Chapter 52 Who is he

A few months ago, while I was in the hospital recovering from a heart attack, I experienced a strange and frightening incident that troubled me beyond explanation. Now, I want to write it down as soon as I have a little memory. After my condition improved, the hospital transferred me from a well-cared-for ward to an ordinary single room at the end of the cardiac ward. The room was long and narrow and not very well lit.There are about ten single rooms on both sides of the ward. For the first day or two, I often close the door to block out the radio and TV from other rooms, and I like to read quietly.

One day, while I was reading, the door of my room opened gently.I didn't hear the door open, but without looking up I could feel someone standing by it. I hoped it was a visitor, but was disappointed and irritated that it was the hospital barber.He wore a thin, ragged-looking alpaca jacket and carried an ugly black bag. He didn't open his mouth to speak, he only raised his thick eyebrows and asked a wordless question. I shake my head. "Ignore it now, maybe later." He lingered for a moment by the door with an expression of open disappointment.Finally turned around and quietly closed the door.

For some reason, I can no longer calm down and read books.By my own admission, he startled me, and his intrusion annoyed me.I also understand that this is not the right situation for a heart patient. I was sedated and tried to rest—but to no avail.Even so, I didn't sleep badly that night (with the help of sleeping pills), and the next morning, after a flurry of showers, sheets, temperature checks and all, I sat down to read again. I found that I still couldn't concentrate on the book, although the book I had read the previous day was very attractive. Finally, when I looked around, I frowned in annoyance, because I understood what annoyance was.

At my request, the door closes again.But now, for no apparent reason, I find myself not wanting it to close.Because I still can't get up and walk.So, I rang the bell for a nurse. A lively, fair-haired Swedish nurse enters.She said, "Tired of the hermit's life? I thought you'd change your mind! "I smiled, a little tamely, I suppose," she said, and went out, leaving the door open. I looked back at the book, but subconsciously kept thinking about the door.In the end, I have to admit a fact: When I read, I definitely don't want that barber to open the door again and scare me.The blaring of the TV and radio continued to bother me, but I tried to ignore it and read.At this point, I'm only partially successful.

Before lunch, I started to feel sleepy, put down my book, and then fell asleep, when suddenly, a horrible, terrifying scream made me sit up from the bed.I believe the sound came from a nearby ward. My heart was pounding, and I secretly told myself that the sound came from the TV.I consoled myself that someone had carelessly turned the volume on the TV to maximum. A few minutes later, there was a commotion in the corridor of the ward, with noisy voices.Nurses and hospital staff rushed by.I didn't expect there were so many people in this ward. The doctors hurried past.There was a murmur of orders, conversation, and then almost total silence.Slowly, the nurses and staff walked back to the corridor of the ward. A few minutes later, a human body covered with adhesive tape from head to toe was pushed past my ward.

I wait a while, then ring the bell for the nurse.The nurse's assistant with fair hair rushed in. I never knew her reaction was so fast. She was a little pale. "What happened?" I asked. She hesitated for a while, then shrugged and said, "Mr. Ike across the passage." "Heart attack?" She nodded. I pay attention to her face. "Isn't it a little unusual for a man with heart disease to call that?" She hesitated again. When she spoke again, she said carefully, "According to the general condition, it is not normal. However, such things sometimes happen. Well, he may be in exacerbated condition and in great pain. Most patients will collapse Next, but he screamed so loudly, it's kind of—not normal."

She smiled, a little forcedly, I think. "But don't think about it. You gradually improve, you read your book, don't think about it. " Of course, I can think nonsense, and I can also think wildly.I was thinking about it all day, all night, and finally there was nothing they could do, and they gave me an extra pill to calm me down. Two days passed peacefully, and one afternoon, while I was reading, the door opened, and I experienced again that unpleasant feeling of being closely and carefully watched. I looked up, and there was still the barber in the alpaca jacket and the old black bag standing by the door.As before, the thick eyebrows were raised, making a wordless question.

As in the previous case, I got angry because he frightened me, and I thought, what a horrible man!Although the door is not closed, but there is no due courtesy, first tap twice? "I don't cut my hair!" I told him, suppressing my anger, "When I need a haircut, I will ask the nurse to let you know!" He still lingered by the door, his face soft and expressionless like a mask, but his bright, black eyes flickered, flickering with disappointment. It's not just disappointment, but I can't say what it is, I can say it's hatred, but it seems too light, it's more like a deep hatred.I feel blood rushing to my face and neck.

"Go away, please?" said gruffly to him. "You're being rude." I may be imagining, but I think he bowed slightly, and after a minute, left. I was just beginning to relax, and just as I was looking forward to my supper, there was another eerie cry from a nearby room.This time it was not a high and screaming cry, but a suppressed low position. I froze, my heart pounded, and I heard yelling, then running.I heard a soft but panicked run for the fire escape.A minute later, there was a sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps, followed by three or four steps. I couldn't see the aisle very clearly, and besides, the ward that made the noise was farther away from me this time, however, as before, I heard people rushing past, shouting, ordering, murmuring, and then returning calm.

In my imagination, I could see the stretcher being rolled down the aisle again, and on it lay the silent man, cowering under a blanket of gray tape. My Swedish nurse's assistant was on leave that day, and the new nurse, a charming red-haired woman, brought me dinner.It was obvious that her happy expression was forced. "Who is it this time?" I asked. She was silent for a while, pretending to arrange my dinner plate, "Mr. Mei, from Ward 375." My ward is Sanqiqi, and Mr. Mei is two wards away from me. I tried to get more information from the new nurse, but without success.She told me that she was not there at the time, and that it was only a few minutes before Mr. May's sad news was heard.

