Chapter 2: Rebirth

Chaos reigned below. Utter, terrifying chaos. And the figures… those figures in tattered rags, skin mottled greenish-black… were they… people?

“Ah…!” A face suddenly slammed against the glass from outside – upside down. Purplish skin, bulging eyes, viscous, foul-smelling drool dripping onto the pane. Su Xiaomu recoiled instinctively, slamming the window shut.

CRACK! The glass shattered under the force of the rotting corpse’s fist, shards spraying across the dusty floor.

Su Xiaomu stumbled back, panic seizing him. He grabbed the nearest chair, heaving it with all his meager strength at the thing clawing its way through the broken window. The rotting body crumpled under the impact, plummeting to the street below.

“Huff… huff…” Su Xiaomu collapsed onto the filthy sofa, gasping for breath, heart hammering against his ribs. Terror held him frozen.

“Fuck! What was that thing?! What kind of world is this?!” He managed to force his breathing to slow, patting his chest in a futile attempt to calm himself. Then his gaze fell on his hands.

“Aaaaahhhh!” The scream tore from his throat. It wasn’t his fault. His hands… they were skeletal, covered only by a thin layer of parchment-like skin stretched taut over bone. They looked like the hands of a desiccated corpse.

He scrambled up, frantic. He needed a mirror. NOW. He flung open the nearest door. A large bed, equally thick with dust. The disturbed particles made him cough violently. “Pah! Pah!”

Spitting grit, he scanned the room. A wardrobe. And on its door, a full-length mirror.

Su Xiaomu swallowed hard, bracing himself. Even so, the reflection staring back sent him crashing back onto the floor. Sunken eye sockets, coated in grime. A face reduced to skin clinging to sharp bone. Lips cracked and desiccated. The stark jut of his jawbone.

“Shit!” He touched his cheek. The skin felt rough, scraping painfully under his fingers. “Where did this mummy come from?” He had to face it. This grotesque, half-dead figure… was him.

Su Xiaomu sat slumped on the floor, head bowed. A grim reality demanded his attention. Su Xiaomu was dead. Then reborn. A vault of gold. A new life. It should have been incredibly lucky. But… but… but… Why the corpses?! The disgusting, attacking corpses! Why was the world below in ruins, devoid of living souls?

“Did I jump dimensions?” His mind raced. The buildings looked familiar, though a hidden vault in an apartment was baffling. But those things… those things…

The image of the putrid, aggressive corpse flooded back. Calm evaporated. He lurched to his feet, staggering back to the living room. He tried the TV. Dead. Frantically, he yanked open drawers and cabinets. His trembling hands finally closed on a single, yellowed newspaper.

“I’m hallucinating… I must be…” His lips trembled. He shook his head violently, fingers clutching the brittle paper so tightly it threatened to tear. His eyes burned, fixed on the headline date.

“FUCKING HEAVENS! I don’t wanna curse! I’m a college student! I’m educated!” Su Xiaomu surged to his feet, jabbing a bony finger skyward, unleashing a torrent of furious, spittle-flecked invective. “SCREW YOU, HEAVEN! YOU SICK JOKER! I was from 2012! Why kill me?! Fine, kill me! Then why rebirth me?! Rebirth’s okay, but why dump me in THIS world?! I don’t want the future! I want my…!”

He ranted until his throat was raw and dry. It changed nothing. THUD… THUD… SCRAPE… The sound of something heavy pounding and scraping against the apartment door cut through his tirade, sending a fresh wave of terror through him.

Su Xiaomu bolted into the kitchen. He snatched a cleaver from a block. He twisted the faucet – water! He gulped it down greedily, ignoring the grime on his face. No time.

CRASH! The front door gave way, collapsing inward with a deafening boom.

Su Xiaomu pressed himself flat against the wall behind the kitchen door, peering through the crack. A figure shambled in – another rotting corpse, similar to the first. One arm hung by shreds of muscle and tendon, dark purple and red. Its remaining eye socket gaped emptily. Long, blackened nails curled from its fingers. It moved with agonizing slowness, but its head turned unerringly towards the kitchen, drawn by his presence.

It shuffled closer. Su Xiaomu held his breath, knuckles white on the cleaver’s handle. His entire emaciated frame shook with primal fear.