The Haunting Photograph

The police hall was suffused with a cold, white light.

Everyone listened in silence as Chen Jinquan recounted the events in his hoarse voice.

A sense of disbelief rippled through the room as Chen Jinquan explained that, no matter where he was, he would invariably lose consciousness precisely at ten every night, only to awaken at home the following morning.

According to Chen Jinquan, he had no recollection of anything that transpired at home.

However, to his colleagues and his neighbor, Old Wang, Chen Jinquan’s behavior outside his residence unmistakably suggested a man deeply in love, even cohabiting with a woman.

Could this be a hypnotic crime? Officer Wang pondered deeply.

Such offenses were not unheard of, though they typically fell under fraud, with hypnosis merely serving as a means to an end.

The motive for these crimes usually revolved around money. Yet, from Chen Jinquan’s account, it was clear the perpetrator wasn’t after wealth. Could their sole intention be to control Chen Jinquan himself?

Officer Wang scrutinized Chen Jinquan, finding the notion improbable.

Chen Jinquan took several ragged breaths, his expression haggard, his mouth parched.

When an officer offered him a cup of hot water, he averted his gaze, afraid to accept it.

“Mr. Chen, is there something in the cup?” Officer Wang inquired.

Chen Jinquan’s throat bobbed. He struggled to swallow the meager saliva from his dry mouth, evidently yearning for a sip of the hot water. However, his terror utterly eclipsed his desire.

After a moment of silence, Chen Jinquan spoke, his voice weak and defeated: “It’s that photograph, the woman in that photograph…”

“The photograph?” Officer Wang pressed, noting Chen Jinquan’s renewed mention of it.

“The same photograph you saw in the forum?”

Chen Jinquan nodded, then shook his head. He continued, “It’s the woman in that photograph, and then…”

His voice began to tremble.

“Later, I also appeared in that photograph.”

Without pausing, he elaborated: “That photograph is on my phone, and I’ve even shown it to my colleagues. But… but all of this happened while I was unconscious. I have no memory of any of it, including the photo itself. It was on April 7th, a rainy day when the roads were slick. I fell, and then, I regained consciousness.”

“After that, as you probably know, I came to report it again.”

One of the officers interjected: “But when you showed us your phone back then, there wasn’t any strange photograph, was there?”

“Yes…” Chen Jinquan admitted, a wave of despair washing over him.

The photograph, it seemed, was alive; it possessed a will of its own.

It could only be seen when it wished to be seen.

This uncanny property was precisely why, when he claimed to have encountered a ghost, the police officers dismissed him as a madman.

With the police no longer trusting him, Chen Jinquan had sought out Taoist priests and Buddhist monks, but regrettably, those individuals were only interested in swindling his money.

His only remaining hope lay with the police. If they were willing to investigate and analyze his case, it would be far better than facing it alone. Finding some crucial clue might still offer him a chance to break free from ‘that thing’s’ control.

He had gradually realized that ‘that thing’s’ hold over him wasn’t constant. He would occasionally regain some awareness, though even then, he remained in a daze, never fully lucid.

True consciousness returned only when he was subjected to external stimuli; the greater the stimulus, the clearer his lucidity.

However, each time he regained his senses, the photograph would manifest—in mirrors, on water surfaces—as if anything capable of reflecting an image became its vessel.

Accompanying the photograph were the echoing, whispered incantations of a woman’s voice.

Initially ethereal and soft, the whispers would progressively grow more shrill and terrifying, slowly eroding Chen Jinquan’s will.

To maintain his conscious mind, Chen Jinquan had resorted to self-harm, using physical pain to stimulate his nerves.

Yet, despite his efforts, he would invariably find himself back home without realizing how, only to suddenly regain partial consciousness at another unpredictable moment.

This cycle repeated endlessly.

For him, it was a dual torment of mind and body. Under such relentless suffering, driven by sheer obsession, he had visited the police station seven times, becoming a familiar face to the officers.

