1

The high school I attended built a new toilet, a two-story structure covered with white tiles, which is extremely elegant, and it is said that it cost 200,000 yuan, which is the best toilet among public schools in the city. Everyone chose the new toilet, and gradually, the old toilet was abandoned.

I've been there a few times, and although I haven't seen anyone, new cigarette butts often appear in the toilet cubicles, probably because some students secretly go there to smoke.

After school that day, my table mate and I talked about the old toilet.

"Takakawa, do you remember the old toilet?" He said.

"Well, isn't it deserted? When will it be dismantled? "That being said, I don't really want it to be torn down so quickly. At some point, the remote location and abandoned state of the old toilet brought a lot of convenience. I guess those students who use the old toilets all the time must have a family in mind.

Although it exudes an unpleasant smell due to the lack of cleanup.

On the other hand, it is located behind the school building, in an overgrown wasteland. It takes ten minutes to get there from the upstairs classroom. Not far from the toilets there are also three stone table tennis tables, which used to be very prosperous for a while, but are now covered with moss.

"I haven't heard of demolition, after all, there are still people who go there often." Said at the same table.

"I go sometimes."

"Really?" The tablemate looked stunned, "Isn't the new toilet bad?" ”

"Be nostalgic." I picked up a random reason.

"I see. But I've heard that there have been a few disappearances there, so you have to be careful. ”

This time it was my turn to be surprised.

"Missing?"

"That's right, missing, someone went in and never came out again." The expression of interest on the face of the tablemate is as if he is talking about school weirdness, and there is no tension at all.

"How do you know the way?"

"It's a rumor circulating in private, but isn't there such a saying, there is no wind and no waves."

"This rumor is not credible." I casually responded: "If there was a case, the school would not be so calm, and the police wouldn't have come?" ”

"I've been here." The god at the same table mysteriously came over: "There is a student in the third grade who has been missing for a few days, and the parents have called the police, but the search is on Sunday, and the school has also blocked the news, so many people don't know what to do." ”

"So, did you find it?" As soon as I said this blandly, my table mate sighed.

"Found it, but somewhere else."

The tone in which he spoke was a little unsightly, frustrating, and unwilling, as if he wished that the missing senior student would never be found again. In a word, he took it as fun, but then again, now that he found it, it wasn't a big deal.

In recent years, it is not uncommon for students to do unthinkable things because of environmental pressures, and suicide is more serious than that of skipping their families.

"That's good, is he going to school again?"

"Ah, well, but when someone asked him where he was when he disappeared, he replied that he didn't know what to do." The same table said seriously: "It seems that I have amnesia, I can't remember where I went or what I did." ”

Actually, I'm not surprised by this result, and if I were to be a homemaker, I wouldn't have confessed what I had done, because it would be humiliating. Of course, I don't just play missing, I do well in my studies, and I think I'm mentally better than most people.

Although newspapers and news reports on such incidents during this period, they are still very few in proportion to the total number of students in the country. It's just that these few are gathered, and it's a little shocking.

Anyway, those media are not looking for trouble, they just eat this mouthful, and they have to exaggerate everything.

But the table came to a surprising conclusion.

"I think something unthinkable must have happened to that student, so he was brainwashed."

It's really whimsical, I can only sigh like this, the other party has a special penchant for mysterious events, no matter how ordinary things are, it becomes weird in his mouth, but none of them are true.

I didn't want to hit him, so I pulled away from the topic.

My table mates were immersed in their own fantasies, and they didn't care at all about my obvious coping.

After leaving the classroom, I went to the old toilet again.

As always, there was no one in the toilet, and no one else was seen on the road.

Several new cigarette butts were found in the compartment covered in yellow urine spots and moss.

I nodded, pulled a cigarette out of my bag, and lit it with a lighter.

For the most part, good students are non-smokers, but although my grades are at the top and I am known as a good seedling of a major university, I do things that are jaw-dropping to my teachers in private.

For example, smoking.

The first time I smoked was when I was ten years old, I went to play with my classmates, and I saw my classmate's father's self-dried tobacco and a stack of cigarette papers on the balcony. So at the instigation of curiosity, he and his classmates secretly rolled one and pumped it up.

The classmate didn't dare to suck it into his lungs at all, but spit it out after turning it in his mouth, and complained that it was all bitter.

I took a deep breath and was worried at first that I would choke, but surprisingly, my body adapted to it.

After that, I would buy a pack of Camel cigarettes from time to time. This brand is very expensive, and the supply is very small, and you have to save up your pocket money every month to buy a pack. Although I have less pocket money that I can use elsewhere because of smoking, I still like this brand of cigarettes.

After all, I don't particularly like smoking, but once my body gets used to the bitter taste and flavor of tobacco burning, it can be a test of willpower to quit completely.

It's not that I lack self-control. Although there are many examples of medical claims that smoking is harmful to health, more people die without smoking than those who smoke and live past the age of 60. My goal is to live past the age of 60, so quitting smoking has become a dispensable thing.

