Book 2: Chapter 2: The Return of the Dead
There were no lights, just a few candles.
The flame’s faintly pulsing glow caused the surrounding dark space to blur together with a constantly flickering, mysterious hue. At a quick glance, it looked like some ancient mystical ceremony was being conducted.
The indistinct glow illuminated the mess of objects and the mottled walls.
Chunks of cement had already fallen from the walls, exposing the spiderweb of old-fashioned bricks. A large and ugly black gecko was currently swishing its long, thick tail between the cracks of the bricks to forcefully break through, causing dust to fall everywhere with a rustling sound.
This place was a bit like a basement, or perhaps a long-abandoned warehouse. The damp ground had accumulated uneven patches of sewage water. The air was saturated with the smell of mould.
He stood motionless there like a statue, with his back facing the circle of lit candles.
The energetic candlelight magnified the reflection of his back projected on the opposite wall, forming a sinister, gigantic shadow. Quietly lying underneath the shadow was a lidless coffin.
The coffin was not large and was entirely pitch-black. It seemed to have been placed there for several years, as the bottom of the coffin that was soaking in the water had already started to reek. The dark body of the coffin was covered in large patches of mould, disgusting dark-green among layers of white fuzz.
He stood three steps away, lost in thought as he stared at the coffin. His cracked lips slowly curled upwards into an unnoticeable arc to form a strange smile on his suntanned face.