"I... who am I?"
Boom—
A pale bolt of lightning flashed across the dark clouds, Rain poured relentlessly, and a thunderstorm, as furious as the wrath of gods, drenched the muddy earth. In the rippling puddles, a crimson figure was scattered into pieces.
It was a young man dressed in a bright red stage costume. He staggered through the muddy streets as if drunk, the wide sleeves fluttering in the fierce wind. The dirt on the costume was washed away by the rain, and the blood-red hue stood out starkly against the dark night.
"Stop it... stop it!"
"Shut up!"
"I'm about to remember... I'm about to remember..."
"I have a name... a name that belongs to me!"
The young man's wet black hair hung down to his brows. His dazed eyes were filled with confusion. He moved forward with difficulty, clutching his head, as if struggling to recall something.
His roar echoed down the empty street, but before it could travel far, it was swallowed by the endless curtain of rain.
Thud—
In the dim light, his body tripped over a raised stone and fell heavily to the ground!
A streak of crimson blood rolled from the young man's forehead. He lay there motionless, suddenly as if something had come to him, and a faint glimmer of light appeared in his murky eyes.
"Evan Stone..."
A name suddenly flashed through his mind.
The moment he uttered the name, a fragment of memory floated out from the endless murmurs that almost split his head open, merging with the weak body he inhabited.
"What is this... am I crossing over?"
Evan Stone frowned, as he continued to digest the memories of this body. His brain felt as though it were being torn apart with pain.
His name was Evan Stone, 28 years old, an intern director at a theater in Beijing. After a performance at the theater that night, he stayed alone on stage to design the actors' movements. Suddenly, a violent earthquake struck. He felt a sharp pain on his head and lost consciousness.
Now that he thought about it carefully, he was probably killed by a falling spotlight...
At this moment, Evan was also slowly processing the memories of this body. To his surprise, the owner of this body was also called Evan Stone, but their basic understanding of the world was drastically different. The fragmented memories clashed violently, and Evan felt like his mind was about to explode.
He kept breathing deeply, struggling to get up from the ground. His stage costume was a patchwork of black and red, looking utterly disheveled.
For some reason, his body felt incredibly heavy, as though he had been awake for four or five days straight, drained from exhaustion...
"Just go home..."
His fatigued body and fragmented thoughts made it almost impossible to think. He could only rely on the body's instincts to head in the direction of "home."
Although he had no idea how he had ended up here, the memory of this body's original owner had a place in mind. Every day, after taking care of his younger brother at the clinic, he would walk this route. It was normally a two- or three-minute walk from here to home.
But for him now, this journey seemed longer than ever.
The rain, carrying a biting cold, soaked through Evan's body. He trembled uncontrollably, struggling against the cold and fatigue as he walked for ten minutes in the rain. Finally, he reached the front door of the house from his memories.
Evan fumbled in his pockets, realizing he had no keys.
So, he skillfully retrieved a spare key from beneath the newspaper box next to the door and unlocked it.
Creak—
Warm light spilled from the house, illuminating a corner of the dark rainy night, and it also illuminated Evan's pale face.
The moment he saw the light, the tension in his body relaxed. The cold and fatigue that had been plaguing him seemed to dissipate slightly in the warmth of the light.
He stepped into the house and saw two figures sitting at the dining table, their eyes red, as if they had just finished crying.
Hearing the door open, the two figures froze for a moment and then turned in unison.
"Dad... Mom... I'm back."
Evan, with a heavy head, instinctively tried to change his shoes at the door, but he realized he was barefoot. His feet were covered in mud, and his toes were caked with it, leaving two large black footprints on the floor.
At that moment, the two figures sitting at the table stared in shock at the red-clad Evan Stone who had just entered. Their pupils contracted violently.
"You... you..."
The man's Adam's apple bobbed as he opened his mouth in shock, his expression one of disbelief.
"Mom... is there any water at home? I'm so thirsty."
Upon entering, Evan's mind fully relaxed, and his consciousness teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. He mumbled to himself and staggered into the kitchen, where he grabbed the water jug and drank from it greedily.
Glug, glug, glug...
In the kitchen, the figure in red seemed like a beast, devouring the water in a frenzy.
Water dripped from the corners of his mouth and splashed onto the floor, pooling into a puddle that reflected the pale, terrified faces in the living room.
"Ah... Evan?" The woman gathered her courage, trembling as she spoke. "How... how did you get back?"
Evan, still holding the jug, drank without hearing her words. Then, it seemed that drinking this way was too slow, so he shoved the jug into his mouth and crushed it with his teeth!
The synthetic plastic crunched as he chewed hard, and the rushing water flowed into his mouth, refreshing and satisfying!
"Walked back."
A voice came from behind Evan.
Yes... from behind.
At that moment, Evan, still immersed in drinking, heard his own voice clearly reach the ears of the two people in front of him, As if another version of him in red, invisible behind him, stood there with arms outstretched, answering nonchalantly.
"The rain was heavy. I think I got lost."
"I think I fell a few times on the way, and I lost my shoes..."
"Mom, I made a mess of the floor. If it's not urgent, just wait until I wake up tomorrow to clean it... I'm too tired now."
The couple, frozen in place, felt a chill run down their spines. The oil lamp on the table flickered erratically, as though an invisible hand was playfully toying with the flame.
Their faces turned ashen, yet they stood frozen, unable to move.
Finally, the jug was emptied.
Evan wiped his mouth and put the jug down. He turned and stumbled, leaving dark footprints across the floor as he headed toward his bedroom.
"Dad, Mom... You should go to bed early. Goodnight."
He mumbled the words and shut the door behind him, followed by the sound of something heavy landing on the bed.
The living room fell into an eerie silence.
After some time, the two figures, stiff as statues, slowly turned to look at each other.
The flickering lamp steadied, and the strange light barely illuminated the dim living room. They trembled, sitting in their chairs, their faces devoid of color.
"He... he came back," the man rasped. "How is this possible..."
"If he really is Evan..."
"Then who did we kill last night?"