Chapter 1: Under the Bed

Chapter 1: Beneath the Bed

Under the dim, amber glow of the streetlamp, Jeff tossed a cigarette butt, burned nearly down to the filter, onto the ground.

Immediately,

his gaze darted nervously from side to side while, out of habit, he ground the ember into the pavement with the sole of his leather shoe.

"Hiss... damn it..."

Jeff shook his foot violently; he had forgotten that the soles of his shoes were already worn so thin they were practically breathable, and now the bottom of his foot was scorched.

The evening wind swept down the street, laced with a bitter chill, and hardly a pedestrian was left in sight; the few far in the distance hurried along with their heads low, bundled up in hats and scarves.

Jeff turned up the collar of his overcoat, its lapels gleaming with oily stains, yet in this moment, it offered him a sense of security, as if he were hidden and protected.

Ahead lay 128 Mink Street; from number 50 to 200, the road was lined with townhouses, and whether the residents bought or rented, they were likely not tycoons, but at least respectable middle-class.

The house before him belonged to a family of three: the master of the house was a doctor, the mistress a schoolteacher, and they had a seven-year-old son.

During the day, a maid would come to clean and tidy up, but she never stayed the night, returning home as soon as dinner was prepared.

Furthermore, this family shared a routine: every Saturday evening, the whole household would venture out to the theater for a performance.

The front door swung open, and the master of the house, dressed in a sharp black suit, stepped out first to start the car parked at the curb;

moments later, the mistress, elegant in a red dress, emerged holding their child's hand, locked the door, and chatted amiably with the boy as they climbed into her husband's car.

Then,

the vehicle drove away.

Jeff licked his dry lips, quickened his pace, and bounded over the low wooden fence—one too short to deter even a small lapdog—landing in the flowerbed before rushing up the steps to slide a key from his pocket and insert it.

"Click..."

The crisp metallic snap signaled a successful unlock.

Three months ago, while Jeff was still working for a moving company and assisting this very family, the mistress had trustingly handed the keys over to the movers, and Jeff had seized the opportunity to secretly cut a duplicate.

Back then, he had still hesitated over whether to turn to thievery, though he had already lost nearly everything to gambling;

now, there was no room for hesitation, for he was not only destitute but drowned in a sea of debt.

Slipping through the cracked door, Jeff slid inside and swiftly pulled it shut behind him.

"After tonight, you folks will finally understand why you ought to change the locks when you move into a new place."

The first floor featured an open-plan kitchen and dining area, along with a maid's quarters tucked away in the northwest corner.

Jeff headed straight for the second floor, refraining from turning on the house lights and opting instead for the flashlight he had brought, its beam flickering unsteadily.

"Damn it..."

Jeff cursed silently once more, knowing the batteries were dying, but that was solely because he had spent the money intended for replacements on a five-ruble pack of Morf cigarettes.

He struck the flashlight sharply against his elbow a few times, and the beam flared a bit brighter than before.

The second floor housed the couple's master bedroom, a small study, and a washroom;

as for the third floor, being an attic, it served exclusively as the child's bedroom.

Jeff pushed open the master bedroom door, greeted by a large bed and an assortment of quaint, old-fashioned cabinets; he knew the family's valuables would most likely be in this room, though he would still scan the study before leaving.

"Hiss... crackle..."

The friction of electrical static mingled with the hiss of white noise broke the silence.

"Welcome to the Rodge Story Hour, I am your old friend... Alfred. The moonlight tonight is enchanting, and under such a beautiful moon, whatever you do seems to carry a taste of bliss..."

Jeff leaped in fright at the sudden sound, looking down only to realize it was an old-fashioned vacuum-tube radio.

"Damn it, leaving the house and they don't even know how to save on electricity!"

Jeff reached out and clicked the radio off.

Then, he began rummaging through the drawers of the vanity table; generally, the mistress of a house liked to keep her daily jewelry and household cash here, and finding a proper jewelry box next would be ideal.

"Click..."

From the first floor, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the quiet.

Jeff nearly jumped out of his skin.

