of the third man’s corpse hit the floor, the remaining men were finally gripped by the fear of imminent death. They realized they had picked a fight with the wrong person.

"Run! The intel was wrong!" Before the speaker could finish his sentence, his head was separated from his body.

Of the seven men, only two managed to escape. When questioned by their boss, they were clearly terrified and spoke incoherently.

When Zhang Wenda finally stopped, he could barely stand. A stream of hot white vapor puffed from his mouth and nose.

Grievously wounded, he saw the chunks of flesh strewn across the floor, and his legs gave out, sending him sprawling to the ground.

When he had attacked them, he hadn’t felt pain. Instead, he had felt a kind of perverse satisfaction, as if he had vented all his pent-up frustrations on them.

At this moment, he finally accepted reality. Song Jianguo was right. Monsters can only give birth to monsters; they can’t produce a healthy child.