Chapter 6 — Footsteps On The Ceiling

"But don't forget, you don't have legs. If anything happens... people will just think you're mentally unstable."

I looked at the door in the dark. Heart beats very fast. But my mind... is getting colder. The call to the police is still ongoing. Right when he started to pry open the door, I silently dialed the call. Screen turned off, placed in buffer slot. I have to buy time. I also have to make him talk more.

“How long have you kept her locked up?” I asked.

"I don't remember clearly. How many days? Twenty days?" he seemed to be really thinking. “Once you no longer see the light, time no longer has any meaning.”

I could almost hear myself grinding my teeth.

“Her sound… did you deliberately lead her to my house?”

“An old house has the advantages of an old house.” he said. "There is a hollow space between the insulation layer and the false ceiling. Wherever you knock, it resonates. Add a small device, set the timer to vibrate, and the downstairs will naturally think that you are causing trouble. People around you are upset, the management is upset, you yourself are afraid... sooner or later you will want to move out."

He spoke slowly, as if showing off his achievements.

“Unfortunately, you are more stubborn than I thought.”

“Why did you leave early today?”

There was silence outside the door for half a second.

“Because she is not good.” he replied. "Dare to put the medicine label out. The patient is really annoying, a little education is not enough."

My head exploded. People in the world do not just exist quietly. She was being beaten, asking for help, every night dragging her almost exhausted body, making noises against my ceiling. I tightened my grip on the paper knife, my voice becoming even calmer:

“You came in… to kill me?”

“Don't say that scary thing.” Chu Thanh sighed softly. "I just want you to cooperate. If you obediently leave, you wouldn't need to know these things."

The lock "clicked" once. He loosened the lock core. I immediately backed away, the wheelchair hit the tea table, making a sound that was neither loud nor soft. The door was pushed open. In the darkness, Chu Thanh stood there, holding a flashlight. The light swept across my face, then lowered to my legs, and finally rose, illuminating my pale fingers.

“Don't be afraid.” he said. “It's not the first time you've been misunderstood.”

That sentence is dirtier than a knife. I looked at him:

“You will pay the price.”

“Who believes you?”

He took a step inside and conveniently closed the door.

“A disabled woman who hears people on earth all day long.” His voice was very light, but cold to the bone. “Do you think people trust you… or trust me, a good neighbor?”

Having finished speaking, he raised the flashlight and pointed it straight at the inspection door on the ceiling.

“Hand over the things.”

I don't move. Because I heard the sound of very light, very urgent footsteps at the end of the hallway. Not death. It's a police officer. But Chu Thanh... still doesn't know. I act a lot like I'm scared. That's not difficult. He was only three steps away from me. The flashlight shined directly on my face, my eyes were sore, and my breathing was already confused. The only difficult thing was, while trembling, to still say the exact words he wanted to hear.

“What you need… is not on me.” I backed away, the wheel scraped against the floor, making a soft sound.

Chu Thanh looked at me like he was looking at prey pretending to be dead.

“Lin Van, my patience is limited.”

“Even if I give it to you… you still won't forgive me.”

“It remains to be seen whether you will be a good girl or not.”

I lowered my eyes and pretended to defend. But the corner of my eye still glanced at the phone under the tea table. The call is still connecting. The longer it lasts Good.

“You lock her up there… sooner or later she will die.” I said softly.

“Murder is a serious crime.”

“Death is a serious sin.” he replied lightly. “Now, at most, it's just a matter of husband and wife.”

There was a very faint sound in the hallway. Like a shoe sole rubbing against a cement floor. Chu Thanh did not hear. All his attention was on me. I raised my head and looked up at the ceiling, intentionally letting my voice tremble:

“She… is in there, right?”

Chu Thanh also looked up after me, the corners of his lips curled slightly.

“That's good.”

“Why choose my house?”

“Because your house is suitable.” he said. "High floor, old structure, easy to handle inspection door. Most importantly, someone like you... if something happens, people won't think there's someone hidden in the house. They'll think... you have a problem."

He slowly approached. The flashlight swept over the wheelchair's armrest, the thin blanket on my lap, past the silver blade revealing a corner, and then stopped on my face.

“You should feel lucky.” he said. “At least at first I didn't intend to drag you in. It's because you're not at peace with yourself.”

I looked at him coldly:

“The previous homeowner… also heard it, right?”

His steps stopped. It seems a bit interesting.

“It turns out you did some investigation.” he said softly. "She's shy, she runs away when she hears crying. But you... are more annoying, you even dare to call the police."

I looked straight at him.

“You took advantage of the resonance of the building's structure early on.”

"Correct." he admitted without hesitation. "There is a hollow space under the insulation layer, which can transmit sound. I just made a few modifications and added a vibrating timer. Footsteps, dragging sounds, even tapping sounds... can all be amplified and directed down to your ceiling. As long as the downstairs complains, everyone's eyes will be on you."

“The police too.”

“Even the police.”