[…zzzz… Welco to today’s news flash… Yesterday, during the transfer of a detainee, [redacted]… Sanlia State Police, in cooperation with Tai State Police, launched [redacted], and the whereabouts of [redacted] are still unknown. Police in both regions remind residents to stay vigilant and report any suspicious individuals to the authorities as soon as possible…]
[…A family annihilation occurred last night in Minneapolis. The victims were the Hornet family living in [redacted]… Police revealed that the thod of the cri is highly similar to the [redacted] case in Heden State three years ago, raising suspicion of a serial killer, though the possibility of a copycat cri has not been ruled out…]
[…At 22:04 last night, a rare astronomical phenonon appeared in the sky: [redacted], attracting nurous spectators… Astronors said that “[redacted]” refers to the alignnt of the Sun, Earth, and [redacted], a rare event that occurs once every forty-five years…]
[…zzz… That concludes today’s news flash. Thank you for listening, and we’ll see you again tomorrow!]
At the dining table, Shelly gulped down the last hard slice of bread with cold water.
Not far away, on the sofa, Everly clutched her baby bottle and, while the old radio crackled with the morning news, drank every last drop of milk.
The bottle was too large, and the cold milk weighed on her stomach like a stone. After finishing it, she felt so full that she burped repeatedly and felt like vomiting.
But Everly endured it.
She only got milk twice a day—morning and evening. No matter how much she cried at other tis, Shelly wouldn’t feed her. If she didn’t finish her morning milk, by the afternoon she would be unbearably hungry. If she accidentally vomited, it would be even worse: Shelly wouldn’t clean it up. The milk on her body and clothes would gradually dry and harden over ti, sticking around her mouth, the folds of her neck, and the front of her clothes, forming chunks that reeked of sour, pungent milk.
That intoxicating sll… Ugh!
Everly didn’t want to be a stinky baby, so she had to push herself a little harder. When it beca really unbearable, she would listen to the radio to distract herself.
Shelly had the habit of listening to the news while eating, and Everly would eavesdrop. Over ti, she caught bits and pieces of the daily reports. She realized this world was far from peaceful: nine out of ten news items were filled with bloody, violent, negative events—indiscriminate killings, terrorists escaping prison, cults performing mass sacrifices… Seeing it this way, it wasn’t just Everly; all Aricans seed to be living in constant peril!
“Wail, wail …”
Lost in thought, a piercing siren cut through the calm of the early morning, growing louder as it approached.
Shelly rented a run-down apartnt in the old district. The facilities were outdated, the environnt dirty and chaotic—it was a slum, crowded with people who couldn’t afford the city’s high living costs. High population density kept the cri rate high: gang fights on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; street robberies on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays; occasionally even a serial killing. Police cars ca by almost daily, their sirens wailing “wail wail” one or two tis, but the residents of the old district were long since used to it.
However, today was a little different. The siren wove left and right through the narrow streets, finally stopping right below Shelly’s apartnt building.
Shelly was a typical artist—ears closed to the world outside. Even with the siren so close and the commotion downstairs, he felt no curiosity at all. After finishing breakfast, he went straight into his studio to continue working on his abstract art, unappreciated by anyone.
Everly, on the other hand, was very curious. She wanted to know what was happening and why it was so noisy below. But she was just a frail little baby, with weak limbs and a heavy head. She had only learned to roll over a few days ago; climbing up to the windowsill to see what was going on downstairs was still far beyond her abilities.
So she could only lie alone on the big bed, stretching out her fingers to touch her toes while straining her ears, trying to catch snippets of conversation drifting up from below.
It was a little frustrating. Shelly lived on the fourth floor, so the distance from downstairs was a bit far. Her English wasn’t very good, and many slang words and dialects went over her head. After listening for a while, all Everly could make out was that soone had died in the Mayflower Apartnts—a man and a woman, residents of apartnt 304, and by the ti they were found, they had already begun to rot and sll.
304…
Everly’s grip on her toes loosened by accident, and she sprawled flat across the bed.
W-what?!
The Mayflower Apartnts were the very building she and Shelly currently lived in. And apartnt 304? It was right below their unit… So that ant, while she and Shelly ate and slept obliviously, two corpses had been decaying unnoticed just a thin floor beneath them?
The thought made her feel a little queasy. But it was modern life, after all. Everyone lived in pigeon-cage-like apartnt blocks, and with so many people, which building hadn’t had a death? As long as it didn’t happen in the sa room, it wasn’t a big deal…
Thinking that, Everly sniffled, and her brows furrowed unconsciously.
She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but ever since she heard that soone had died downstairs, a faint, almost imperceptible stench seed to drift up to her nose. The sll was weak, but even so, it was enough to make a little baby recoil.
Could it be the sll rising from the floor below?
