"No... don't..."
Mark felt that his body was pressed down heavily and he couldn't move. His heartbeat accelerated, as if an invisible hand was tightly grasping his neck. His hands were scrabbling in the air, as if he wanted to grab something to rely on. His breathing became rapid, and his chest rose and fell violently, like a diver who had been holding his breath underwater for too long and urgently needed fresh air.
Mark opened his eyes suddenly and found that he was lying on the cold ground. He struggled to sit up and looked around. It was pitch black all around, and only faint cries could be heard.
Mark held his forehead and slowly sat up from the cold ground. His head was splitting, as if someone had hit it hard with a hammer. He shook his head, trying to dispel the chaos in his mind. It was still pitch black around him, and he couldn't see his hand in front of him. The cries came intermittently, like the whispers of ghosts, which made people creepy. "Where is this?" Mark whispered to himself, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken for a long time. He stretched out his hand tentatively and felt around. A cold and rough touch came from his fingertips, like the surface of some kind of rock.
He groped forward, taking every step carefully. In the darkness, he seemed to be in an endless abyss, and loneliness and fear surged like a tide, surrounding him. The howling sound was sometimes far and sometimes near, as if it was right next to his ears, and as if it came from the depths of a distant hell. Mark couldn't help but shudder, he clenched his fists, trying to keep himself calm. "Calm down, calm down..." He kept reminding himself, taking a deep breath, trying to calm his panicked heartbeat.
Mark struggled to stand up, groped forward, and hit a cold stone wall. He moved slowly along the stone wall, his fingertips scratching the rough stone surface, leaving a faint trace of dust. Suddenly, his hand touched something like a door handle. The metal touch was icy and piercing, and it was particularly clear in the dark. Mark was delighted and pulled hard.
"Creaky--"
The stone door opened slowly with a heavy friction sound, and the harsh sound was particularly abrupt in the silent darkness. Scarlet light shone in from outside the door, and Mark subconsciously covered his eyes with his hands. After staying in the dark for a long time, his eyes suddenly came into contact with the strong light, and a stabbing pain came, making him squint his eyes. He tried to adapt to the change in light and slowly lowered his arm that was covering his eyes.
After adapting to the light, Mark looked out cautiously. He found himself in the center of a huge square. There was a scarlet moon hanging in the sky, and the ground of the square was paved with huge bluestone slabs, reflecting dazzling light under the moonlight. In the center of the square stood a towering tower, the tower body was pitch black, like a huge black giant, standing quietly in the center of the square. The top of the tower was as sharp as a thorn, piercing the sky, as if to pierce the sky.
There were many figures gathered in the square, they were dressed differently, some were ragged, like beggars; some were dressed in gorgeous clothes, like nobles. Their faces were filled with confusion and fear. Some cried softly, shrugged their shoulders, and uttered suppressed sobs. Some looked around blankly, their eyes were empty, as if they had lost their souls. Some, like Mark, looked around in confusion, frowned, and their eyes were full of confusion.
Mark took a deep breath and tried to keep himself calm. He observed the crowd around him, trying to find some familiar faces or people who could help. He walked down the steps slowly, and his footsteps echoed in the empty square, which was particularly clear. Others in the square did not seem to notice Mark's arrival. They were still immersed in their own emotions, crying or wandering around blankly.
Mark found that these people had no shadows in the moonlight.
Mark tentatively walked towards the nearest person. This was a young man with ragged clothes, messy hair, and a face full of dirt. He was sitting on the ground crying softly, and his body was shaking slightly. Mark walked up to him and gently patted his shoulder.
"Hello?" Mark asked softly, with a hint of temptation in his tone.
The figure in the photo slowly turned around, his movements were stiff, like a puppet. He raised his head, revealing a bloodless face. His eyes were empty and lifeless, as if he had lost focus, staring straight at Mark, which made Mark feel a little scared. His lips were chapped, and there were some dark red bloodstains at the corners of his mouth, as if he had not drunk water or eaten for a long time. He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, no sound came out.
Mark looked at the man in front of him, and a sense of uneasiness surged in his heart. "Are you okay?" Mark asked again, with a hint of worry in his tone.
The man still did not answer, but stared straight at Mark, his eyes were empty, as if he wanted to suck Mark's soul in. Mark felt a chill on his back, and he subconsciously took a step back, wanting to stay away from this weird man.
The man suddenly reached out and grabbed Mark's arm, with such force that Mark felt a pain. His fingers were icy cold, like a dead person. He opened his mouth, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and said in a hoarse voice: "Save...save me..."
"Save you?" Mark looked at the man's empty eyes, his heart full of doubts. He wanted to break free from the man's hand, but found that he was surprisingly strong and he couldn't break free at all. "What do you want me to save you from?" Mark asked, with a hint of vigilance in his tone.
The man held Mark's arm tightly, as if he had grabbed a life-saving straw, and he trembled and said: "Take me...away from here..." His voice was intermittent, as if he would die at any time.
In the square, a woman in gorgeous clothes suddenly stood up. She looked around blankly, then walked towards the tower, muttering something in her mouth. Her figure looked particularly thin in the sun, as if she would disappear at any time.
Mark looked at the woman's back as she walked away, and his heart became more confused. "Where exactly is this place?" He whispered to himself.
"Take me...away from here..." The man still held Mark's arm tightly, his tone full of despair and pleading.
Mark looked at the man, and a trace of sympathy rose in his heart. "I'll try my best." Mark said firmly.
Mark tried to pry the man's hand away from his arm, but the man's hand was like an iron clamp, and he didn't move at all. "First tell me where this place is and who you are?" Mark gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his inner anxiety.