Midnight Slaughterhouse

I'm a fledgling intern journalist, eager to create a sensational report. By chance, I heard that there was an abandoned slaughterhouse on the outskirts of the city, around which many terrifying urban legends circulated, especially the earth - shattering serial murder case that took place twenty years ago. The murderer's modus operandi was extremely cruel. He slaughtered the victims like livestock, and the case remains unsolved to this day. Since then, the slaughterhouse has become a forbidden area that everyone avoids. In order to dig out an exclusive news story, I made up my mind and decided to sneak into this mysterious place.

On a dark and stormy night, I carried a camera and a voice recorder and managed to climb over the rusty and rickety barbed - wire fence with great difficulty. Under the moonlight, the slaughterhouse loomed like a dormant behemoth, exuding an indescribable eeriness. The mottled outer walls were covered with vines, which, under the pale moonlight, resembled countless emaciated and twisted ghostly hands reaching towards the sky, making my spine tingle.

The main entrance was tightly locked by thick chains, so I went around to the back and found a dilapidated side door. As soon as I approached it, the door let out a "creak", making a sound that set my teeth on edge and seemed to penetrate directly into my bones. I took a deep breath, turned on my flashlight, and the pale beam struggled to pierce the darkness and shone into the pitch - black and deep corridor.

An indescribable stench immediately hit me, a mixture of the sour smell of rotten meat and the pungent smell of rust, making me almost vomit. The walls were covered with dark - brown stains, like dried - up bloodstains, and rusty knives and broken glass were randomly scattered on the ground, reflecting a cold and dangerous light under the flashlight.

I held my breath and moved forward cautiously. Suddenly, there was a loud "bang" behind me, which was particularly abrupt in this death -ly quiet space. I was so frightened that my whole body trembled. I spun around suddenly, and the beam of the flashlight swept through the empty corridor in a panic. There was nothing there, but somehow the side door had closed. My heart rate skyrocketed, my palms instantly became sweaty, and my back was soaked with sweat. I comforted myself that it was just the wind, and forced down the fear in my heart, continuing to move forward bravely.

At the end of the corridor was an iron door, on which the four characters "Slaughter Workshop" were written in eye - catching red paint. Under the illumination of the flashlight, it was as red as freshly spilled blood. I swallowed hard and reached out to push the door open. In an instant, an even more intense and nauseating stench surged towards me, making my stomach churn and my throat feel as if it was tightly choked, almost unable to breathe.

The workshop was filled with rusty machines in a disorderly manner, looming in the darkness like dormant monsters. There were several chains hanging from the ceiling, with sharp hooks at the ends, swaying slightly in the deathly still air, as if they were about to hook something at any moment.

Suddenly, there was a dull "thud" sound from behind the machines, as if something heavy had fallen to the ground. All the hairs on my body stood on end. I tightly grasped the flashlight and slowly approached the source of the sound. When the beam of the flashlight shone on the ground, I felt my scalp go numb and almost screamed out. There was a severed finger on the ground, already rotten and blackened, but with extremely long nails, curled up distortedly and exuding a disgusting stench.

I forced down the churning in my stomach and, with trembling hands, took a picture of this horrifying scene with my camera. Just then, a sharp metal - on - metal friction sound came from behind me. I turned around in horror. By the faint light, I saw a tall figure in a butcher's apron standing at the door, holding a huge, gleaming cleaver in his hand. His face was hidden in the darkness, but I could clearly feel that a pair of icy - cold eyes were staring at me intently.

"Who are you?" My voice was shaking so much that it was almost inaudible. "I... I'm just..." Before I could finish speaking, that figure suddenly rushed towards me like a mad beast, brandishing the knife. I was so scared that my soul almost left my body. I turned around and ran for my life. But the workshop was full of messy obstacles, and I stumbled as I ran. The heavy footsteps behind me and the sharp sound of the cleaver cutting through the air were like a death knell, each sound pounding heavily on my heart.

I fled in a panic and hid behind a machine, not daring to make a sound. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that it seemed as if it was about to burst out. The footsteps were getting closer and closer, accompanied by a thick, suffocating smell of blood that instantly enveloped me. Suddenly, with a loud "bang", the cleaver hacked hard at the machine I was hiding behind, sparking a dazzling shower of sparks and scaring me almost to death.

I screamed and jumped up, continuing to run for my life. The figure chased after me relentlessly, and from time to time let out a low and eerie laugh that echoed in the empty workshop, making my hair stand on end. I rushed into a narrow and cramped passage, and at the end was an iron door. I was in a hurry and pushed the door with all my might, but the door didn't budge an inch, as if it was welded shut.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer, and I could even clearly hear the harsh sound of the cleaver being dragged on the ground. I beat on the iron door desperately, and my hands turned red from fear and exertion. Just then, I noticed a combination lock on the door.

