Puzzle Madness

Chapter 75 Pale
Doudou would give this evaluation of the corridor and office at this moment:

The atmosphere was bad, the energy was bad.

In the huge messy scene, there were only him and the skeleton, who was not sure whether it could be considered a "human"; even after the other party died, he was still crying - holding a pile of small animal corpses and crying.

Originally, the radio on the wall could say some strange words that were incomprehensible to lighten the atmosphere a little, but now it was just pretending to be mute.

All this reminded Doudou of the last free terminal in the reading room of the city library - at that time he had to compete with the old man who loved reading newspapers, the lawyer who was looking up information, the college student doing research, and the crying elementary school student; it was simply a death struggle of desire, ethics and social relations.

In the end, after a long fight, no one got it because the terminal was broken:

"Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh--"

Thinking of this, Doudou shuddered all over and couldn't help making strange noises. He felt a chill running down his back:

Awkward. Yes, that’s the word!

Doudou quickly opened his palms and tapped his crown to dispel the tingling sensation; then he covered his mouth with his fists and coughed forcefully twice:

"Ahem, ahem. Um. Hello? Can you please come quickly? I'm still waiting here."

No answer came, the skull still wept—
But there were wisps of thin white mist floating out from the dark corridor that was tangled with wires:
The bones, shattered into dust by Doudou, drifted into a cloud, defying gravity. They dragged the shattered spine and leg bones with them, floating in mid-air. They passed Doudou and floated to the side of the skeleton, connecting the broken sternum and ribs.

The bone powder gradually darkened from a translucent white mist until it transformed back into a complete skeleton, like a photo that had been color-adjusted.
In a few breaths, the skeleton became "intact" again; just like before Doudou raised his fist to hit it, except that the long skirt was missing.

But it seemed unaware and continued to lie among the corpses and cry; the sound of its skeleton trembling became louder.

Doudou tilted his head, his anxiety over the monster's transformation easing slightly. He covered his mouth and murmured in praise:

"Oh! It turns out it can repair itself. I thought I broke it."

This was the first time he had seen such a scene; it was as if someone had turned back time and put every bone fragment back together perfectly.

Doudou wanted to continue making comments quietly, but quickly shut his mouth; because the strange phenomenon continued:

Crunch, crunch. The wheels of the flatbed cart slid forward—
The pile of pet corpses suddenly raised their heads.

They were originally stacked high like Mayan pyramids; now, even the slightest tremor causes the cart to move forward—
The pet corpses all moved in unison, from top to bottom, following an order; one by one they jumped down and came to the side of the skeleton.

They still had bloody paste all over their fur, and their eyes were dead, with their pupils motionless.

There were no subtle animal-like movements—swinging, licking, sniffing, breathing—but the body was pressed against the skeleton, rubbing against it, as if being coquettish or comforting.

then--
Puff, puff, puff.

Faint explosions were heard.

One tiny corpse after another squeezed into the skeleton's frame until it burst under the pressure of the later ones, and the internal organs and blood splattered everywhere; but these sticky or slippery flesh and blood seemed to be wrapped in some kind of transparent frame and would not fall to the ground.

They began to "stick" into the cracks in the skeleton's skeleton, like applying cement between bricks.

The boundaries of each animal carcass are becoming blurred, becoming the contents used to fill the skeleton -
Transformed into flesh and blood in a skeleton's body.

[Oh, it’s changing. It’s starting to change! It’s starting to change!]

Although it was different from what Doudou had thought - he had thought that these dead pets would suddenly rise up, turning into a ferocious army of corpses and attacking him; this crying skeleton had some druid-like temperament.

The result was a seemingly sticky mess, but that was fine: Doudou considered himself quite tolerant; any monster setting was acceptable. This little oddity wasn't enough to surprise him.

But anticipation was inevitable - Doudou quickly held his breath and moved closer cautiously.

The skeleton is no longer a bare skeleton: the corpses of the pets are wriggling and changing, becoming flesh growing on it.

The protruding parts were flattened and the hair was buried in the flesh; in the blink of an eye, the pet corpses were no longer recognizable as "corpses"; they had turned into shriveled muscles and skin.

The skeleton is becoming human again--
In other words, becoming like a [less highly decomposed corpse].

The long skirt that had been shattered to pieces by Doudou's punch did not recover; instead, the hollow body was covered with dry flesh, like a piece of gnarled jerky - or a mummy on display in a museum.

