That Jing Ci woke in his cell to the best of moods – to the point of humming – had the guard run away in fright and send a notice to his superiors.
It took two hours for a slender, tall man of middle-age to appear. Casually walking inside, he took place on the chair inside Jing Ci’s room.
“Good morning”, he greeted calmly while placing a number of documents on the table and taking out an oldschool pen.
Jing Ci looked over at him. “Good morning, Prof.”
Ming Liang was a well-known person in certain circles. Psychology as his greatest interest, he wrote papers as others would write short stories.
His main charm, however, was that he simply didn’t appear like a psychologist. He hardly ever touched upon the subject when not asked and generally looked like a peaceful guy who might like art.
Jing Ci did not dislike him and generally accepted his presence. The professor was easy-going and also the person who was responsible for him still living such a carefree life. All of it was in exchange for only a conversation once in a while.
He had some connection to whoever had taken him off the death row, that much he knew, but nothing more.
“You’re in a good mood today”, Ming Liang stated. “Want to tell me why?”
“I met an interesting person”, Jing Ci freely admitted, scratching a fingernail over the scars on his arm. “I’d like to meet them again.”
The professor paused in his writing. This was the first time Jing Ci had ever mentioned wanting to see something again. The words “would like to” and “again” had never left his mouth in this combination, not even for meals – the only exception were the dreams.
He never asked for things again. Once was always enough for him.
“You were pulled into the nightmare again”, Ming Liang logically concluded. “Anything noteworthy about that?”
“If you kill people in there, they don’t immediately vanish. It’s pretty realistic except for the missing colours. Sensation, sound, the time needed for their hearts to stop and all that is exactly like in this world.”
Disconcerting detail to be told about. Ming Liang pulled an empty sheet over and sighed. “Descriptions? I want to check if they woke up.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Alcu Jl vfrmglyfv jr tf kbeiv vfrmglyf jc lafw.
“Vb sbe ifoa bcf bo atfw jilnf, wwt?”, atf qgbofrrbg jrxfv lc j mbcnfgrjalbcji abcf jcv klatbea ibbxlcu eq.
“Ktfs kfgf vfjv jigfjvs, jcskjs.”
…Ktf bivfg wjc xcfk atja tf kbeiv cba ufa jc fzqijcjalbc obg atja fnfc lo tf jrxfv, rb tf vlvc’a.
Jing Ci remembered that River-guy’s eyes. They had been bleak and empty but towards the end, when he was talking about the puzzle that he believed the nightmares to be, he bloomed like a magnificent flower.
His voice was very nice to listen to when he talked like that.
To tell the truth, Jing Ci felt that the man was a lot like him. Not part of the crowd but a bystander, someone who couldn’t quite mix into the masses. Someone too different to be acknowledged by people.
He had watched Jing Ci murder someone as if he was watching a movie. He wasn’t part of the reality that everyone else was a part of.
So, standing outside of the globe that surrounded those people, Jing Ci wondered if he would find a wall between him and that man or if the both of them were outside together. He would like it if that was the case.
Although it was true that for the main time, that man was dead… He was also much more alive once his flip had been switched back to ‘On’.
“Describe them as well.”
A large line drawn over the paper and a note below that, then a small arrow to indicate that the closer info was to be placed there.
Jing Ci shut his mouth and rolled around on his bed to show his back to the professor.
The old man’s face twitched. It looked like Jing Ci was not willing to elaborate further on that person, which was a shame. He was curious to know what kind of person would catch this insane youth’s interest.
He knew from Jing Ci’s doctor that the young man’s brain had some “wirings” that weren’t quite correct and according to what he learned about him these past years, Jing Ci had been like this from the start. There was only a moment where he had decided to switch from tolerating the noise around him to wanting to turn it off – the Christmas where he killed his family.
Even now, Jing Ci refused to give a full account of what happened and only repeated how noisy it had been. He still felt that there must have been something else that triggered this violent reaction.
“Jing Ci, if this person has caught your interest, I don’t mind bringing them over”, the professor calmly said while tapping his pen onto the paper. The wealthy could bear to be overbearing. “Do you not want that?”
“No”, the figure on the bed rejected leisurely.
“So you won’t see them again?”
“I’m sure I will. In those nightmares.”
The professor rubbed his head. “You know that people have a chance of dying every time. Besides, it’s not like people will be called there for certain. What if it is the only time they appeared there?”
No answer again.
The professor, having somewhat expected this, tapped his pen against the table. “Is there anything you want today?”
Jing Ci contemplated for a while. “A non-toxic marker that is suitable for being applied to skin and string.”
Ming Liang’s eye twitched. He had an idea as to what Jing Ci was going to do with those but he ordered the things anyway. It only took a couple of minutes for them to arrive.
Pleased, Jing Ci placed one of his legs on the other and pulled his pants out of the way.
His legs were shaved, showing nothing but soft skin. The youth would have even got a treatment to permanently get rid of the hair if possible, but that needed a professional to be done and the prison certainly wouldn’t allow that.
Ming Liang watched the marker move over Jing Ci’s calf and draw a pattern of delicate lines. It was a stream-lined pattern that wrapped around the lines of his muscles.
Satisfied with the image, Jing Ci got to work and the professor watched quietly.
Where the needle dipped under skin, a single drop of blood was left behind.
He had to stop every few seconds to wipe away the blood. Every stitch followed the lines of the pattern evenly, creating a perfect seam… If not for the fact that he pulled it tight on purpose, stretching his skin.
“Why do you do that?”, Ming Liang tried asking. Sometimes he would get an answer to things he wanted to know, sometimes not. Seeing as Jing Ci was in a good mood, he gave it a try.
He was lucky – Jing Ci spoke distractedly. “Why not? I’d like to get another tattoo, but I can’t.”
The only tattoo he had was between his shoulder blades. It was a tribal-style tattoo, a diamond-shaped image. The colour was too deep inside his skin for it to be considered the work of a legal tattoo artist.
A creepy grin stretched over his face. “Aah, that said, cut marks simply don’t look good.”
Ming Liang leaned back in his chair.
Jing Ci had self-destructive tendencies, but he refused to allow himself to die. It seemed he was yearning for destruction but did not want to abandon his conscious self and did not like things that weren’t pleasing to his eye.
He enjoyed pain as a means of escape, similar to people who cut their wrists, but without the wish to vanish.
The man might be lonely, but he was unwilling to give up.
Author’s Note
Rather than intending to leave the string inside his skin like an embroidery, the goal is to create scars in the same pattern. That’s why he’s pulling the string so tight.
Thanks to UnironicallyHere for the adorable fanart of my cards <3 Made me remember that I should do some more. At least there’s two that would make sense for sure.
Fanart of river is very cute👌😍
Thank you so much for adding my drawings! My insta is hijinx.x if anyone is curious? :p
The fanart are sooo cuuute 😭😭
Cant waaaiit for the next chapter😩
Aahh totally did not almost miss the bus reading this😂😂😂
Thank you for the chapter :3