The closet only contained stacks of clothes and patched bedding, the smell of mold due to the dampness drifted out from inside.
Just an ordinary, unremarkable closet, as if everything Lu Li saw yesterday was merely a bizarre dream.
If there had been no attack by the blood-colored tentacles, Lu Li would indeed think so.
Without a doubt, the blood-colored tentacles were the culprit behind the holes in Claire's forehead. And now, the blood-colored tentacles had burrowed into Lu Li's forehead, currently hiding in some part of his skull, waiting for an opportunity to act.
The ticking of the clock's moving hands emitted an almost imperceptible sound, each movement signifying that Lu Li had safely made it to the next second.
Unnoticed, the hands ticked for the hundredth time, or perhaps a hundred and something times, sometimes the noisy sounds from the street drowned out the ticking.