Everly glanced at the window. Since autumn began, Shelly had kept the glass windows closed to avoid spending money on doctor visits if she got sick. So the idea that the downstairs odor was drifting in through the window… well, that was probably overthinking it.
“Knock knock.”
While she was lost in these thoughts, a knocking ca from the door.
“Who is it? Didn’t we pay the electricity bill just last week? So annoying…” The knocking continued relentlessly, finally dragging Shelly out of his studio. He shuffled along in his slippers, grumbling and cursing, his temper flaring as he reached the door and twisted it open.
“P-police…?!” The next second, Shelly’s surprised gasp echoed from the living room doorway.
“Hello, this is the Dion City Police. We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the death in apartnt 304 downstairs. Is now a convenient ti?” a voice asked.
“Y-yes, please co in…”
The bedroom door leading to the living room hadn’t been closed. Everly lay on the bed, listening to bits and pieces of the conversation between Shelly and the police.
“Mr. Shelly, correct? How many people live in this apartnt?”
“Just , and my four-month-old daughter, Everly.”
“Do you know the couple from 304?”
“Yes, but not well. I only know they exist.”
“When was the last ti you saw them?”
“Let think… It must have been several months ago. After that, I was running back and forth between the hospital and the apartnt because my wife had a car accident and gave birth prematurely, so I didn’t encounter them again.”
“Okay. Next question: the last ti you saw this couple, did you notice anything unusual?”
“Not really, but…” Shelly hesitated for the first ti, unusually tentative.
“But?”
“Uh… I probably shouldn’t speak ill of the deceased, but I have to say, I always had a pretty bad impression of those two. They weren’t very clean, and every ti I passed them on the street, I’d catch a strange, horrible sll. It’s hard to describe… like… uh, like fish left in a powerless fridge for three days in the middle of sumr. It was absolutely disgusting!”
“A bad sll… alright, understood. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Shelly. If necessary, we may contact you again later…” The sounds of shuffling ca from the living room—judging by the noise, the police were packing up to leave.
“Um… may I ask sothing?” Shelly called after them.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Would it be possible for you to tell the exact cause of death for the two people downstairs? You see, it’s just and my daughter living here. If there’s so terrifying killer wandering around nearby, I’m genuinely worried about our safety.”
To emphasize his point, Shelly walked a few steps into the bedroom and held Everly—the little baby who had been eagerly listening in—up to the police officer.
“Well…” The officer glanced at the infant in the man’s arms, and for the first ti, a flicker of hesitation crossed his normally stern face.
“Wah…” Shelly pinched Everly’s little bottom from below, and Everly puffed her cheeks, muttering incomprehensible baby scolds. Perhaps the baby’s innocent babble softened the officer’s resolve. He sighed, finally relenting: “Alright… this isn’t really a secret anyway. By the ti we arrived, quite a few people were already at the scene. I imagine many details have already spread…”
With that, the officer lowered his voice and began sharing the general situation downstairs with Shelly.
Strangely enough, when the couple downstairs was found, their bodies were already in an advanced state of decay. Given the wooden structure of the Mayflower Apartnts, the stench should have long since filled the hallway. Yet, no one noticed anything unusual—until the landlord ca to collect the rent, couldn’t find anyone, and broke in. Only then did the sll erupt fully with the discovery of the corpses.
“…There were no signs of a struggle. The fatal wounds were stab wounds to the abdon, from bottom to top, deep to shallow. Certain ritual items were placed inside the wounds, and an altar had been arranged on the floor around the bodies. Based on all this, the preliminary judgnt by the forensic and cri scene investigators is that an accident occurred during so kind of self-sacrifice ritual.”
Shelly’s face twisted in disgust. “A self-sacrifice ritual? Th-that… these people are insane…”
“Shh—Because of your particular situation, I’m sharing so of the case details with you. Please don’t talk about this outside.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll keep my mouth shut, I won’t say anything. Thank you… thank you.”
Seeing that the officer didn’t intend to say more and was preparing to leave, Shelly quickly set Everly down on the sofa and followed the police officer to the door. To show his gratitude, he even shook the officer’s hand several tis with exaggerated enthusiasm.
Once the door closed, Shelly spun around, eyes wide, hand covering his mouth, pacing back and forth while muttering: “A cult sacrifice… excellent material for painting. If only I could see the scene… uh, ugh, it stinks! Didn’t this cop wash his hands after touching the corpses? How can it sll this bad!”
One mont he was lost in the artistic inspiration sparked by the bizarre cri, and the next, he gagged, spun around, and ran to the kitchen sink, turning on the tap and frantically washing his hands.
The water in the sink gushed endlessly as Shelly washed his hands. After rinsing, he pumped so soap and carefully rubbed his palms under the running water. He then brought his hands to his nose and sniffed—“Ugh, gag!”
He lowered his head and began scrubbing his hands frantically again.
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