Paintings of Terror

“Sahism.” There was a profound, biting chill added to Mu Yiran’s cold voice, likely because they were on a snow-covered mountain.

Ke Xun had confirmed his guess. He then asked, “Doesn’t Sahism’s teachings preach kindness, helping others, absolving one of one’s emotions and mortal desires, and freeing oneself of worldly worries? Why would ‘that kind of thing’ exist here? Could it be that there aren’t any terrifying creatures in this world?”

“Sahism is an amalgamation of many different religions.” Mu Yiran said, “At the start of the eleventh century, it also split into many different denominations. Furthermore, the gods worshipped in Sahism are not limited to benevolent gods. They have also assimilated pagan figures and even demons into their pantheon. According to their doctrine, as long as the deity is willing to surrender to the ways of Sahism, they can be integrated into their pantheon. Moreover, these demons can be ordered about by high-ranked members of their clergy.”

Ke Xun: “…I can feel the malice of the gods.”

Mu Yiran looked at him and smiled faintly. “If you knew what era this painting was created in, that feeling would grow even more profound.”

“…Please put it in the most euphemistic way you can,” Ke Xun said.

Mu Yiran didn’t even bother. “Back then, there was only the church, slave owners and slaves.”

“…” Ke Xun smiled softly. “It’s not what I think, is it?”

“Looking at the material and style of our clothes, we’re obviously not slave owners.” Mu Yiran looked away. “Even if we were believers of the Church, according to the era we’re in, we still wouldn’t have control over our own life and death.”

Ke Xun raised a hand and slowly covered the top of his head. “…I once heard that there was a method of torturing slaves where they would make a cut in someone’s scalp. They would then pour mercury down the opening. The liquid would seep between the skin and flesh and separate them by virtue of its weight. Even after that, the person would still be alive for a while…. I’m going to go see Qin Ci.”

After saying that, he got up.

“For what?” Mu Yiran looked at him.

“I want to ask Dr. Qin if there’s a painless method of suicide that only lasts a second,” Ke Xun said, “I don’t want to have my skin peeled off before I die.”

Mu Yiran said in a flat voice, “It’s impossible to die a painless death within one second. But if you want to die, the rocks on the ground could probably help you accomplish your goal.”

Ke Xun thought that Mu Yiran was right. If nothing else, he could sever the artery in his neck with a sharp rock. Although it would hurt, it was still better than being skinned alive.

Ke Xun pushed the tent’s flap open and picked through the rocks with the help of the light reflecting off of the snow. He picked two thin rocks that had relatively sharp edges. He held one over to Mu Yiran. “Do you want one? I can give you my spare.”

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

“What?” Wei Dong asked.

“A weapon you can use to kill yourself with.” After saying this, Ke Xun ran away.

“Fuck.” Wei Dong cursed under his breath. He held the rock in his arms. “What a frickin’ good friend you are. You really think of me all the time.”

Ke Xun returned to his tent and closed the flap. He then asked Mu Yiran: “Do you have any idea how we’ll solve this painting?”

Mu Yiran muttered, “Since this painting is called ‘Faith’, this instance must be related to religion. Sahism has many branches. Its pantheon is also huge. It’s still a bit too early to figure out how to solve it.”

Ke Xun lied on the rug face up. “Looks like the probability that someone will die tonight is really high.”

Mu Yiran could hear that the other’s voice sounded very calm. He glanced at Ke Xun’s face. There was no fear, nervousness or reluctance on his face. The other’s head was pillowed on his hands and he had crossed his legs. He looked like he was lying on that latex mattress bed of his.

When Mu Yiran recalled that bed, he couldn’t help but think about the photos inside Ke Xun’s closet and about the photos that had pictured Ke Xun growing up.

At the time the pictures had been taken, that young boy with curved eyes and a brilliant smile had probably never expected that his life would turn out like this.

He had lost the parents who loved him and his warm home. In the end, he had even lost the chance to lead a normal life.

Time quietly passed. The light reflected off the snowy mountains lit up the sky outside the tent a bit. The shadows of the other tents cast onto their own tent that shook slightly along with the grass as the night wind blew.

If they weren’t in a painting, it would be a peaceful, beautiful night.

Ke Xun’s eyes were open. He stared at the shadows cast on the tent’s walls.

He recalled the sky he had seen outside during the day. It had been disturbingly blue and unfathomably deep. It had been like there had been countless, giant weird things crammed in the deepest part of the blue.

Ke Xun felt like something was off.

During the day, although the sunlight was blinding…he couldn’t recall where the sun had been. The light had come from the sky but it had been everywhere. There hadn’t been a singular source where the light had come from.

If the source of light wasn’t sunlight then… The meadow, blue sky and snowy mountain suddenly seemed like they were covered in a layer of deathly stillness.

Ke Xun recalled his way back from Wei Dong’s tent earlier today. There hadn’t been any stars in the sky—it had simply been an expanse of blackness.

As he thought of this, it suddenly became a bit hard to breathe.

This should be the place where the air was most clear. And yet, he felt stifled and cramped right now. It made him feel claustrophobic.

Ke Xun started to gasp for air uncontrollably. The harder he tried, the less he could breathe. Air filled his nose and mouth but it felt like nothing entered his trachea. His lungs struggled to inflate, trying to obtain oxygen. His chest felt tight and there was a sharp pain. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets.

“Ke Xun!” Mu Yiran had sensed Ke Xun’s abnormality. He leaned over to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

Ke Xun couldn’t speak. He parted his lips, looking like a dying fish gasping for air. However, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t suck in anything.

