The white light faded.
Shen stood in a hallway. White tiles on the walls. Fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Flickering. On and off. The buzz of electricity filled the air.
The floor was made of colored squares. Red. Yellow. Green. Blue. Each square was about two feet wide. They stretched far ahead into the darkness.
Behind him, the door was gone. Just a smooth white wall.
Ahead, the hallway seemed endless.
"Where are we?" Zhang's voice was high. Shaky. He was only nineteen. His hands were shaking.
"Not the exit," Wang Long said. He rubbed his arm where the paper doll had hit him earlier.
Jiang looked at the floor. "These colors mean something."
Words appeared on the wall. One letter at a time. Like someone was writing from the other side.
"COLOR IS EMOTION. CHOOSE WRONG. DIE."
Liu Mei stepped back. "Great. More rules. Because the dolls weren't enough."
Shen squatted down. He looked at the first square. Green. He pressed it with his hand. Nothing happened. He pushed harder. Still nothing.
"Green feels safe," he said. He stood on it. No trap. No sound.
Jiang joined him. "Try red."
Wang Long didn't wait. He stepped on a red square.
A click. A small arrow shot from the wall. Hit his arm. He grunted. Pulled it out. Blood dripped down his sleeve.
The wall added a line.
"RED = ANGER. DO NOT STOP. RUN."
Wang Long held his arm. "Didn't say that before."
"You went first," Zhou said. He lit a cigarette. The smoke curled up toward the ceiling.
Zhang tried yellow. He stepped on it. Nothing. He stepped again. The floor shook a little. A low rumble. Then stopped.
Wall: "YELLOW = MADNESS. STEP TWICE."
Shen looked at the blue. He stepped on it alone. The floor opened under his feet. A dark hole. He jumped back just in time. His heart pounded, but his face didn't change.
Jiang stepped with him. Both on blue. The floor held. Safe.
Wall: "BLUE = COLD. TWO PEOPLE TOGETHER."
"So we know the rules," Zhou said. "Let's move. We don't have all day."
They walked. Green first. Then yellow, twice. Red they ran. Blue with two.
Slowly. One step at a time. The hallway was quiet except for their footsteps and the buzzing lights.
Wang Long was ahead. He hit a red square. Ran. But he stopped one step too early. His foot lifted before he reached the next safe tile.
A needle shot out from the wall. Small. Thin. Hit his leg just above the ankle.
He fell. Crashed onto the colored floor. His hands scraped the tiles.
"Wang Long!" Liu Mei ran to him.
The needle was already gone. But the skin around the puncture was black. Dark lines spread up his calf like veins of ink.
Jiang knelt. Pulled the needle out from his pant leg. Held it up. "Poison."
"Can you stop it?" Zhou asked.
"No. I don't have medicine. Nothing here."
Wang Long pushed himself up. His face was pale. Sweat on his forehead. "I can still walk."
"Walk, yes. Run, no," Jiang said. She looked at the black lines. "It's moving fast."
He limped forward. "Then we don't run."
The last section of the hallway was the hardest.
The wall showed a sequence. Green. Yellow. Yellow. Blue. Red. Green.
"One by one," Shen said. "In that order. No mistakes."
Jiang went first. Green. Safe.
Zhang stepped on yellow. Once. Then he froze.
"Two steps," Jiang said.
Zhang's hand was shaking. He tried again. Yellow. One step. Then he forgot. He just stood there, staring at the tile.
"Zhang! Two steps!" Jiang yelled.
He looked up. His eyes were wide. Sweat dripped down his face. He stepped again. But his foot slipped. He landed on the edge of the red square next to it.
A blade swung from the wall.
Fast. Silent.
Zhang didn't even scream.
The blade cut across his chest. Deep. From shoulder to ribs. He fell backward. His back hit the floor. Blood spread on his shirt. Red on white.
"Zhang!" Liu Mei ran to him. She dropped to her knees. Pressed her hands on the wound. But it was too deep. Too much blood. Her hands turned red.
Zhang's eyes were wide. His mouth opened. No words came out. Just a small breath. Then nothing.
Jiang checked his neck. Felt for a pulse. Waited. Shook her head.