The next day, I tried to get some news from the other nurses, but I couldn't find anything.They were either instructed not to speak, or they decided not to speak. They assured me that Mr. May died peacefully, claiming that there was no moaning or lowing.They told me that before Mr. Mei passed out, he had rang the bell to call the nurse.If it was crying, they insisted, it was "involuntary". They shrugged at my mention about the sound of footsteps running for the fire escape, and one of them said I might doze off, imagining the sound. I wanted to forget that episode, but my heart couldn't be satisfied.That afternoon, as I was reading an incoming letter, I heard a knock on the door and looked up. A well-dressed young man with shiny hair and a mustache stood by the door.He was wearing a clean white jacket and was carrying a small brown box in his hand. "Sir, do you want a haircut?" I hesitated, "Well—don't care about it now, maybe in a day or two." He nodded kindly, "Yes, sir, I'll come back in a day or two." As soon as he left, I regretted not asking him to get a haircut right away, number one, I needed a haircut, and besides, I had to ask him about another hospital barber.I want him gone forever. My recovery was smooth: I insisted one afternoon on a wheelchair ride to the solarium for an hour before the new barber came to cut my hair again. While I was sitting there bored, a security guy from the hospital wandered over, I greeted him and he came over to chat. In my many personal "careers", I have held many different jobs.For example, many years ago, I also worked as a security guard myself.Therefore, the hospital security personnel hit it off with me immediately, and chatted with each other in a friendly and cordial manner. Inevitably, our conversation turned to two deaths in the cardiac ward.Immediately, I noticed that my new friend was less talkative, and I looked around uneasily many times to see if anyone was listening, as if weighing a decision, and finally shrugged. "If you promise not to tell anyone—especially anyone here, I'll tell a little story." I swore on my dignity that I wouldn't say a word.He frowned, not knowing how to begin. "Well, the deaths of those two people are quite strange. First of all, the two people died on the bed with horror faces on their faces, with their eyes open, staring fixedly, as if they saw something horrible and died of excessive surprise! Both times, after they had yelled or groaned, a dwarf was seen running down the passage with a small black bag in his hand! In fact, the second time I saw it myself and ran after it." I felt my heart pounding, "Can you picture that man?" "I mostly saw his back, a thin and small man, wearing a thin gray jacket, and carrying a worn-out black bag. I just glanced at his profile. His skin was smooth. There was nothing to describe. An expressionless face with thick black eyebrows." "That's another barber in the hospital!" I told him.He stared. "Another barber? There's only one in the hospital—a young man with a mustache and a white coat, and he's been here for over a year." He hesitated, "Hey, you see over him?" I wave. "Don't worry about that now, just keep talking." He rubbed his chin, "Well, the first time I didn't see this guy, but the second time I happened to be on the first floor, just as Mr. May was moaning and ringing the bell for the nurse, I saw this little guy running from his room out, and I ran after him down the passage. He ran down the fire escape." "Did you catch him?" He shook his head, "No chance, he ran like a rabbit, like a deer, over the fence of the parking lot. It took me two or three minutes to climb over the fence, and by then, he was gone. " He looked at me and said, "But the craziest part is yet to come, you know that little black bag he's carrying?" I nodded. "Well, when he jumped over the fence, the bag caught on the wire and it fell over the parking lot and I picked it up, what do you think was in there?" "I don't know," I told him, " Don't be a fool!" "Dirt!" he replied, "a bag of dirt! Dirt from the ground!" He continued: "We also found the same soil on the beds of the two dead men!" He looked around again, and said, "Perhaps I shouldn't tell you the story; but since I do, I'll tell you the ending." "Well, I handed over the black bag to the authorities. However, before the police picked it up, I put some soil in a paper bag. I gave it to a friend who works in a laboratory, and he has a microscope and various tests. stuff. You know what he found?" "I can't imagine!" He leaned in. "That dirt, that dirt—he swears it's from the grave!" I felt my heart pounding again, but I pretended to be suspicious, "Oh, how did he judge?" "From the little things mixed in: fine fragments of marble and granite; fragments of artificial flowers and garlands. Not only that, he said, but also two small fragments of bone in the soil, which, upon examination, were human bones! All The earth is mixed with moss, as if dug out of a damp, dark corner of the tomb!", Here's the story, a story I can't explain.The expressionless dwarf with twinkling eyes and thick black eyebrows was never seen again. A self-confessed smart friend of mine said the interpretation of that story was obvious.He told me that the man carrying the black bag was a typical psychopath. He was either born with deformed facial features, or was injured in a car accident. He wore a mask, sneaked into the heart room, took off the mask, and scared the two patients to death.My friend said that the dirt left under the bed was just a horrible whim of an unsane man. This explanation may sound plausible, but I by no means believe it to be true: I personally feel that, for some vague supernatural reason, the horror I mistook for the barber was simply incapable of entering the room of a sick man, Unless ordered to do so, I believe that the two heart patients who died screaming in terror, had allowed him to enter the ward.Of course, no one seemed to remember if they were getting a haircut!I can't explain my point of view, it just stays in my mind, that's all. However, I am sure of one thing, if I had allowed that fatal person to enter the ward, you would not have read this mysterious story-because I believe, I will not live to write this article. For the rest of my life, there will always be one question: who is he?