Cruel Heart

I noticed that many skeletons were incomplete; single bones like arms, legs, or ribs were scattered around, and the thought of the gruesome scene of dismemberment made even me feel a pang of unease.
The events that took place here back then must have been quite extraordinary, much like the origins of ancient myths. Some events, due to their profound impact or lasting impression, have been distorted through oral transmission by those unaware of the truth. The tragedy that unfolded in this cave must have spread to nearby villages, though the real story remains unknown. However, there was certainly an unusual and ominous message that led to this place being declared off-limits. The more I pondered, the colder I felt down my spine. It has been an unknown number of years since those people died, yet the incident is so bizarre that standing here now, I felt as if I were in a perilous situation. I turned to look at Liang Yingwu, whose face was illuminated by the residual light of the flashlight, showing an expression as grave as mine. “Gather up, we’re getting out of the cave,” he announced. Although it hadn’t been 10 minutes, upon hearing Liang Yingwu’s command, all the boys, including He Yunkai, obediently hurried back to the cave entrance. However, I believe that once they returned to Shanghai, they would boast about their bravery amidst the bones. The girls, on the other hand, had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity; to them, every minute here seemed like a day. Liang Yingwu was cautious, counting heads to ensure all 14 were present, then led the way into the tunnel. After taking a step, he suddenly turned back, saying, “Everyone, hold onto the person in front of you. If anyone falls behind, report it immediately.” His words stirred something in me; it seemed he, too, sensed that this place was more than just a pile of bones. Such an order, if given in normal times, would have been mocked by the boys, but now, there was no objection; everyone reached out with both hands to maintain close contact with those in front and behind. This time, I didn’t walk at the back as I did on the way in; I followed Liang Yingwu. Behind me was Jiang Wei, whose cold, sweaty hand felt slick, clearly indicating she was quite frightened. “Will you report this place when we get out?” I asked Liang Yingwu softly. He knew I wasn’t referring to reporting to the school. “Let’s have the local government send an expedition first. We’ll see if anything turns up,” Liang Yingwu replied somberly. After turning the first bend, everyone quickened their pace, eager to leave the cave’s darkness and return to the sunlight, even though the sun was setting soon. “Ah!” A sharp scream came from behind. Liang Yingwu stopped abruptly, and my heart raced. Several flashlight beams converged on the source of the scream. Liu Wenying’s face was deathly pale, and beside her stood He Yunkai, looking embarrassed. I noticed he was holding a stark white object — an arm bone. “Are you trying to kill me? What’s wrong with you?” Liu Wenying yelled. This was a common prank among boys to scare girls, but here and now, it was inappropriate. “Don’t make such jokes. Drop it,” Liang Yingwu said sternly. He Yunkai complied, dropping the bone with a sulk. After the second bend, we would soon see daylight again. Yes, daylight, that’s what I genuinely thought at that moment, and I believe everyone else did too; the darkness was just too unbearable. Suddenly, I felt Liang Yingwu’s grip on my hand tighten, and his pace slowed noticeably. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “How many bends did we make coming in?” Liang Yingwu asked. “Two,” I said, puzzled, as Liang Yingwu should remember this. “How many bends?” Liang Yingwu stopped again, asking the same question to Jiang Wei behind me. His voice was urgent, and in his voice, I, who knew him well, detected a hint of fear. “Two, didn’t I just say that? We’ve already made two bends. Let’s hurry up; we can talk outside,” Jiang Wei urged, eager to leave. “What did you notice?” I asked Liang Yingwu solemnly. If I guessed right, he must have noticed something very wrong. But he was just walking ahead, seemingly unaffected. Liang Yingwu didn’t answer; he slowly turned his head to look forward, towards the tunnel’s exit. “Oh my God, how is this possible…” Yuan Qiuhong exclaimed. I didn’t need to hear more; the moment she cried out, I knew something was wrong. Light. There was no light. After two bends, the exit should be visible, and it was around four in the afternoon, so there should have been plenty of daylight outside, casting some light into the tunnel. But there wasn’t. Ahead, beyond our flashlights, was pitch black. “Everyone, turn off your flashlights,” Liang Yingwu ordered. In three seconds, the 14 lights were extinguished, plunging us into complete darkness. Absolute darkness. Not a speck of light. Liang Yingwu exhaled heavily, then switched his flashlight back on. “I remember the path was uneven when we came in. Maybe that’s blocking the light?” Yuan Qiuhong suggested. Before Liang Yingwu could respond, I, now realizing the gravity of our situation, said, “You’re right, but after the last bend, we’ve walked nearly twenty meters. Do you think the path is still as uneven as before?” My voice trembled as I spoke. If my intuition was correct, this was no longer the path we came in on. Where did the darkness ahead lead? “Maybe it suddenly rained outside? The weather in Shennongjia can change in an instant. If it’s raining, there wouldn’t be any light,” Zhu Zili offered what was perhaps our last hope. But the path was clearly different now. Did his explanation hold? An eerie silence fell over us, with all the students at a loss for what to do. If the previous bones had planted seeds of fear in our hearts, those seeds had now sprouted, gripping our hearts tightly.
I know how someone who grew up in a scientific environment, believing that everything can be understood and controlled, reacts when they first encounter an inexplicable situation. I’ve experienced it myself, and these students, who are just kids at heart, were at a loss, not to mention Liang Yingwu and I. A dead loop – “Should we go forward or retreat?” I asked Liang Yingwu. “Let’s retreat for now,” he thought for a moment and said. “Retreat?” I hesitated. “Everyone, turn around, let’s go back slowly and shine the flashlights carefully along both sides of the cave walls. We might have taken a wrong turn somewhere,” Liang Yingwu suggested. With that, all the students breathed a sigh of relief. A wrong turn was the only explanation, and I believe they all agreed with Liang Yingwu’s speculation. Perhaps we unknowingly took the wrong path, maybe there was an indistinct fork in the road, or perhaps there were actually two entrances to the Bone Cave, which we missed when we first entered. A fork in the road, this explanation, though seemingly reasonable, was it really possible? Given my understanding of Liang Yingwu, I knew he was an absolutely rational person. Despite years with Organization X, encountering supernatural or events beyond human comprehension, he always approached them with a scientific and rational mindset, which I believe is the attitude of the entire Organization X towards such incidents. With this attitude, no matter what situation we face, there must be meticulous analysis and logical deduction, not overlooking any detail. That’s why Liang Yingwu now suggested retreating to check if we had taken a wrong turn. However, I believe that even though he spoke these words, he harbored less than one in ten thousand hope in what he said. If there was a fork in the tunnel, why didn’t we notice it on the way in or out? How could all fourteen of us make the same mistake? If there were two passages in the Bone Cave, it would be even more implausible, as no one noticed two passages, and the girls hadn’t moved from the entrance where they entered; with such a clear point of reference, how could we be wrong? I was ninety-nine percent sure we were in trouble.