Every time I come to the old toilet to smoke, I wonder if I will meet smokers.

In this school, I am probably the only good student who smokes, and the others are all poor students in the teacher's mouth. Of course, they can't all be gangsters in the future, and it's very stupid to evaluate one's future when they are students.

I also know a few of these people, except for their poor test scores and their speech and dress, they are no different from ordinary people in other places. ,

I only have an intersection with them about smoking, and although we can talk, the friendship is faint.

They knew I smoked, but they never poked the teacher.

I thought I'd run into them in the old toilet, but I never did. Once it was a coincidence, but every time it happened, I couldn't help but wonder, is there some decisive factor? Maybe they don't want to touch me either.

Thinking so wildly, a cigarette was almost finished, and footsteps were heard at the entrance of the toilet.

Someone walked in.

I don't know what it is, but I suddenly got a little nervous, probably because it was the first time I met someone else.

I was hesitant about whether to go out or not, and maybe the other party didn't want to meet other people, so I felt embarrassed if I didn't meet each other.

Smoking isn't a big bad thing, but students smoke secretly.

In the end, I still didn't get out.

The man went into the innermost compartment of the toilet, and I listened for a while, and the toilet was silent again.

I didn't want to stay any longer, so I pushed open the door to the cubicle.

I was about to get out of the toilet when a scream came from the innermost compartment of the toilet.

I was startled and turned to look, but it was quiet again.

I waited for a while, but there was no movement.

I couldn't tell what I was thinking, but I had a mixed emotion, worry, or curiosity, and I was driven by that emotion, and I walked over there.

As I walked, I remembered the topic of disappearance at the same table.

I didn't know exactly which compartment the man was in, but I guessed that he stopped at one place, paused, and asked, "Hey, you're okay, are you?" ”

No one answered.

"I just heard your scream, I'll leave if it's okay."

Or silence.

In that case, I was about to pull my feet away, when suddenly a feeling that something was wrong tugged at my body.

I turned around again, searching for a fleeting light.

yes, wasn't that guy here to smoke? I didn't smell the smoke.

Although the old toilet was dirty and smelly, it should be able to smell smoke through the door when it is close.

If you go to the toilet in a serious way, you don't have to be silent about the kind inquiry.

Of course, it is also possible for the other party to do this, maybe he is not in this compartment, maybe he stepped on the poop, so he doesn't want to be seen by others.

Despite all the reasons, I kicked open the door to the cubicle.

There was no one in there.

I don't care, it's a dismount, a signal, if you're in there, just speak up, or I'm not going to let it go.

No response.

Not to be outdone, I kicked open the doors of the other cubicles.

Strange things happen, and the people who should have existed disappear.

There wasn't a single figure in the toilet except me.

But I had heard someone walk in and into the inner compartment.

The ventilation window of the toilet has long been broken, rusty, and no one can climb out of it, so then again, why climb through the window of the toilet? There was nothing but a wall in the back.

This strange incident made the words of my table mates echo in my mind again.

"I heard that some students disappeared in the old toilets."

2

The fact that a large living person disappeared into the toilet was more surprised than frightened. I'm not deaf and blind, someone did come in, so how did he disappear? There is only one exit.

It dawned on me that this was almost a classic case of a closed room.

Reasoning and solving, this is a game that all those who like logic will be addicted to.

People who are logical and prudent are usually gifted in mathematics. To put it bluntly, I did well in math and enjoyed the math Olympiad and ontological reasoning.

It's a great place for me to do what I do best.

I began to search the toilet cubicles, imprinting their orientation in my mind, studying the marks on the concrete floor and walls, as Sherlock Holmes and Doberman from "The Mauger Street Murders" did. Then in the penultimate compartment, someone was found writing in an inconspicuous corner with cigarette ash:

"Don't put your hand in the dog's mouth."

The handwriting is very sloppy, and for some time, most of it has been intermittently obscured by moss, and it is impossible to see it without deliberately looking for it.

I crouched down in the toilet position and lit a cigarette.

The missing guy was wearing sneakers with spiked soles and grass clippings, most likely students who had just finished playing football.

Screams before disappearance.

Judging by the sound, it should not be a disgusting thing, but a really surprising thing.

Thinking of this, my thoughts paused.

I suddenly realized that people scream, and in addition to being surprised, there is also a situation where they are caught off guard.

Again, I thought back to the cry, and yes, I was caught off guard.

I smoked a cigarette and lowered my head, and right where I was squatting, the shoe prints disappeared, but left a few faint mud marks.

He fell.

In this direction, I stood up with a cigarette in my mouth and tried to simulate the way he walked in, the direction of his fall, and the posture of his fall.

His feet slipped forward and he fell backwards, so that the person who fell might want to grab something in front of him or hold himself back.

Is his gaze forward, downward, or upward?

I flicked off the soot and looked up, and above my head, in the shadows covered in cobwebs and dust, there seemed to be a strange pattern.