Mu Yiran frowned. He stared at Ke Xun’s body that was flailing and twisting in pain from the suffocation. He then flipped Ke Xun over and pressed down on him, forcing the other to stop flailing around. He then reached out to cover the other’s mouth and nose.

Ke Xun stared at him. His eyes then curved into a slight arc as he closed them.

Ke Xun thought that he would die.

Nonetheless, he thought that it wasn’t that bad dying at Mu Yiran’s hand. It was still better than dying underneath those ugly monsters’ hands. It was also better than choosing to commit suicide out of cowardice according to the laws of reincarnation and karma or what not. Right, he also owes him for saving his life. Guess he’ll just have to look for the other in his next life. He won’t ask him to pay with his life then. He can pay with his body.

Unexpectedly, as Ke Xun thought about these random things, he was gradually able to breathe again. It felt like his trachea that had been blocked earlier was now cleared. Ke Xun took several breaths through the cracks of Mu Yiran’s fingers and the air went directly into his lungs.

Now that he had access to air, the pain in his lungs gradually improved. His breathing returned to normal and he opened his eyes. Ke Xun’s eyes met Mu Yiran’s gaze.

However, before he could make out the other’s expression, Mu Yiran moved his hand away and sat back up.

Ke Xun carefully took a few small breaths. When he realized that his breathing had returned to normal, he sighed in relief and turned to look at Mu Yiran. “I thought that you were going to help quicken my death so I suffer less.”

Mu Yiran didn’t look at him. He sat cross-legged, his gaze cast towards the ground. “If you want to die a quick death, I can end you in one second.”

Ke Xun sat up, smiling. He touched the place Mu Yiran had clasped his hand over just now. “What was that just now? I suddenly felt suffocated. Was that the painting’s powers?”

Mu Yiran glanced at him, no expression on his face. “You were just suffering from hyperventilation-induced respiratory alkalosis.”

Ke Xun: “Can you explain it in layman terms?”

“You were breathing too quickly and that caused the CO2 levels in your body to drop. As a result, your blood became more alkaline. That made you feel unwell,” Mu Yiran said coldly.

Ke Xun understood what was going on. “That’s why you covered my mouth and nose—to increase the CO2 in my body so that my blood would return to normal acidic levels. Incredible. As expected from my male god.”

Mu Yiran didn’t pay him any more attention. He rested his eyes, legs still crossed. A while later, he suddenly spoke. “What happened to you just now?”

Ke Xun was currently covering his own mouth and nose to let his CO2 levels rise a bit more, causing his voice to be muffled. “I just suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe and panicked. It felt like I was shut into some cramped, narrow box. Like the sky and mountain here were actually just artificial painted objects inside the box. Nothing feels real. Even in the previous painting, the Chinese Scholar trees and the graves had still felt real. But here, everything feels so fake.”

Mu Yiran looked like he had thought of something upon hearing this. He stared at the rug beneath him, seemingly lost in thought.

Ke Xun didn’t bother him. He lied back down and stared up at the shadows on the side of the tent cast by the snow’s reflective light.

Ke Xun then noticed something. At some unknown point in time, the shadows that had been swaying slightly with the wind had suddenly gone still.

Ke Xun gently reached out to touch Mu Yiran’s knee, gesturing to the other to look at what he saw. He had been planning on sitting up but Mu Yiran suddenly pressed down on him. Ke Xun could only stay lying down and stare at the shadows on the tent with him.

The shadows didn’t move an inch. The reflected light of the snow grew increasingly pale. All the sounds around them suddenly disappeared. It was so silent that it felt like they were in a vacuum.

Time passed in this vacuum-like place. Just as Ke Xun’s eyes started to sting from staring at the shadows without blinking, the shadows suddenly changed.

A large, round, pitch-black shadow gradually came down from the sky. It was like a giant, thick drop of paint, slowly falling down from the sky. Midway through its fall, branches slowly extended from the large central mass.

No, those weren’t branches. It was eight arms and two legs. Each limb was thick and fat. They waved in the air, as if doing some convoluted dance. It kind of looked like the movements a crying newborn would do shortly out of their mother’s womb.

This giant shadow continued to twist, its angles and posture odd. Slowly, it continued its descent to the ground. It was like an enormous god with its head up in the sky and its feet on the earth. Its thick, flabby legs took very uncoordinated steps. Suddenly, Ke Xun could hear heavy pants akin to what one would hear from a morbidly obese person overly-exerting themselves.

The giant shadow slowly moved its bent legs around the tents. The top of their tents only reached to the shadow’s knees. The shadow walked at a medium pace and suddenly stopped by each of the tents. It seemed like it was carefully examining and choosing between them.

Ke Xun watched as the immense shadow paused by Wei Dong’s tent for ten minutes. In the end, it walked away and turned towards his direction.

It was currently getting closer and closer to him and Mu Yiran.

Ke Xun didn’t know how they would be able to avoid this thing. There wasn’t anything in this tent to hide themselves with. This time was evidently different from the last painting he had been in. This thing seemed to be choosing its victims at random.

Eve: Here comes the first death. What’s our guesses to how it chooses its victims? Also interesting tidbit I just learned, if you’re like me, you might have heard of the ‘paper bag’ method for treating hyperventilation. Apparently, what Mu Yiran did here is actually better than that because it offers more control. The paper bag method might end up causing hypoventilation.

EB: It must be choosing by handsomeness since it’s going towards the male god. (≖ᴗ≖✿)