Carrying My Senior's Coffin (GL) - Chapter 3

Contrary to what Fang Yiyi had imagined, the lock had not rusted from years of disuse. In fact, it worked even better than the one on her old dormitory door. The unlocking sound was crisp and clean, as though the lock were brand-new.

It was already nighttime. The dormitory had stood empty for years, the lights were off, and the curtains were drawn tightly shut, blocking every trace of light from outside. The only illumination came from the corridor.

For some reason, the layout of this room was different from the other dormitories.

First of all, it was slightly larger. Inside, there was only a single bed, a desk, and a chair. The room was vast and empty, swallowed in darkness at a glance, with waves of chill drifting through it like some man-eating monster.

Near the balcony was a small partitioned area without a door. Because of the poor lighting, it was completely black inside, making it impossible to see anything.

Even the light switch was positioned differently from those in the other dormitories.

Fang Yiyi stood by the doorway, using her body to stop the door from swinging shut. Her gaze searched for the switch while her shadow stretched long and thin across the room.

After looking around, she finally spotted it beside the chair, three steps away.

Fang Yiyi frowned in distress.

The door seemed to have some kind of spring mechanism constantly pulling it closed. Standing there and bracing it with her body, she could clearly feel how strong the force was. Anyone careless enough to linger in the doorway could easily get their hand crushed.

To turn on the light, she would have to leave the door.

And once she did, the room would probably become so dark that she could not see her hand in front of her face.

Unless she had absolutely no choice, she truly did not want to be alone in the dark.

She was already lonely enough. If she merged completely with the darkness, silent and unnoticed, perhaps no one would even realize if she died.

Then another voice in her mind coldly challenged her.

Would anyone notice even while you were alive?

That thought was like a hidden switch suddenly being flipped.

A wave of indescribable negativity closed around her. Grief, despair, inferiority, and countless other emotions poured out at once.

Fang Yiyi’s breathing unconsciously quickened.

She leaned against the door, her chest rising and falling violently, and nearly lost her balance.

The feeling was far too familiar.

She had once drowned in emotions like these, spending every day in a daze, isolated from the world, until she was finally driven to slit her wrists.

Her parents’ deaths.

Her best friend’s betrayal.

Her relatives’ disgust.

Every one of them seemed to remind her that the world was wonderful—bright, dazzling, and filled with sunshine.

It was simply a world she did not deserve.

Because she had caused all of it.

She was the culprit responsible for everything becoming this way.

That voice screamed beside her ear again and again, lashing her with accusations.

Everyone else died. Why are you still alive?

What right do you have to live?

Fang Yiyi’s head felt as though it were splitting apart.

She clenched her fist, digging her nails deeply into the flesh of her palm. Only then did the brief stab of pain overpower the spreading suffocation inside her.

Feeling something warm slide across her palm, she lowered her head in a daze.

A dark red stain spread across the outer bedsheet wrapped around her quilt, carrying the metallic scent of rust.

Fang Yiyi closed her eyes.

She loosened her fist, turned her hand over, and pressed it against the sheet.

The dark red gradually spread between her fingers.

A long time later, footsteps sounded from the stairwell, accompanied by laughter, teasing, and noisy chatter as they slowly approached.

The students who had attended evening classes were returning.

Fang Yiyi’s eyelashes fluttered.

She slowly opened her eyes. Fear still lingered in her brown irises, but compared with before, she had recovered considerably.

She only hoped she could sleep well tonight.

It had taken everything she had to crawl out of that man-eating swamp. She never wanted to fall back into it.

And now, she was only here to study.

Fang Yiyi tried to move her legs and only then realized that her limbs had gone stiff.

She was almost unable to keep holding her quilt.

After straining for so long, her arms had become sore and painful.

But she could not remain standing there forever.

Fang Yiyi tightened her arms around the bedding, fixed her eyes on the switch, and rushed forward.

The instant the door slammed shut behind her, she hit the switch.

The sudden brightness made her instinctively narrow her eyes.

Fang Yiyi released a long breath.