Immediately following was the sharp click of high heels ascending the stairs, their destination unmistakably the bedroom.

Jeff slammed the drawer back in, cutting the flashlight instantly.

He was a thief, not a robber; stealing and robbing were two entirely different concepts, even carrying vastly different sentences in a court of law.

Most importantly, he utterly lacked the courage to be a robber!

The rhythmic clack of the heels approached rapidly, carrying a hint of urgency.

Jeff had no time to ponder his options; he simply dropped his weight, turned on his side, and rolled beneath the bed.

"Creak..."

Almost simultaneously, the bedroom door was pushed wide.

"Click!"

The overhead lights flared to life.

Performing a makeshift plank beneath the bed, Jeff watched a pair of red high heels stride over to the vanity, where a frantic rustling ensued, followed by the rattle of a small medicine bottle pouring out pills, and finally, the sound of swallowing.

Right after,

came a succession of breathless, relieved sighs.

Jeff saw the woman's high heels pause before the vanity for a long time, and then, she stepped away, the heels shifting across the floor.

"Ring... ring..."

The telephone began to blare.

The high heels moved away from the bed, heading toward the side table beneath the window where the telephone sat.

The woman answered:

"Yes, yes."

"Mm-hmm."

"I had intended to go with them, but my condition flared up suddenly, so I had to come back for my medicine. Let them go tonight, I'll just rest at home."

"It's fine, don't worry. Thank you for asking, I'm quite alright."

The woman hung up the receiver, turned, and walked back toward the bed.

"Thud. Thud."

Stepping on the heels of her shoes to slip them off, the high heels dropped right in front of Jeff's face, so close he could faintly smell the leather.

Then, the mattress groaned above him,

and the woman sank directly onto the bed,

releasing a long, comfortable sigh.

Clearly,

having finished her day at the office, she had slipped away from the domestic orbit of husband and child to finally seize a sliver of solitude; even if exacted by a physical ailment, it must have felt utterly blissful.

Beneath the bed, Jeff began to ponder his next move.

Regret gnawed at him now; he should have masked his face beforehand. Had he known only the woman would return home alone, he could have easily intimidated her with a mask, ordered her to stay still, and then made his escape.

A lone woman, surely, wouldn't have dared to act rashly, and since he hadn't yet managed to steal anything, she might well have preferred to avoid a hassle, perhaps not even bothering to call the police!

Yet, fantasy remained mere fantasy.

Even with the certainty that only a single woman lay on the mattress above, Jeff lacked the courage to crawl out from the shadows and threaten her.

Jeff opened his mouth as wide as he could, drawing in silent, deep breaths to steady his fraying nerves.

Wait until she falls asleep, just wait until she falls asleep,

once she drifts off, and before her husband and child return, he could slip soundlessly from beneath the frame and make a safe exit without alerting a soul.

The woman on the bed was humming a tune, the crisp rustle of turning pages drifting down once more.

Damn it, why aren't you sleeping yet?

Jeff had no idea how long the woman above had been reading, for trapped beneath the bed, he had already lost all perception of the passage of time.

Finally,

"Thud."

Jeff heard the definitive sound of a book snapping shut.

The woman shifted out of bed,

barefoot.

She began to padding toward the bedroom door, exhaling a yawn as she went.

Was she going to take a shower?

A surge of hope flared in Jeff's chest.

While she was in the shower, he could make his getaway!

However,

to Jeff's bitter disappointment, a soft click echoed, and the woman paced right back, accompanied closely by the static hiss of a radio.

"Creak..."

The woman sank back onto the mattress, reclaiming her book.

Soft music began to drift from the speaker, and the woman chimed in with a low hum.

Damn it, is she really going to wait up for her husband and child before she sleeps?

As the song faded to an end,

a man's voice emerged from the radio:

"After a brief interlude, welcome back to the Luojia Story Hour, as we resume our tale. Our protagonist, Catherine, lies in her bed, book in hand, listening to music, thoroughly savoring this fleeting evening leisure;

truth be told, she has always envied other housewives, for to a woman, juggling an outside job while managing household chores and children is an exhausting ordeal."