Ah, that's what I've been ignoring.

I thought, trying to keep my eyes open to see what it was.

Part of the pattern resembles eyes, and there are three pairs from top to bottom.

The image of that time comes to my mind.

The man hurried in and slipped to hold on to something, but he fell on all fours, and his lying body allowed him to see the three pairs of strange eye patterns.

And then screamed?

No, there is still a necessary key missing.

His hands.

Where did you go when you fell?

Three pairs of eyes?

My arms naturally lifted up and pointed to the pattern of the three pairs of eyes.

Suddenly, a sentence flashed in my mind:

"Don't put your hand in the dog's mouth."

The strange pattern above my head suddenly lit up with a red light, and the red light flowed along like blood, and the complete pattern broke through the blockade of cobwebs, dust, moss, and shadows, and was clearly reflected in my eyes. ,

That's a wolf, or a dog, but a real wolfdog doesn't have three pairs of eyes.

The strange vicious dog bit the cross, and three pairs of bloodshot eyes glared at me fiercely.

It seemed to be human, its cracked lips and sharp teeth baring out as if it were mocking.

It seems like the next moment, it's going to pounce on me!

Don't put your hand in the dog's mouth. These words echoed in my mind, and the tide of darkness instantly overwhelmed my vision and perception.

My consciousness wasn't awake until the darkness receded.

It's like having a long dream, but the actual time that hasn't passed that much may not be.

Once you wake up, your head quickly regains its sobriety.

It's like a clear straight line, and the middle is erased with an adhesive plaster, leaving a black patch.

I woke up to find myself still in the toilet.

I lay down in the tiled aisle, and the tiles here were polished.

No ammonia odor, no nausea urine marks and mosses.

Glamorous and shiny.

Ceiling lights.

Not a school toilet.

Where is this? I don't know what to do.

I still remember what happened before I fell unconscious. Missing students, enigmatic messages, weird red lights, and vicious dogs with six eyes.

Don't put your hand in the dog's mouth.

I reached out to the six-eyed dog, but if I put it in its mouth, it was more like it had been bitten.

Really bitten. My soul aches.

The missing student, is he here too?

Standing in a strange place, I didn't have the slightest fear, and when I realized it, I was surprised.

My reason is working, but my sensibility is cowering in a corner.

Logic is rational.

Because of the blank space created by the coma, my logic produces dead ends.

I want to know where I am.

So, I walked out of the city.

Outside the toilet is a hallway, with numbered rooms on one side and a glass window on the other. Outside the window, the sun is shining, the green carpet, the low trees, there is a small pond, the spring water flows from the water bottle on the mermaid's stone shoulder, there are benches in the shade, and there are some community play equipment such as horizontal bars, sand pits, swings and seesaws.

Warmth, tranquility, peace – you should have found such beautiful words here.

However, there are human corpses everywhere.

The earth had been dug up, the blood had dried up, the stumps and entrails scattered all over the place.

It's like a battlefield that has been swept across, leaving shocking scars one after another.

The sights and smells that fill the senses are disgusting.

As far as the eye can see, the half-ruined building is exposed to the steel structure, the faint black smoke is drifting everywhere, and the inexplicable black shadow jumps on the roof, like a fairy wandering in the concrete forest.

It's weird, I don't have the slightest fear.

My reason is working, but my sensibility is cowering in a corner.

Logic is rational, and it whispers in my ear.

This is the slaughterhouse of the apocalypse.

The roar of the dead was heard clearly.

The brick wall that surrounds the land is high, about two meters, and the broken glass stuck in the cement on the top of the wall glistens in the sunlight. The entrance and exit is a five-meter-wide fancy grid iron gate, which is closed. An off-road vehicle is parked on the road outside the door, revealing a black trunk.

A group of ragged, withered and ugly fellows wandered outside the iron gates.

No matter how you look at it, it is impossible for a person who has lost half of his head, whose chest has been cut open, and whose internal organs have been dragged to the ground, who is still alive.

They, no, they, are a bunch of walking dead, resurrected undead.

Zombies –

The most vivid name.

It's a ridiculous scene, it's like a dream.

I lit a cigarette.

Other than that, there was no sign of a living person, either in the garden or on the road outside the door.

It is an abandoned and desolate institution.

Only an eerie silence remained.

It's heart-pounding.

Is there anyone else here? I don't know what to do.

Zombies are wandering outside the door, are they lurking here? Perhaps.

I walked down the hallway, this was the third floor, the house number was always starting with three, all the rooms were closed, I didn't open them.

In the middle of the corridor there is a staircase, and next to the staircase is a spiraling slope. I've seen structures like this in well-equipped public places, where the ramp is for wheelchairs.

It's like an orphanage or a retirement home.

There was a standing fire cabinet at the top of the staircase, and I took off my coat to wrap my elbows around and smashed the glass hard to get the fire axe out.

Dogs barking from upstairs.