The enormous room was now fully illuminated. The doors and windows were tightly closed, cutting it off from the rest of the world.

She was the only person inside.

Judging from the layout, this room had originally been designed for a single occupant.

Zhengling Women’s University was a private institution ranked among the top three universities in the country. It was prestigious, well-funded, and staffed by highly qualified teachers. Its admission standards were demanding, and its internal management was equally strict.

In other words, unless someone’s family possessed truly extraordinary power and influence, no amount of money could buy special treatment.

Yet the person who had lived here before had possessed an entire private room.

Fang Yiyi tossed the quilt onto the bed and sat on the iron railing at the headboard to rest.

Now that the lights were on, she examined the room again.

Because it had remained empty for so long, a thin layer of dust covered the desk and floor. When she entered earlier, she had left a trail of footprints behind.

The room had been too dark for her to notice before, but a large wardrobe made of natural-colored wood stood at the head of the bed, pressed against the wall.

Fang Yiyi estimated its size.

It could probably fit two of her inside without a problem.

The more noticeable feature was the doorless partition near the balcony. Because it was away from the light, it still looked completely black from where she sat.

Nothing could be seen inside.

Fang Yiyi had absolutely no intention of going over to investigate.

She had not felt curious about anything in a very long time.

Besides, it was already late, she had classes tomorrow, and for some reason, she felt especially exhausted today.

She was too tired even to clean.

All she wanted was sleep.

As she decided to be lazy for the night, Fang Yiyi thought that there might not even be a broom in the room. If there was none, she would have to ask the dormitory supervisor for one.

She stood, rummaged through her bag, and pulled out a roll of toilet paper.

Tearing off a long section, she wiped the bedboard carelessly.

Once she was done, there was nowhere to put the dirty paper. After thinking for a moment, she opened a new underwear package, placed the filthy paper inside, and neatly set it on the floor at the foot of the bed beside one of the bedposts.

She would throw it away tomorrow.

By the time everything was arranged, Fang Yiyi checked her old phone and saw that it was already ten o’clock.

She yawned.

Her biological clock rarely allowed her to stay awake past nine thirty. She kicked off her shoes, climbed onto the bed, propped up half her body, slapped the light switch off, then burrowed beneath the covers.

She fell asleep in a second.

Dormitory 404 sank once more into its usual darkness and silence.

Suddenly, a red shadow as fine and faint as a mayfly flickered into view within the darkness.

It moved in a straight line and stopped before the room’s only bed.

A wind that had appeared from nowhere inside the sealed room blew a narrow gap into the curtains. Weak light from the streetlamps outside leaked in.

Within the darkness, a slender gray-white hand appeared.

Its five fingers hung naturally together in midair above the bed. There was no arm attached to it, as though it had materialized out of nothing.

It floated motionless.

Its vivid red fingernails looked wet enough to drip blood, making the sight unbearably eerie.

A moment later, the hand slowly descended.

Fang Yiyi frowned in her sleep.

Perhaps she felt cold, because she curled deeper beneath the covers, drawing herself into a tiny ball without waking.

The hand stopped one inch above the space between her eyebrows.

The wind grew stronger.

With a sudden slap, the curtain struck the glass, the sound sharp and abrupt.

The room fell back into complete darkness.

Yet at the head of the bed, a woman in a long red dress had suddenly appeared.

She was thin, her back hunched as she bent over Fang Yiyi’s head. Her face was lowered, and her long hair spilled down beside the pillow, hiding her features from view.

Fang Yiyi slept restlessly.

A bone-deep chill invaded her entire body.

At first, it was only slight. But for some reason, it intensified with every passing moment.

It was not the broad, all-encompassing cold of winter.

It was a shadowed, lightless chill born from the deepest gloom—like countless tiny needles infused with ghostly energy, piercing her skin and driving into every limb and bone.

Her eyelashes trembled.

She was already awake.

But for some reason, her eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as though they weighed a thousand pounds. No matter how hard she tried, she could not open them.

Her body no longer seemed to belong to her either.

She could not move at all.

Three words appeared clearly in her mind.

Sleep paralysis.