However, each time he had rushed to the police station, he had succumbed to the influence of the photograph and the whispers, arriving in a state of mental confusion, spouting delirious nonsense.

Naturally, the police dismissed the words of a madman.

Fortunately, tonight, despite his initial hysterics, his frantic self-harm, combined with Officer Wang’s decisive slap, finally pulled him back from the brink of collapse.

This time, he could finally articulate his ordeal with clarity and coherence.

Even if most of the officers seemed unconvinced by such a bizarre tale, Chen Jinquan perceived that Officer Wang, at the very least, was listening intently to his words.

This was his sole glimmer of hope.

“Can you describe the content of the photograph you saw?” Officer Wang asked.

True to form, Officer Wang continued to inquire about the relevant details with a grave demeanor.

Hope and excitement flickered in Chen Jinquan’s eyes.

However, as Chen Jinquan attempted to recall the photograph’s contents, a searing pain erupted in his brain, and an icy chill blossomed from the depths of his heart.

He could only conjure a blurry image, certain that he too had inexplicably appeared within the photograph. Instinctive terror then prevented him from delving deeper into his memories.

“Mr. Chen! If you’re struggling, please relax! There’s no need to force yourself to remember right now; we can take our time.”

Observing Chen Jinquan’s anguish, Officer Wang intervened promptly.

“I’m sorry, I really… it’s too difficult…”

Chen Jinquan clutched his forehead, shaking his head in agony, and sighed, “I’m utterly useless.”

“No! Mr. Chen, you are incredibly strong!” Officer Wang countered forcefully. “To endure such bizarre occurrences and still strive to maintain your self-awareness is something many people could never achieve. Therefore, you absolutely must not succumb to negative emotions now; that would be playing right into the perpetrator’s hands!”

Officer Wang placed his hands on Chen Jinquan’s shoulders, his expression earnest as he offered encouragement.

“What you should be doing is summoning that same courage you displayed earlier, the courage to self-harm, to preserve your will and fight against it to the very end!”

Chen Jinquan looked up, his bloodshot eyes slowly regaining some vitality, gazing at Officer Wang with an intensity akin to a lover.

“Ahem, of course, I’m not encouraging self-harm,” Officer Wang quickly added, a slight cough escaping him. “I trust you understand my true meaning?”

He subtly withdrew his hands from Chen Jinquan’s shoulders, creating a discreet distance between them.

Chen Jinquan nodded resolutely.

Someone still believes in him, supports him, and encourages him. With that, he still possesses the courage to fight against ‘that thing’!

“Alright, you two should take him to the hospital first.” Officer Wang instructed.

As the two officers were about to escort Chen Jinquan out, Officer Wang suddenly spoke: “Li Dong, wait a moment.”

Cao Yun departed with Chen Jinquan, while the officer named Li Dong approached Officer Wang.

Officer Wang then stated, “You two will stay with Chen Jinquan at the hospital tonight. At ten o’clock, pay very close attention.”

Li Dong felt a stir of surprise. Old Wang had been a policeman for nearly thirty years; could he truly be buying into Chen Jinquan’s superstitious claims? Was it really a haunting? Even if it were, it wouldn’t be police business; they should be calling a Taoist priest or a master.

Nevertheless, as a subordinate and junior officer, Li Dong raised no objections, simply nodding his agreement.

After Li Dong left, Officer Wang mused for a moment.

He then summoned another officer, and they departed in plain clothes.

He had decided to visit Jinxin Garden Estate, the residential complex where Chen Jinquan lived.

Chuanbei Middle School.

Along a winding campus path, beneath the dim, yellow streetlights spaced every ten meters, a solitary figure advanced slowly.

The path ahead gradually widened, leading to a series of stone steps that ascended tier upon tier. The figure began to climb.

Moments later, the figure reached the final step.

The figure stood still, gazing straight ahead.

Warm yellow light had guided their ascent, but mysteriously, not a single ray illuminated the path before them.

Beholding the old building shrouded in darkness, the figure calmly uttered its name.

“Huai Xiang Yuan.”