My mind was racing. In a panic, I first entered the year the slaughterhouse was built: 1985. There was a "beep", indicating an error. I tried several other possible number combinations in succession, but each time I heard the despairing error prompt tone.

The sound of the cleaver hacking at the iron door was getting closer and closer, and each blow made me tremble with fear. I forced myself to calm down and stared fixedly at the combination lock. Suddenly, I noticed that four numbers on it were worn particularly brightly: 0, 2, 1, 5. I tried hard to recall the calendar I saw in the corridor. The calendar was frozen on January 5, 2002. I fumbled and entered "0201" first, but it was wrong; then I tried "0105", and it was still wrong. There was only one last chance left. I gritted my teeth and, with trembling hands, entered "1502".

With a "click", the door actually opened. Without thinking, I rushed in and quickly locked the door behind me. This was an office, and the walls were densely covered with photos and newspapers. When I shone the flashlight on them, I felt my eyes go dark and almost fainted directly. All those photos were of the victims. Some were hanging on chains, their bodies distorted; some were lying on the blood - stained chopping boards, their eyes wide open, full of fear; and some had been brutally dismembered, and the scenes were horrific... The headlines of the newspapers read: "Serial Killer Still at Large", "Human Flesh Found in Slaughterhouse", and so on.

Suddenly, there came the sound of the cleaver hacking frantically at the iron door outside, blow after blow, shaking the whole room. I looked around in horror and found that there was another back door in the office. I rushed towards it like a drowning person grasping at a straw, only to find that the door was firmly locked.

The hacking sound was getting louder and louder, and the iron door began to distort and deform, as if it could be split open at any moment. I was extremely anxious and rummaged frantically through the drawers for the key. Just then, I found a diary. I opened the first page with trembling hands, and it read: "I finally found the perfect slaughterhouse..."

Before I could finish reading, with a "crash", the iron door was split open. The butcher walked in step by step. By the dim light, I finally saw his face clearly - it was an extremely distorted face, with blood - shot eyes, so red that they seemed to be about to bleed, and the corners of his mouth were grinning to his ears, revealing a row of yellowed and uneven teeth, just like a devil crawling out of hell.

"Welcome to my slaughterhouse," he said in a hoarse and crazy voice. Every word was like a sharp knife. "You will become my most perfect work..."

I screamed in horror. In a panic, I grabbed the desk lamp on the table and threw it at him with all my strength. While he was dodging, I desperately rushed towards the door. But he was extremely quick. He grabbed my hair and dragged me back hard. I struggled desperately, scratching several bloodstains on his face with my fingernails, but he seemed not to feel the pain at all and just let out a burst of crazy laughter.

He pressed me onto the chopping board, and I could clearly feel the cold metal against my skin. A chill instantly spread throughout my body. He raised the cleaver high, and I closed my eyes in despair, filled with the fear of death, thinking that I was about to die.

At the critical moment, the back door of the office was suddenly kicked open. It turned out that when I was rummaging for the key, I had accidentally triggered a hidden alarm device, and the police had already been secretly monitoring this suspicious place. Several policemen rushed in like heavenly soldiers, and quickly subdued the butcher. I slumped to the ground, my body trembling uncontrollably, and tears streamed down my face. The joy of survival and the fear of what had just happened intertwined in my heart.

Later, during the interrogation, the true identity of this butcher was finally revealed. His name was Zhang Dequan, who had once been an ordinary worker in this slaughterhouse. Twenty years ago, his wife and daughter were unfortunately killed in a car accident, but the perpetrator escaped legal sanctions by virtue of his power and influence. This sudden tragedy completely destroyed his sanity and hope for life.

"They took away my family just like slaughtering livestock," Zhang Dequan said extremely calmly during the interrogation, but beneath that calmness was hidden endless pain and hatred. "So I also want them to taste what it's like to be treated like livestock."

From then on, he began to deliberately choose those people related to the perpetrator to take revenge, using the cruel techniques he had learned in the slaughterhouse to "deal with" them. In order to evade the police's pursuit, he faked his own death and then hid in this abandoned slaughterhouse all the time. Every night when darkness fell, he would turn into a devil and continue his inhumane "killing work".

The police found even more heinous evidence in the basement of the slaughterhouse: frozen human organs, eerie handicrafts made from the victims' bones, videotapes recording the last painful moments of each victim... Just thinking about those scenes was enough to make one shudder.

Zhang Dequan was finally sentenced to death and received the punishment he deserved. But for me, this nightmare was far from over. After going through all this, I began to deeply doubt human nature, became extremely afraid of the dark, and even couldn't help feeling nauseous at the sight of meat. Whenever it was late at night and everything was deathly quiet, I always felt that I could hear the terrifying sound of the cleaver hacking and smell the lingering, pungent smell of blood...