Chapter 139: Terror At The Amusement Park
Uncle Wang, the sanitation worker who does daily cleaning at JOJO Amusement Park, was at that moment braving the scorching sun to sweep the sparse fallen leaves on the street. He would pause now and then to wipe sweat, stand for a while holding his waist, and when he felt tired from sweeping, he would hide under the shuttered hot dog stand to cool off.
On his dark and aged face, his eyes narrowed into two slits. Uncle Wang drank water while lost in a daze, thinking to himself, if things continued like this, how many more days could he keep working here?
He had come from the countryside to labor in the metropolis to earn money before he was even eighteen. In his early years, he could still work on the assembly line in a factory. The money he saved was all spent on marrying his wife and sending their child to school. Now that he was old, he had finally found a job sweeping streets, earning a little to subsidize the family. If he lost even this job, he didn’t dare imagine what he could find to live on afterward.
Looking at the amusement park street, once bustling with crowds, now completely empty, and after being lost in thought for a long time, realizing he was the only one still breathing, this made him sigh over the terrible state of the world, and in his mind appeared the terror incident that happened at the amusement park three days ago.
If it weren’t for that thing, during this summer vacation peak season for the park, how could the largest amusement park in the entire Magic City be completely devoid of people now?
That day was similar to today, with the scorching sun burning backs. There were still many tourists then, so many that Uncle Wang’s already poor hearing couldn’t make out what people around him were saying at all—laughter, screams, noisy sounds… all present. Even if they spoke at normal volume, he might not hear clearly from half a meter away.
He had grown accustomed to life with poor hearing. His family had advised him to buy a hearing aid, but he thought that thing was too expensive and delicate. He considered himself an uncultured rough old man; if he accidentally broke it, the money would be wasted and it would pain him to death.
Because of this, Uncle Wang didn’t notice the change in the amusement park right away that day. Even with people’s terrified mad screams, running, and all sorts of hysterical shouts, he didn’t detect them immediately. He just continued in his usual role as an unremarkable sanitation worker, silently doing the cleaning work.
It wasn’t until he, silently sweeping with his head down, finally noticed a fresh corpse lying on the ground, covered in blood and stabbed with several holes in the body, that he slowly became aware.
At the time, he wasn’t immediately frightened, after all, in an amusement park like this, things like terrifying pranks or young men’s “cosplay” were common and not rare.
It wasn’t until he noticed in his view under the brim of his sanitation worker’s duckbill cap a pair of bloodstained white sneakers and a sharp knife dripping blood nonstop that he looked up and saw a blood-soaked man standing blankly before him with lifeless eyes. Feeling the increasingly intense pungent smell of blood and the gradually dropping environment temperature, he finally jolted in terror, realizing something was seriously wrong.
That man who suddenly went mad in the amusement park, somehow obtaining a sharp knife, was shirtless with a composite pattern centered on an “inverted pentagram” carved on his forehead. He stabbed at anyone he saw with the knife, killing whoever he looked at, completely ignoring gender or age, extremely cruel, and while killing, he muttered and mumbled something in his mouth.
Now that madman had turned his gaze to him, Uncle Wang felt like he was almost suffocating at the time. He trembled wanting to run, but found his legs shaking like chaff, heavier than if filled with lead, unable to move an inch.
Fortunately, law enforcement officers arrived in time. Suddenly several gunshots rang out. He was so scared he squatted down on the spot, hugging his head and closing his eyes, only feeling a gust of wind pass over his body, then hearing the sound of a heavy object and metal falling to the ground.
Perhaps due to overly intense emotions, with his heartbeat racing and blood flowing fast, Uncle Wang felt his vulnerable hearing had temporarily recovered.
He heard the law enforcement officers say the words “kill” and, terrified yet curious, opened his eyes to see the madman with bulging eyes, fallen right in front of him.
That madman was afflicted with several gunshot wounds, blood gushing from the bullet holes in his body, his whole body shaking like a chicken being bled. Just like the innocent people he had stabbed to death all over the street, he too was dying.
Uncle Wang heard that dying madman whisper: “It’s your turn… the mission is now in your hands…” After saying that, the madman died.
Uncle Wang didn’t know if he had misheard or if it was a hallucination produced by his excessive fear.
At the time, he didn’t have time to think so much, only feeling the relief of escaping with his life.
After that day, outsiders said the amusement park was unclean, and then various negative labels came one after another. Fewer and fewer tourists came to the amusement park, and even the law enforcement officers investigating and those men in black coming in and out of the amusement park no longer came.
No tourists means no income, and without income, how could the company afford to keep employees and pay wages?
Uncle Wang had already heard news of internal layoffs. Someone dispensable like him would probably be included…
Uncle Wang sighed, patted his cold legs, and looked toward the site of the accident at the time, as if he could still see that madman who died with eyes wide open mumbling and whispering, mouthing “it’s yours now,” and he couldn’t help shivering, then feeling a stab of pain in his ankle.
Rolling up his trouser leg, Uncle Wang looked at his left leg, pulled down his sock to look at the stinging ankle, and saw a red mark like a burn above the ankle.
“Why is it getting redder?” Uncle Wang gritted his teeth in pain. He had endured much hardship in his life, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of pain. On the contrary, he was very sensitive to pain, to the point that in his whole life, he had never dared to get a single injection or undergo surgery when sick.
From the day the madman killed, Uncle Wang had continuously felt the anomaly in his ankle. At first it was just a slight hot discomfort, but the pain intensified day by day, to the point he could hardly endure it, feeling just like someone had pressed a branding iron on his ankle.
He picked up the water kettle beside him, took off his shoe and sock, then poured the water on the hot ankle.
As soon as the cold water hit, the pain didn’t lessen but increased, the burning pain directly penetrating into the flesh and blood beneath the skin layer, making his eyes bulge, wanting to roar and shout but only able to let out a hoarse low cry.
Uncle Wang’s eyes squeezed out tears from the pain, then he hurriedly lifted his left foot, blowing hard on the ankle. The originally scalded red area now became wrinkled and raised, just like it had really been burned by a branding iron.
Then, Uncle Wang stared blankly at the newly appeared burn scar, because that scar was exactly the same as the pattern the madman had carved on his own forehead that day.
Brew a new story… write more tomorrow.