"Sigh..."

Jeff heard the woman above breathe a soft sigh, evidently struck by the similarity to her own plight.

Yet,

at that exact moment,

the words spilling from the radio

sent a violent shiver down Jeff's spine!

"But what Catherine does not know is that while she lies in bed enjoying this rare peace, there is, in fact, a person lying right now beneath her bed..."

"..." Jeff.

"..." The woman.

The sighing and the rustling of pages above stopped dead.

Halted in unison was the broadcast itself, as if struck by a poor signal or some malfunction inherent to the vintage radio, letting the white noise flood the room once more.

Jeff's heart leapt squarely into his throat; the suffocating, excessive silence of the atmosphere made even breathing feel like an agonizing chore.

"Hehe... Haha..."

From the mattress above,

the woman's laughter drifted down, seemingly an attempt to laugh off her own awkwardness, meant primarily to dispel the oppressive weight of scaring oneself.

Had the circumstances allowed it, Jeff would have gladly chimed in with a sympathetic chuckle:

See, ma'am, don't listen to that fool on the radio, how could there possibly be anyone under your bed!

Yet,

just then,

Jeff watched as a single foot slowly extended downward.

The woman had shifted her body toward the edge of the bed.

Staring at the foot, Jeff slowly clenched his own fists.

He could see that the woman's toes were curled incredibly tight.

The woman seemed desperate to step down and peer beneath the frame, and Jeff knew with absolute clarity what she would see the moment she lowered her gaze...

But,

the woman's foot, having just brushed the floorboards, was slowly drawn back up.

Phew...

Jeff exhaled a long, silent breath in his mind.

Unbeknownst to him, he was already drenched in a cold sweat.

Yet even as he panted, he had to exert absolute control; he loathed this scene, loathed this predicament, and utterly loathed himself for ever deciding to become a thief.

Perhaps

five minutes had passed?

Jeff couldn't tell if it had been five minutes; he wore no watch, and counting seconds beneath a bed was an impossibility.

Suddenly,

Jeff caught sight of a stray lock of hair cascading down from the mattress.

Beneath the bed, Jeff could practically visualize the scene: the woman above was gradually leaning over, intending to peer into the dark void below.

The hair

grew longer, and more abundant,

The outermost strands of hair had already nearly brushed against the floor.

Jeff stared blankly at the sight, utterly clueless as to how he should confront the scene awaiting him.

Should he fall to his knees and beg, pleading with the woman to show mercy and let him leave?

Or should he use the most domineering, threatening tone to silence her, before making his escape?

It seemed... the first option suited him much better.

The hair had now touched the floor;

subsequently, the woman’s forehead slowly drifted into Jeff's field of vision.

Just a little bit lower, a little bit further down,

with only a fraction more,

Jeff would be able to see her eyes,

but that meant she, too, would be able to see him beneath the bed.

Jeff held his breath, the absolute peak of anxiety and tension causing him to forget the very act of breathing as he merely fixated on her descending forehead.

And then,

she stopped her descent.

It seemed she was terrified as well, dreading the possibility of actually seeing someone hiding beneath her bed.

Though she knew perfectly well that a single glance was the best way to dispel her doubts and fears, she simply did not dare to look...

The hair draping onto the floor began to retreat,

the woman's forehead vanished from Jeff's view,

she lay back down upon the mattress,

and she began to gasp heavily for air,

while Jeff finally realized he had been holding his breath for far too long, parting his lips to wordlessly and greedily swallow the air.

His head swam with dizziness, and tears began to well in the corners of his eyes; he wanted to cry, wanted nothing more than to return to the streets this very instant, where even facing the freezing wind, he could sit freely by the flowerbeds, smoking a cigarette and spitting phlegm—spitting loudly, exaggeratedly, and flagrantly without a care for public decency!

He could not tell how much more time passed,

but the bed above fell silent,

she,

must have fallen asleep by now?

Jeff calculated the hours; once the woman’s husband and child returned, he truly wouldn't stand a chance of escaping.

