The Decaying Dream of America: I Assemble Corpses and Confront Madness

The gun barrel paused for a moment in front of Lin Zheng, but he did not pull the trigger immediately.

The gunman merely tilted his head slightly and waved the long gun in his hand.

"Go ahead, run a little further away."

"Think about what I'm saying."

"Truly understand it before your final end comes."

Lin Zheng's mind was in chaos, and the wound on his right arm was burning with pain. He didn't have time to analyze the other party's intentions.

It was an indescribable psychological game. The hunter did not kill the prey immediately, but instead gave it a chance to escape, just to let the prey experience a deeper level of despair during the escape.

Smith paused for a moment, but his survival instinct made him react instantly.

He shoved Lin Zheng hard, and with the nearly terrified blonde girl in tow, rushed into the depths of the corridor.

Sam followed closely behind, his body trembling slightly with fear.

Lin Zheng staggered a few steps, ignoring the strange gunman behind him, and instinctively followed them, dragging his still bleeding right arm as he sprinted into the unknown area.

Their footsteps were particularly loud in the empty corridor, each step echoing their own rapid heartbeats.

The corridor floor was covered with an old tarpaulin, and the walls on both sides were gray and white, with a few dark wooden doors that were closed occasionally.

A strange smell filled the air, a mixture of the sweat and blood they were carrying as they ran.

The interior of the teaching building is designed like a meticulous maze, with intricate corridors and connecting passages that can easily disorient newcomers.

The university is known for its classical architectural style, but the practical layout inside shows its age and lacks the fluidity and openness of modern architecture.

Lin Zheng used almost all his strength, and blood was still gushing from his right arm. The hot, wet sensation spread from his elbow to his fingertips, making him feel dizzy.

Smith led the way, while Sam supported the girl with one arm and placed the other hand on Lin Zheng's back to help him.

The blonde girl was practically being half-dragged and half-pulled forward by Sam. Her legs were weak, and she was almost entirely relying on inertia and Sam's pulling.

Her eyes were unfocused, her face was covered in tears and snot, and she was making unconscious sobs.

Smith kept glancing back, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed with unease.

He chose the chemical experimental area, just as Lin Zheng had mentioned before.

The complex environment and numerous utensils there might offer them a glimmer of hope.

After they turned a corner, a door appeared in front of them that was marked "Chemistry Laboratory Preparation Room".

This is a fire door, thick and heavy, painted with a grayish-green paint that looks somewhat mottled.

Smith flung open the door, and a pungent chemical smell mixed with a damp, musty odor hit him.

Without thinking twice, they rushed in almost in a rush.

Smith was the last to enter; he slammed the door shut with a dull bang.

The door latch was old and made a clicking sound, which didn't seem to give people much of a sense of security.

The three leaned against the door, panting heavily, their hearts pounding like drums.

The chemistry lab preparation room was smaller and more cluttered than they had expected.

A bare incandescent bulb overhead emitted a dim, yellowish light, enveloping everything in the room in an unreal halo.

In the center of the room was a huge laboratory table, covered with various beakers, test tubes, graduated cylinders, and some unidentified instruments.

The glassware shimmered with a cold, eerie light in the dim light.

Tall metal lockers lined both sides of the wall, their doors tightly closed, with handwritten chemical labels affixed to them.

Toluene, acetone, sulfuric acid, nitric acid, hydrochloric acid, and ether—these names are listed densely, indicating the danger of the items stored inside.

The top of the locker was piled high with discarded cardboard boxes and dusty notebooks, with one or two chemistry formula textbooks lying haphazardly in the corner.

Lin Zheng's gaze swept across the room.

The only way out was through the door they had just rushed through.

Of course, you can also choose another way to die—

He fell to his death.

But now it is an abandoned corner, filled with a depressing and stagnant atmosphere.

They have trapped themselves in a huge trap.

Smith quickly realized this, his face turned deathly pale, and his eyes were filled with despair.

"This...this is a dead end!" The blonde girl finally snapped out of her extreme fear, her voice trembling with sobs, heartbreakingly painful.

Sam pressed his body against the metal cabinet, his eyes fixed on the door, his breathing rapid and heavy.

The air seemed to have been sucked out, leaving only the smell of chemicals and the increasingly rapid breathing of the three people.

Enclosed spaces amplify fear, allowing claustrophobia to spread.

Outside the door, the gunman's footsteps followed at a leisurely pace.

The rhythmic footsteps, heavy and clear, pounded on everyone's heart with each step.

Then, the footsteps stopped.

It's right outside the door.

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

No one spoke, not even daring to breathe too heavily.

They all held their breath, their eardrums taut, awaiting the inevitable verdict.

But the gunman did not fire a shot, nor did he attempt to ram the door.

Instead, there were sounds of "bang, crack, bang".

One sound after another, with the harsh scraping of the axe blade cutting into the wood, a heavy and cruel rhythm, each strike accompanied by the vibration of chopping.

The gunman used a fire axe to fiercely and stubbornly hack at the wooden door, again and again.

With each chop, the old wooden door groaned in pain, emitting creaking sounds and the cracking of breaking wood.

Shocking axe marks soon appeared on the door panel; the gaps of varying depths resembled a demon's ferocious smile in the dim light.

With each fierce chop of the fire axe, new cracks and holes spread outwards, becoming wider and more hollow.

Wood chips burst and flew down like snowflakes, landing on the ground and leaving new marks on the old dust.

A few faint, distorted rays of light pierced through the hole created by the axe.

"Here's Johnny!" the other person said with amusement, referring to a famous scene from The Shining.

Smith clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white from the force.

He stared intently at the widening crack in the door, his lips pressed tightly together, his breathing becoming heavy.

Sam's body was completely leaning against the locker, his eyes wide open and bloodshot.

The blonde girl collapsed to the ground, hugging her knees, burying her face in her arms, her body trembling uncontrollably.

She let out soft, suppressed sobs, which sounded even more heartbreaking than her earlier wailing.

Lin Zheng's right arm had been given basic treatment to stop the bleeding, but fresh blood was still seeping out and slowly flowing down his forearm before dripping onto the floor.

The cold bloodstains spread across the floor, forming irregular dark red spots.

He forced himself to stay awake, but his consciousness began to become blurred and fragmented.

The gunman was clearly toying with them; instead of choosing a more direct and quicker approach, he opted for this slow and torturous method.

This method of breaking down doors with an axe is more demoralizing than any gunshot.

It wasn't a sudden act of violence, but a continuous erosion, each strike eroding their hopes.

"Bang!"

Another deafening roar followed. This time, the fire axe nearly pierced the entire center of the wooden door, revealing an even wider and deeper hole before their eyes.

The barbed pieces of wood shattered and flew everywhere under the enormous impact.

The splintered piece of wood struck Smith squarely on the left cheek.

Smith grunted and instinctively covered his cheek with his hand.

He immediately felt a warm, wet sensation in his palm, with traces of blood seeping out.

Everyone knew that this old wooden door wouldn't last another half a minute.

The shadow of death had never loomed so real and concretely over them.

It was no longer an abstract threat, but the rhythmic, cold thumping sound outside the door.

Each impact pushed them toward an inevitable abyss.

Everyone's hearts sank to the bottom.