Liu Mei sat back. Her hands were dripping. "No… no, no, no…"
Wang Long closed his eyes. His jaw tightened.
Zhou turned away. Took a long drag of his cigarette. His hand trembled.
Shen stood over Zhang's body. Said nothing. His face was hard. But his fingers tightened around the bone hook.
The wall changed.
"ONE DEAD. REMAINING: FIVE. COMPLETE THE SEQUENCE."
"We have to finish," Jiang said. Her voice was hard. Cold. "He's gone. We can't bring him back."
Liu Mei stood up. Her hands were shaking. Red stains on her sleeves. "I know."
Shen stepped to the yellow square. Two steps. Safe.
He and Jiang took blue together. Safe.
Wang Long limped to red. He ran. His leg dragged. But he made it.
Liu Mei, arms still burned, hands still bloody, stepped on green. Safe.
The floor shook. The wall at the end cracked open.
Behind it, a door. Small holes on its face. Seven of them. Shaped exactly like the bones they had collected.
Shen took out the seven fragments. One by one. He pushed them into the holes.
Each one clicked into place.
The door opened.
Inside was a round room. The walls were gray stone. No tiles. No lights. But a soft glow came from a stone table in the middle.
On the table, a notebook. Old. Worn. The leather cover was cracked. And next to it, a photo. Black and white. Faded.
The wall behind the table glowed with words.
"WELCOME TO THE HEART OF THE PAPER DOLL FACTORY. THE NEXT DOOR OPENS IN SIX HOURS."
On the other side of the room, a metal door. Rusty. The number "2" was painted on it in white.
Wang Long sat down against the wall. His leg was dark now. The black lines had reached his knee. His breathing was heavy.
Liu Mei held her burned arm. Her hands were still stained with Zhang's blood. She stared at them. Didn't wipe them off.
Jiang walked to the stone table. "Shen. Look."
He picked up the notebook. His father's handwriting. He knew it from old letters.
"First door is only the beginning. I found your mother's bracelet here. She was alive. She left it on purpose. I will find her in the second door. If you read this, don't stop. She is in the Nine Doors somewhere. I know it."
Shen turned the page. A hand-drawn map. Rough. But clear. Marked a place: "Abandoned kitchen. Floating island. Second door."
He put the notebook down. Picked up the photo.
A woman. Young. Smiling. Her hair was dark. Her eyes were bright. On the back, a name: "Lin Wan." And a line: "Wait for me."
His mother.
Shen stared at the photo for a long time. His thumb traced her face.
"She was here," he said. "He found her bracelet."
"Then she might still be alive," Jiang said.
"Maybe."
Zhou lit a new cigarette from the old one. "Six hours until the next door. We should rest. Eat something."
Wang Long coughed. A wet sound. "I won't make the next door."
"Don't say that," Liu Mei said. Her voice cracked.
"Look at my leg." He pulled up his pant leg. The black lines had passed his knee. They were moving up his thigh. "I can feel it. Inside. Eating."
No one spoke.
Shen sat down next to Wang Long. "What do you need?"
Wang Long was quiet for a moment. He looked at the ceiling. Then he reached into his pocket. Took out a small coin. Old. Worn smooth.
"My daughter. Give it to her. Tell her… tell her I didn't leave because I wanted to. Tell her I tried to come back."
Shen took the coin. Put it in his pocket next to the bone fragments. "I will."
"Her name is Mei. She lives in the eastern floating market. Small stall. Sells fish."
"I'll find her."
Wang Long nodded. He closed his eyes.
"Six hours," Zhou said again. "We take turns watching."
"I'll go first," Jiang said.
Shen shook his head. "I will. You rest. All of you."
He sat against the wall. Bone hook across his knees. Eyes on the metal door with the number "2".
Zhang's body lay near the entrance to the round room. No one had moved it. No one had covered it.
Liu Mei sat in the corner. Her hands were finally clean. She had wiped them on her pants. But her eyes were empty.
Jiang lay down on the stone floor. Didn't sleep. Just stared at the ceiling.
Zhou smoked. One cigarette after another.
The lights stayed on. No darkness. No paper dolls.
But somewhere in the walls, Shen could hear them. Moving. Scratching. Stone paper.
Waiting.
Six hours.