"Drip..."
"Drip..."
"Drip..."
Moist, cold droplets landed on his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and gradually soaking the pillow and the bedsheets below.
The air became heavier and heavier, as if lacking oxygen, making it almost impossible to breathe, forcing him to open his mouth for heavy gasps, trying to maintain the oxygen supply to his lungs.
"Ha... ha..."
Du Wei felt as if something was pressing down on him, making him completely immobile in bed, and no matter how hard he struggled, it was all in vain.
He knew he was having a nightmare, but he couldn't control himself to wake up.
This was unimaginable.
Any normal person, upon realizing they're in a nightmare, would instinctively resist due to their body's inherent nature, causing them to wake up from the dream.
Like the sudden sense of weightlessness in sleep or unexpected heart palpitations.
And those who specialized in studying human psychology and consciousness often could escape the dream in their subconscious or change the dream.
But Du Wei couldn't do it, or rather, he was trapped in a deeper level of dreams, only able to wait for the physiological awakening.
His consciousness was chaotic, barely able to think, only enduring the experiences of the nightmare in a dazed state.
Droplet after droplet of an unknown liquid fell on Du Wei's face, some of it seeping into his eyes and mouth, an extremely unpleasant sensation.
He felt a physiological revulsion, the smell of the unknown liquid making him instinctively agitated to no end, trying to scream, but it was useless.
His past calm and rationality seemed like the poorest facade in the dream, and once pulled aside, what was exposed was an utterly ordinary soul, no different from you or me.
Du Wei felt he was about to suffocate, unable to breathe.
The fear brought on by the physiological effects was hard to suppress, difficult to remain calm in the face of it.
Especially in dreams, where people are at their most vulnerable and most helpless.
"Whoosh..."
Du Wei let out a breath, his chest heaved violently, his body involuntarily arching upwards as he suddenly opened his eyes to see a woman dressed in nun's habit hovering above him, opening her mouth, dripping dark brown blood from her fierce fangs.
Body parallel, eyes met.
It stared fixedly at Du Wei, its mouth curling into a bizarre smile filled with malice.
Du Wei felt a sharp pain in his heart, an immense fear welling up from the depths of his core.
His once clear and calm deep black pupils suddenly constricted, and his eyeballs became laced with dense networks of blood vessels.
...
May 18th, Monday, 2:19 a.m.
Inside the bedroom on the second floor of the psychological counseling clinic.
Suddenly, Du Wei sat up in bed, breathing slightly hurried, his face an abnormal shade of pale, like that of a patient recovering from a serious illness.
He stretched out his right hand to support his forehead, rubbing it gently.
"What a weird dream..."
Du Wei's voice was hoarse, his eyebrows tightly furrowed, displaying great discomfort.
Thinking of what he had experienced in the dream made him feel nauseated from the bottom of his heart, his stomach contracting faintly, with a strong urge to vomit.
Throwing off the covers, Du Wei put on his slippers, intending to go to the bathroom. But as he reached the door, he stopped in his tracks.
The bedroom door, which had been intact, had been destroyed two days ago during an encounter with the second evil spirit and he had taken it down. The new wooden door had not yet been delivered.
So, at the moment, the bedroom's entrance to the second-floor space was completely unobstructed.
And there, on the floor at the doorway.
A basketball-sized object was quietly placed on the ground, with some shadows fanning out behind it, much like congealed bloodstains.
Du Wei took a breath, his eyes turning extremely cold. He pressed down on the bedroom's light switch with one hand, while the other hand pulled out a pistol from the pocket of his pajamas.
"I don't have the habit of throwing things around, so is it the Evil Spirit again?"
As the light turned on in an instant, the pistol's safety was also released.
However, what entered his view...
Was a human head covered in dried blood.
The shadows were chestnut hair, tangled with some bloodstains, appearing like weeds.
Du Wei's complexion instantly took on a strange color.
"A human head?"
He held the gun and drew out the silver cross dagger that he kept on him, moving closer.
"Is it Roy?"
From such a close distance, Du Wei could see clearly the face of the head. The originally delicate features were now twisted beyond recognition. The large amount of blood that had coagulated under the skin presented a soy-sauce color.
Only the eyes were wide open, revealing their original azure hue.
And the massive wound below the head looked as though it had been brutally torn apart by an immense force.
It was Roy...
Du Wei's eyes regained their calm as he walked over, not even glancing at the washroom.
He had grown to calmly face these horrifying events that transcended reality, even reaching a point where he could ignore them to a certain extent.
After all, whether it's the Evil Spirit or some other strange creature, their power largely stems from human terror and emotions—the more violent the emotional fluctuation, the faster one dies.
At that moment, inside the washroom.
The light was normal, and the faucet had not mysteriously turned on by itself.
Twisting the tap, clear and cold water flowed out.
Du Wei washed his face, his mind becoming clear. He stared at the bottom of the wash basin, took a deep breath, then turned and walked out of the washroom, back into the bedroom.
Tap tap tap...
The only sounds in the house were footsteps.
Outside, the rain continued to fall without any sign of abating.
And the latest weather forecast indicated that this kind of relentless downpour would persist for the coming week.
...
Early morning, 6:20.
Du Wei drove away from the heart consultation clinic in his Subaru Impreza, heading straight for the church where Father Tony was.
When he arrived, there were already several people praying in the church.
Du Wei had no particular faith, nor did he have a liking for the church's practices, so he just glanced at Father Tony on the church's podium and then found a corner to sit down in.
At that moment, a woman sitting in front, with her head lowered and sobbing, caught his attention.
From the back, the woman had a slight hunch, her black hair tied into a ponytail, with a tank top that exposed her shoulders. Her skin was on the yellower side, suggesting she might be of Asian descent.
In the West, praying is a very sacred act. When someone is praying and can't control their emotions, leading to sobbing or crying, it often means that person is experiencing a pain and torment that ordinary people can't endure.
Du Wei remembered seeing some cases where killers and their family members, while praying, would become so emotionally agitated due to inner turmoil and anxiety that they ended up being reported and caught by the law.
Of course, a priest would not do such a thing, because as a person of faith, a priest would never go against his principles and betray the secrets of any confessor.
Watching the woman, trying to guess the reason for her sobs, suddenly, Du Wei's eyes became dry, and a sharp buzzing sound filled his ears.
Spirit Vision...