Above his narrow shoulders, his slender neck bulged, as if injected with flesh and blood in that instant: no longer a deep, dark brown, but a waxy, dull color. Even the area encircled by the tangled wires remained the same. This change continued upwards, until it covered his entire face—
The scalp turns blue, and then the hair bulges out of the follicles and stretches until it falls to the shoulders.

Now, the corpse's face could be seen clearly. Although the heart was no longer pumping fresh blood, and gravity had prevented the blood from flowing beneath the skin, within the horrifying paleness of the skin, it was finally possible to make out the face of a young woman.

Her face was thin, with deep-set eyes, a high nose, and lips as thin as a knife blade; her cheeks were waxy white like a plaster mold. Her hair was light chestnut, with scattered ends that curled slightly.

then--
The corpse opened its eyes: white eyes.

The fluid under the cornea stopped flowing a long time ago; the iris and pupil have become completely blurred and white, and the white and black of the eyes are indistinguishable, becoming a vague paste.

Or, more like a pale swamp:

The white eyes of the dead seemed to reflect nothing, yet seemed to be looking at everything visible.

The colorful rope made of electric wires was still embedded in the flesh of the neck, like a strange necklace.

The wires tightened gently, leaving her hanging there in a daze; she didn't move, but she also didn't shed any more tears.
-
"call--"

Doudou breathed a sigh of relief: this guy had finally transformed; he no longer had to stand nervously by the side, feeling the embarrassment of disturbing someone else's sad and lonely time.

But the air was filled with turbidity and an invisible weight—it weighed heavily on people's hearts, making Doudou unhappy:

Otherwise, he would definitely jump three feet high.

Just looking at the visual effects, this scene of bones turning into fresh corpses is one of the funniest things I've seen recently:
"Oh, so you should call it the [Witch in the Building]? I thought you were talking about the electric cord."

I finally had someone I could contact using the code name I heard on the radio earlier.

The [Witch in the Building] was still standing there in a daze, with no movement in her chest. It was unclear whether she was unwilling to answer Dou Dou's question or if she hadn't heard it at all.

Doudou didn't take it seriously:

There are all kinds of people in the world, some are talkative, and some are taciturn. This guy, who had just transformed from a rattling skeleton into a "fresh" corpse, seemed to be less talkative.

But Doudou was still a little depressed: if he had known there would be such fun things, he should have brought his good friends here tonight to share the scene in front of him.

At least get a camera or DV to record these things - when you go back, you will have nothing to prove and she might laugh at you; that will affect our friendship.

It’s strange to say: Doudou usually always thinks on the bright side of things, but this is the first time that he feels so depressed now.

Doudou tiptoed and walked cautiously to the witch in the building——
She didn't move, and the wires on her neck that were originally turning and rubbing stopped.

Doudou raised his five fingers and waved them in front of her face; his tone was a little awkward:
"Is the transformation over? Didn't it bother you? Then I'll continue?"

The witch in the building remained silent, without even a sway.

Doudou looked around furtively, like a thief. Then he suddenly stretched out his arms until they were bent straight back behind his body, his protruding shoulder blades almost touching his middle deltoid muscle.
Buzz.
A faint sound came from Doudou's muscle bundles, as if there was a whole choir with laryngitis hiding there, practicing throat singing in a low voice.

The next moment, Doudou's palms swung 180 degrees and returned to the front of his body.

It hit the head of the [Witch in the Building] that was hanging in the air by electric wires.

Boom--ping!
It was a sound that surged directly into the eardrum and pounded into the brain—more like standing close to a large forging machine. Originally, the center of a person's palm had some curved, hollow areas that produced an explosive sound when struck.

The head of the [Witch in the Building] disappeared in Doudou's palm, and a storm arose:
Bang, boom!

With Doudou's hands as the center, the exploding airflow swept in all directions; all the window panes and glass on this floor were blown into powder - the plaster ceiling bulged upwards in an instant, then shattered, nailing into the concrete skeleton of the entire building.

The corridor, which was originally a bit narrow, widened in an instant: the paint was peeled off the load-bearing columns, and the galvanized steel, concrete blocks and clay bricks that partitioned the small offices collapsed, then turned into shrapnel from artillery shells and bombarded farther away.

The corridor was no longer a corridor; in the blink of an eye it turned into a two-hundred-square-meter open space.

The camera in the corner didn't have time to record this scene -
It had been blown away to who knows where in this typhoon that started indoors.

(End of this chapter)