116 was dark. Fiona Bennett slowly reached out her hand, pressed it against the door, and pushed.

She couldn’t budge it. She tried turning the doorknob—it was locked.

Meeting in a place that doesn’t exist—what a boring prank. But wait, or… is it that place?

The smell of formalin was already very strong.

Actually, she could keep going. Right next to the dissection building, there was a single-story house, connected to it by a passageway.

Fiona Bennett kept walking forward, turned left at the end of the corridor, where there was a four-step staircase going down. Further ahead, after a short, even narrower, windowless passage, she entered that single-story house.

This house had only one room. Outside the room was a lobby barely wider than the corridor, with the door to the outside left ajar. Fiona Bennett knew about this place, but she had never been here before.

The entrance to the room was tightly shut—two steel doors set into the grayish-white wall. Fiona Bennett looked up at the sign above the door. Yes, Room 117.

But in fact, no one called it that. It had another name—the corpse pool. The bodies used in anatomy class were dragged out from here.

Fiona Bennett felt dazed, as if her brain had been soaked in formalin, completely unable to think. She didn’t know what was pushing her forward, but she walked up to the steel doors and reached out to push them.

The doors didn’t budge at all. Of course not—the corpse pool was always kept locked.

Fiona Bennett let out a sigh of relief. She thought she could probably leave now. But then she saw the red characters on the door—“Pull.”

She grabbed the doorknob.

The doorknob was damp and clammy. Fiona Bennett jumped in fright and pulled her hand back. Her palm was soaked, coated in a layer of colorless liquid. She brought it to her nose and sniffed—there seemed to be no smell, maybe it was masked by the formalin. Then she realized her other hand was wet too—she’d been sweating that much.

The second time she grabbed the doorknob, Fiona Bennett tried pulling. She didn’t use much force, but the door moved. Maybe it wasn’t really steel, just wood with a metal covering, so it wasn’t that heavy.

Inside was an even harsher white light—the corpse pool’s lights were all on!

Fiona Bennett felt as if she’d been struck on the head, her upper body reeling backward, nearly fainting, then she started coughing. Compared to the formalin smell outside, the stench that rushed out from inside was almost solid.

Her coughing echoed thunderously. Fiona Bennett coughed herself into a bit of courage, pulled the door open, and walked in.

Fiona Bennett squinted, covering her nose with her hand and breathing through her mouth, but it still stung. Her breathing was loud, almost gasping, the “huh huh” sound clear in this space filled with the stench of death and decay. Only her own breathing could be heard—no one else’s.

Rows of hundreds of fluorescent tubes above cast a silent light, illuminating the corpse pool, which was as tall as a person. It looked like a swimming pool built on flat ground, though smaller than a standard pool, and instead of water, it was filled with formalin. The bodies floated in the formalin—whether they had once been fastidious ladies or lifelong farmers, now they all floated naked in the pool, and even if someone’s toe touched another’s eyeball, none of them could protest anymore.

Actually, Fiona Bennett couldn’t see what was inside the pool—the pool’s edge was higher than her eyes. There was an iron ladder to climb up, but it was rusted and badly corroded.

The corpse pool was the only “furnishing” in this big room. There was about three meters of space between the pool’s edge and the wall, forming a square corridor around the pool. This corridor was clearly wider than the one outside, but standing here, the oppressive feeling of the corpse pool was constant, like a tomb.

“Is anyone there?” Fiona Bennett’s voice was weak, the words swallowed halfway, barely louder than her breathing. She took a breath and asked again, this time much louder, startling herself.

No one answered. Maybe the person hadn’t arrived yet, or maybe they never would.

Fiona Bennett hesitated at the door for a while, then walked along the left side of the corridor. She had to make a full circle to feel at ease; otherwise, she couldn’t help but imagine someone hiding in a corner she couldn’t see.

The outer wall of the corpse pool was bare cement, dark gray-black. Fiona Bennett walked close to the wall, trying to stay as far from the pool as possible. Every time she reached a corner, she tensed up, and only relaxed when she saw the empty space ahead.

After the third right angle, there was still no one. One more turn and she’d be back at the main door. Just then, she heard a sound.

