Chapter 3: The Locked Room
Yu Sheng’s head felt heavy and muddled as if a thick fog had settled inside his mind. The distant hum of traffic on the main road drifted in and out, like a dream slipping away the moment you tried to grasp it.
He wandered in this half-dazed state for what felt like ages before his thoughts began to clear. Slowly, he came to a stop and turned to glance back at the path he’d been walking.
Night had fallen. The streetlights now shone brightly along the road, casting a warm, yellowish glow. He found himself on a narrow street close to home, surrounded by old, weathered apartment buildings. They stood like silent sentinels in the dark, their aging walls looming over him. Yet, the soft light spilling out from small, makeshift shops on the ground floor—homes turned into businesses—offered a strange comfort, gently easing the cold feeling gnawing at his chest.
Cold?
Suddenly, Yu Sheng shivered as he felt an icy chill seep into his lungs, like frozen blades piercing through his skin. His mind flashed back to those cold, slippery eyes—the eyes of the frog.
He gasped, his breath caught in his throat, as panic crept in. It took several seconds before he could remember how to breathe. When he finally managed to, he pressed his hand to his chest.
For a brief, terrifying moment, he imagined a hole where his heart should be like his chest had been hollowed out. His heart, once a warm, beating thing, now seemed cold and lifeless, as if it had been snatched away. But then, as he stood there, he heard it—thump, thump. His heartbeat was louder and clearer than ever before. He was alive. He hadn’t been killed by that monstrous frog after all.
But the memories—wild and scattered—came flooding back, unstoppable like a raging river. Yu Sheng remembered the rain, the strange door painted on the wall, and the giant frog. He tried to push the thoughts away, to convince himself it had all been some twisted dream. But the harder he tried, the clearer and sharper the memories became.