The Eye That Was Not His

The air in the room was thick with an eerie stillness.

The eyeball, embedded within the crack in the ceiling, seemed almost alive—radiating a chilling, deathly aura. Blood seeped from the wooden crevice, dripping onto the floor, staining it with dark, crimson blotches.

Jack swallowed hard, his hand instinctively resting on his holstered gun. "Maybe… we should get the hell out of here?"

Jamie, however, kept her gaze fixed on the eye. In a hushed tone, she asked, "Sandra, do you think it's watching us… or asking for help?"

Sandra stepped directly beneath the eye, studying it carefully before murmuring, "This wooden panel might be loose."

Reaching into her pocket, she produced a scalpel and carefully wedged it into the crack. The wood shifted slightly—just enough to reveal a deeper cavity behind it.

Then, an overwhelming stench of rot filled the air.

Jack gagged, staggering backward as he covered his nose. "God, what the hell is that?!"

Sandra remained unfazed, continuing to pry at the panel. The moment she pulled it back—

A hand shot out from the darkness.

"FUCK!" Jack shouted, stumbling over a chair in his panic.

Jamie's pulse spiked, but she forced herself to remain still, eyes locked on the decayed limb protruding from the ceiling.

The hand was ghastly, its skin a sickly grayish-white, fingers stiff and claw-like, nails blackened with decay. The wrist was barely holding together, the bones beneath exposed through rotting flesh.

But the most horrifying part?

An eyeball was embedded in the center of the palm.

Jamie's breath hitched. "…Is this Li Ziran's missing eye?"

Sandra's expression darkened. "We can't be sure, but it's a lead."

She carefully grasped the grotesque hand—its texture was disturbingly soft, not yet fully mummified. With a firm pull, she yanked it free from the crevice.

The severed hand dropped to the floor with a wet thud, limp and lifeless. Yet the eyeball, nestled within its palm, remained eerily intact. Clouded, but glistening with an unnatural sheen.

Then, a whisper.

"…Give it back…"

The words echoed through the room, faint and rasping, as if carried from another realm.

Jamie and Sandra exchanged a glance before turning to Jack.

Jack immediately raised his hands. "Don't even look at me. I'm not running DNA tests on that thing."

Sandra, completely unfazed, slipped on a fresh pair of gloves. "Actually, that's exactly what we need to do."

—

The Next Day – Forensic Examination Room

Jamie and Sandra stood over the examination table as forensic specialists analyzed the severed hand.

Minutes later, an assistant approached, holding a folder. His face was pale.

"The DNA results are in." He hesitated before continuing. "The hand… does belong to Li Ziran."

Jamie exhaled sharply. "And the eye?"

The assistant hesitated longer this time. Then, with a strange look, he said, "The eye… doesn't match."

Jamie's stomach sank. "What do you mean?"

Pushing his glasses up, the assistant clarified, "I mean, this eyeball does not belong to Li Ziran. It belongs to someone else."

Sandra's eyes narrowed slightly, her voice dropping. "Which means… before he died, Li Ziran had taken someone else's eyes for himself."

Jamie murmured, "So he isn't searching for his own… he's searching for the ones he stole."

A heavy silence fell over them.

Then, as if a puzzle piece had clicked into place, Sandra flipped through the old case files they had gathered. Her fingers stopped on a particular page.

"…Here."

Jamie leaned in, eyes scanning the document.

A missing persons report—dated five years ago.

The victim? A blind man.

He was in his thirties, emaciated in appearance, with his eyes concealed beneath a faded cloth blindfold. His occupation was listed as a repairman, struggling to make ends meet.

Last seen near Li Ziran's clinic.

Jamie's voice was barely above a whisper. "Li Ziran took this man's eyes… and replaced his own."

Sandra continued, "But his body was discarded, abandoned inside the apartment's walls. Only one of his hands remained… still clutching an eye that wasn't his."

The room grew deathly silent.

Jamie stared at the hand, an eerie thought creeping into her mind.

"If we return this eye to the apartment… will it finally stop?"

Sandra considered the idea for a moment before nodding. "It's worth a try."

—

That Night – The Apartment

Jamie and Sandra stood in the room where the bodies were found.

In Jamie's hands was a small, padded case—inside lay the stolen eye, resting against dark velvet.

Her pulse quickened. "Are we really doing this?"

Sandra nodded. "If his grudge is tied to his missing eyes, returning it to where he died may put him to rest."

Jamie inhaled deeply, then slowly opened the case.

The eyeball glistened under the dim light, seemingly aware.

Sandra whispered, "Place it down."

Jamie knelt and carefully set the eye onto the wooden floor.

Instantly, the room temperature plummeted.

From the walls, a shadow began to form. Faint at first, then clearer—until the distinct outline of a man emerged.

The blind man.

His form remained translucent, his eye sockets still hollow, yet a single tear slipped from one empty socket, trailing down his decayed cheek.

Slowly, he reached forward, his skeletal fingers brushing against the eye.

Then—

The lights flickered violently.

For a fleeting moment, the shadow's expression softened.

Then, he vanished—dissolving into nothingness.

The air fell still once more.

Sandra let out a quiet breath. "It's over."

Jamie rose to her feet, staring at the empty space where the spirit had been.

At the doorway, Jack hesitated before peeking inside. "So… it's gone, right? No more haunted walls?"

Jamie massaged her temple. "At least this room is fine now."

Jack exhaled, relieved. "Thank God. I swear, if I hear one more thing about 'eyes in the walls'—"

Sandra cut him off with a glance—then slowly lifted her chin toward the ceiling.

Jack followed her gaze.

Above them, in the unopened wooden panels, thin, dark cracks ran along the surface.

Sandra's voice was quiet, but pointed.

"There are still a lot of walls left to tear down."

Jack paled. "Oh, for fuck's sake."