Infinite Nightmares

The sudden, world-altering change left Zhang Wenda utterly dumbfounded.

The appearance of this rift, like an inverted peak from the Himalayas, was so abrupt.

But strangely, neither the Little Black Cats on the island’s surface, the Hippocampus, the Blue Whales in the water, nor even the clowns from the circus seemed to see it at all.

Just then, the last spark of subconsciousness in Zhang Wenda’s hand flickered out, and that voice, which was his own, spoke again.

"They’ve long since grown used to it. You’re the only one who has been pretending it doesn’t exist."

With a complex expression, Zhang Wenda walked to the edge of the great red rift and peered down into its bottomless depths.

As he stared at the crimson expanse stretching from top to bottom, Zhang Wenda finally understood what the Blue Rabbit had meant by "too much red."

’So this is the source of it all, the cause of everything. But I could never see it before.’

’Now that I’ve found the source, if I can just get rid of it, does that mean I won’t have so much red on me anymore?’

Zhang Wenda didn’t know if his guess was correct, but it seemed he had no other choice.

Zhang Wenda decisively took a step forward and slid straight down the steep incline of the giant red rift. The speed of his descent was so great that he could barely see his surroundings.

He felt himself fall through two distinct spaces. This neocortex region was even more bizarre and fantastical than the island’s surface.

Right now, however, Zhang Wenda was in no mood to gawk at the scenery. He focused all his attention downward.

He finally came to a stop when he reached the sixth and deepest layer.

He had just landed and hadn’t even steadied himself when he heard a harsh, scraping sound.

When he steadied himself and looked toward the source of the sound, he finally saw what had created the red rift.

At the very bottom of the red rift, within a dark forest where space and time were a chaotic mess, a scythe monster wreathed in flames was raising its sharp hands. It was furiously digging downward, as if trying to break all the way through the bottom of the chasm.

That was it—the red, the source of all his redness. The crimson staining the canyon walls was the blood from the monster’s mangled flesh.

’It was hard to imagine how much time and energy it must have spent digging from the island’s surface all the way down to this deepest point.’

The entire canyon was embedded in his mind like a scar.

Zhang Wenda saw it, and it saw him.

𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

It lowered its bloody, mangled hands and let out a furious roar at Zhang Wenda. When it saw that he had no intention of stopping it, the creature resumed its arduous digging.

"Hey, Red, stop digging." Zhang Wenda walked over and reached for its arms, but the creature violently shook him off.

Immediately after, Zhang Wenda felt a bloodcurdling, predatory gaze lock onto him.

The next second, a fierce wind howled, and a red afterimage shot toward Zhang Wenda.

Zhang Wenda raised both arms to block. Their scythes clashed, sending sparks flying. He kicked his opponent in the stomach, sending it flying several meters back, and then charged in after it.

Both were scythe monsters, their strength and abilities nearly identical. In an instant, they were locked in a desperate struggle within the dim forest.

The more Zhang Wenda fought, the stronger the hostility in his heart became. As his aggression grew, his speed and strength increased.

Yet, at the same time, his opponent grew stronger in equal measure. It was as if Zhang Wenda were fighting himself.

Seeing that brute force wasn’t working, Zhang Wenda stopped confronting it head-on and instead lured it deeper into the forest.

Trees toppled and dust flew everywhere they went.

When the dust obscured their vision, Zhang Wenda knew his chance had come.

’Red was indeed powerful, but I know my own weaknesses. Its strength was bought at the cost of reason.’

Under the cover of the dust, Zhang Wenda quickly set a vine snare for its feet.

The trap was crude, but it was just enough to tip the perfectly balanced scales in his favor.

The moment its right foot was caught, Zhang Wenda flashed behind it.

It was too late for the creature to dodge. Zhang Wenda thrust his right hand forward, plunging the scythe directly into its chest.

However, when he pulled the scythe out, he discovered that its body healed instantly. It was completely unharmed.

Seizing the moment of his stunned hesitation, the roles of attacker and defender reversed. With a sickening SCHLICK, the creature’s sharp scythe pierced through Zhang Wenda’s chest.

At such a close distance, he finally saw the scars on its body, hidden beneath the flames and white steam.

When Zhang Wenda saw the deep ligature marks around its ankle, his body trembled.

It was from an afternoon during summer vacation. Covered in bruises, he had been hung upside down against a wall. He had struggled, his back rubbing against the bedsheet as he tried to untie the rope, only for his mother to kick him down. Then came the words he would never forget: "Honestly! You’re getting the blanket all wet with your sweat!"

Now, Zhang Wenda finally saw clearly. This monster was different from him. Its body had no empty voids; it was formed entirely from a mass of red scars—large and small, deep and shallow.

Every scar brought back a fragment of a vaguely familiar memory.

Seeing all this, he finally understood what it was.

Zhang Wenda’s hands, once raised to fight, slowly opened into an embrace, and he gently pulled the creature close.

The creature didn’t seem to react, continuing to slash frantically at Zhang Wenda’s chest. But Zhang Wenda simply held it tight, stroking its back again and again with his right hand.

Faced with the creature’s ferocious attacks, Zhang Wenda responded with gentleness for the first time.

"It’s okay. It’s okay! Everything’s going to be all right. It’s over now. It’s all in the past."

Gradually, the creature’s attacks grew weaker. The flames died down, the white steam faded, and the scars all over its body began to loosen and crumble away.

Under Zhang Wenda’s comforting touch, the body of the ferocious, thorn-covered monster gradually shrank, eventually transforming into a red, seven- or eight-year-old boy.

He was Zhang Wenda—the part of him that had never moved on, the part that had tormented him day and night.

Buried beneath layers of scars and shadows, he had never grown up. Everything about him was still trapped in the past.

Now, he lay in Zhang Wenda’s arms and wailed. "I’m so sad..." he choked out between sobs. "I’m so scared... It hurts so much..."

"I want someone to hold me... but no one ever does... I just want someone to hold me..."