It was hard to say what kind of sound it was—like someone else’s breathing, or the soft, careful steps of someone trying not to be heard. Once, twice, again—it came from somewhere.

In this room, sounds echoed and swirled, so Fiona Bennett couldn’t tell if it was coming from ahead or behind. She quickly glanced back—nothing. Maybe it was in front.

She wanted to ask “Who is it?” but didn’t dare speak. She was terrified, yet couldn’t feel her own heartbeat—her chest felt hollow, as if her heart had been dug out. Step by step, she edged forward, reached the corridor’s corner, and without stopping, stepped around it.

Suddenly, her heart pounded violently, a chaotic drumbeat overwhelming her. It didn’t sound like a heartbeat—more like her heart was pumping a torrent of blood, rushing past her ears like a great river.

Fiona Bennett leaned against the wall, barely managing not to collapse. After a long time—though maybe it was only a few seconds—she calmed down. In front of her, under the white light, was an empty corridor. The sound was gone.

Maybe it was just her imagination, she thought.

When she walked back to the main door, the sound came again.

Fiona Bennett almost pushed the door open to escape.

“Who—who’s there?” she finally shouted.

When the echo faded, the sound disappeared too.

In the corner by the main door, a few bamboo poles with iron hooks on one end were propped up—she didn’t know what they were for. Fiona Bennett picked one up, holding it like a spear, and walked forward. At the corner, she stuck the tip out first, waving it around, then slowly turned her body around. Still, the corridor was empty. But the sound came again. This time, Fiona Bennett could hear it more clearly—it was footsteps.

It was as if someone was playing hide-and-seek with her in the square corridor—when Fiona Bennett walked to one side, they hid on the other.

Fiona Bennett panted heavily, then, steeling herself, rushed forward. The faint, rapid sounds kept surfacing amid her heavy footsteps, but after circling around, she found only an empty corridor.

Fiona Bennett couldn’t hold the bamboo pole steady, dragging one end along the ground. She leaned on the corpse pool to catch her breath, saw the iron ladder nearby, and decided to climb up.

Standing higher, there would be fewer blind spots.

Once she climbed up, she saw the true face of the corpse pool. Most of the pool was covered with rectangular floating boards, to prevent the formalin from evaporating too quickly. Through the gaps, she could see some limbs. A small area near the ladder was uncovered, with four brown corpses floating there, all face down, tied with ropes. Now Fiona Bennett understood the purpose of the bamboo pole—it was for hooking the bodies.

Fiona Bennett didn’t linger on these corpses. She walked along the edge of the pool. Now, most of the corridor was in her line of sight—if the person making the noise wasn’t unusually short, she should be able to see them… At this thought, Fiona Bennett suddenly wondered: could the person with such light footsteps be a child?

And children do love to play hide-and-seek.

She shivered, a chill running from her neck to her ankles, nearly making her fall into the pool. What kind of child would play hide-and-seek by a corpse pool?

She didn’t dare think further, gripping the bamboo pole and moving forward. Step by step by step by step, the hidden corners of the corridor slowly unfolded beneath her gaze.

No one.

There was only her in the whole building.

One living person.

There was a sound of water. Like a fish gently flicking its tail on the surface. How could there be fish in formalin? Fiona Bennett turned to look. In the center of the pool, there was a small area not covered by the boards.

When she first climbed up, she remembered glancing over—was there an open patch of water in the center?

There was only one body there, also face down, tied with rope, long hair—it looked like a woman. Unlike the other bodies used for dissection, this one seemed far too young.

And on the corpse’s back, there was a rectangular white object—was it paper?

Was there something written on it?

Fiona Bennett walked to the closest spot to the body. She reached out with the bamboo pole, trying to hook the corpse over.

It was difficult. She tried several times—she clearly caught the rope, but it slipped off again. Almost, just a little more, almost, still just a little more. Suddenly, she realized—the body was moving. When the hook caught the rope, the body would shift, so the hook slipped off.

Her body was already cold, with no trace of warmth, her heartbeat gone. She opened her mouth to scream, but couldn’t hear her own voice—or maybe some force was blocking her mouth, and she hadn’t made a sound at all.