Chapter 36: Dressing and Adorning

The exploration of the second-floor bathroom came to an end. This absolute, eerie darkness felt like a fountain pen etching the word "fear" onto the surface of the brain. While Roddy could suppress this emotion by relying on his intense obsession with serial killers, the class monitor was reaching her breaking point. The mental stimulation brought on by fear caused her to instinctively reach out for something to lean on, naturally grasping the object nearby that shared a similar body temperature and felt, in her heart, like a source of support.

As their palms touched, she found warmth, but also an unsettling texture. It was rough, uneven, and partially rigid—not at all like the hand of a high school student, but rather like the palm of a laborer in their thirties or forties. Yet, this discomfort provided an extra sense of security, temporarily curbing her inner terror. The monitor’s gaze shifted upward to look at the owner of the hand, to Roddy. He did not turn his head, merely staring silently ahead at the secondary bedroom. Perhaps, in Roddy’s view, physical contact in such a dark environment was necessary to ensure their mutual safety.

Thus, holding hands, the pair gradually approached the secondary bedroom to check for potential dangers within.

Creak. As the door was pushed open, a pungent, rotting stench billowed out. Light spilled into the room, revealing a space that had not been occupied for ages. It was filled with dust, cobwebs, and all sorts of clutter. This struck Roddy as very strange. Generally, places like these subsidized housing complexes required applications based on family units, and the size of the unit was allocated according to the number of residents. There should not have been an unoccupied bedroom. However, despite being long-sealed, the room contained no immediate threats.

That left only the master bedroom at the very end of the hall.

Hoo. Roddy took a deep breath, gripped the hilt of his knife tightly, and joined the monitor before the master bedroom’s door, which stood slightly ajar. The wooden door was painted a deep crimson, though it did not emit the smell of paint, but rather a cloying, bloody stench.

Pushing the door open, they found the master bedroom’s dimensions similarly distorted; it was twice as large as the living room, comparable to the master suite of a luxury flat. Yet, in such a vast room, only a single candle burned, located deep in a corner atop an embroidered mahogany vanity.

The bride they had seen earlier was sitting there, though her veil had been removed, revealing a scalp with only a few strands of hair remaining, textured like the surface of the moon. This appearance matched the imposter that had broken into the house, though it no longer resembled a spider; its limbs had returned to normal lengths, making it look like a "human." Her hands were moving in front of her, seemingly applying makeup. Because the mirror had been completely shattered, it was impossible to see the woman’s face clearly. Additionally, the "groom" sat on the massive bed—but like the one they had seen in the living room, this groom was merely a paper effigy.

Despite the lack of windows, a chilling wind blew, dimming the vanity’s candle to its lowest flicker. At the same moment, the woman’s voice echoed through the bedroom:

"Humans of your age usually find it impossible to escape my grasp, yet you managed to slip away perfectly during my ambush. As expected, this young girl is quite different. Her appearance, her hair, her figure—they are the most perfect I have ever seen in my life. The moment she knocked on my door, I knew she was the one. Wonderful! With this face and this hair, I can finally marry my husband!

As for you, boy, the two girls I killed earlier were quite pitiful. Originally, I planned to use one’s face and the other’s hair to complete my wedding, but now they are no longer needed. You can just stay here and keep them company; they will be very happy. They already started laughing when they met you in the bathroom. Hahaha!"

As the woman continued to laugh, the candlelight wavered erratically. Her head began to turn slowly, eventually revealing her face. She was not applying makeup at all. In her hands, she held a pair of scissors and a utility knife; she had already sliced away her entire facial skin, exposing the bloody internal structure. She was prepared, ready to don her so-called "new face."

Between the blood-slicked features illuminated by the candle, the woman’s nose bridge split along the midline, the fissure extending down to her mouth, with the corners of her lips cracking open as well. It formed an X, Y, Z-axis facial fracture, resembling a "flesh corner," the very key to maintaining this corner-like space.

As this bloody face revealed itself, Roddy prepared for battle. However—hoo—the woman did not pounce; instead, she opened her mouth and blew out the candle. The only light source in the room was extinguished, plunging everything into total darkness.

It was then that Roddy suddenly realized something: the monitor was holding an electric flashlight. Even if the candle went out, the bulb should have been bright enough to illuminate the master bedroom. Now, only the faint, scattered glow of red candles from the second floor provided any light.

Roddy turned his head toward his side, toward the monitor whose hand he was still holding. Yet, in the dim light, his eyes fell upon nothing but a paper effigy. The sensation of the hand he held transformed into paper, and spiders crawled out from within it, one biting down on the back of Roddy’s hand. Ignoring the bite, Roddy threw the paper effigy aside and lunged into the pitch-black master bedroom.

But the room was empty. The paper groom was gone, too.

"Damn it!"

Realizing what had happened, he spun around and rushed out of the master bedroom, heading toward the living room downstairs. Just then, a sound echoed from the bathroom—not the sound of dripping water, but footsteps.

The bloated paper effigy that Roddy had thrown, now stuffed with spiders, emerged from the bathroom. However, its head had been grafted with two young girls' heads. Their expressions were identical to when they had been floating—they were laughing miserably. Their hair grew frantically, lashing out to entangle Roddy, desperate to capture the handsome youth and be with him forever.

However, through the gaps in the black hair, one could see a face filled with hatred. Roddy’s eyes were wide, bloodshot, mirroring the extreme rage of a serial killer at the climax of a film.

Drip. A drop of blood fell to the floor. It was not the black hair that had caused an injury; Roddy had drawn his thumb across the blade, feeding his blood to the "zombie pituitary" living inside it, while shifting to a two-handed grip. The blood seeping out was immediately absorbed by the zombie skin and nerves on the blade’s surface, transported to the pituitary, triggering a change.

It felt like a "sacrifice": offering blood in exchange for corresponding power.

Creak, creak. Dark, sinister nerves leaped from the surface of the hilt, latching onto Roddy’s palms and forming a grotesque fusion. Finally, his entire hands and wrists were covered in zombie skin, forming a zombified structure. Even his fingernails grew longer, turning black, sturdy, and sharp. Both hands were transformed; the bite marks on the back of his hand were completely healed, the toxins within neutralized by the corpse poison.

In the half-year since obtaining this "corner-tier item," Roddy had practiced in secret every night. About two months after acquiring it, he had first heard the whisper from within the blade: *Give me blood.*

Now, six months later, he was intimately familiar with the use of this corner-tier artifact.

Swish! The entangling black hair was severed in an instant. With a burst of power from his muscular calves, Roddy charged toward the two-headed paper effigy. As he sprinted, both hands moved in unison.

*Slash and Claw.*

One strike severed the head of the girl on the right; one claw tore through the face of the girl on the left. The two mangled heads fell to the floor, and the paper body collapsed along with them. The stiff smiles on the girls' faces seemed to soften in that moment, turning into an expression of release, before they were finally swallowed by the swarm of spiders.