A single woman had already terrified him to this extent; once the man returned, he would likely lose all remnants of his courage.

She was asleep,

so...

should I,

leave?

Jeff began to subtly shift his position; he had been lying prone at an angle under the bed, but now, he carefully flipped over onto his back before starting to slowly wriggle his body, gradually nudging his upper torso out from beneath the frame;

this squirming sensation made Jeff feel exactly like a massive... maggot.

With his left hand pressing against the floor and his right gripping the edge of the bed, various parts of his body began to exert a gentle force, pulling himself out from under the bed inch by inch.

The very first part to emerge

was Jeff’s head.

The reason he had flipped face-up beforehand was that, upon exiting the underside of the bed, Jason wanted to ensure his gaze could continuously track any movement on the mattress above.

For if he had come out face-down and the woman on the bed suddenly let out a shriek behind him,

good god,

Jeff felt he would be driven entirely insane by the fright!

Slinking outward by degrees,

he saw the side of the bed,

he saw one of the woman’s hands dangling over the edge,

nudging outward gently,

he saw the woman’s hair,

she must be asleep, she must be sleeping soundly, surely she was.

Only her sleeping posture was a bit awkward; her husband wasn't home right now, so she really ought to be sleeping right in the middle of the bed!

Continuing to edge outward with extreme caution,

Jeff's frame suddenly froze;

because he noticed there was a distinct drop in the drape of the woman’s hair, an elevation that meant she wasn't lying down... instead, she was leaning over the edge of the bed, and further, her head was raised.

Who keeps their head raised... while sleeping?

Therefore, she must be wide awake right now, staring... staring at the floor just diagonally ahead.

And if he continued to move outward,

it was highly probable that his eyes would meet hers!

In an instant, Jeff felt his scalp go completely numb; he desperately wanted to just cast caution to the wind and pull his entire body out from under the bed, but... but he lacked the courage.

In the end,

overwhelmed by utter despair, he could only slowly crawl back beneath the bed.

By the time his head was once again shielded by the bedboards,

his dangling heart finally settled back into place.

This space beneath the bed offered him an immense sense of security, as if he had returned home.

Just then,

the sound of a car engine echoed from outside, followed by the ignition cutting off.

Immediately after came the sound of the front door opening on the first floor, accompanied by a boy's laughter.

The man and the child had returned.

Yet Jeff did not feel that he was doomed... he even felt a sense of... liberation.

He actually looked forward to being discovered, so he could just bolt out;

or perhaps be pinned down and beaten by the man; or else, be apprehended by the police who would arrive later.

No matter what, even a holding cell in a police station was countless times better than the present nightmare.

A succession of footsteps began to ascend the stairs,

The bedroom door swung open.

Jeff’s face happened to be turned right toward it.

First, he caught sight of a boy’s sneakers—a pricey pair he himself had desperately craved some five or six years ago, back when such shoes could make a young man radiate confidence.

Directly following,

He saw a pair of men’s leather shoes, exquisitely crafted—not with the artificial sheen of fresh polish, but with the pristine elegance of the brand new.

“The performance was truly wonderful tonight.”

“But I got a little sleepy watching it, Daddy.”

“Haha, you’ll understand it better when you’re a bit older. Tell you what, how about Mommy and Daddy take you to the zoo next week?”

“Really!”

“Of course.”

“Mommy, did you hear that? Daddy said he’s taking us to the zoo next week!”

“I heard, I heard. Alright now, George, off to the washroom with you, it’s past your bedtime. Honey, you should take your son to wash up now, and I’ll go turn down George’s bed.”

A pair of red high heels stepped into the room from outside.

Jeff could not help but feel that the atmosphere of this household was profoundly warm; how wonderful it would have been if he, too, had once possessed a home so full of warmth.

“Alright, alright, time to wash up. Let me just adjust the radio, it should be time for the stock market news.”

The man seemed to fiddle with the antenna; the static hiss that had long since melded into the fabric of the night swelled suddenly, then vanished into clarity:

“...That was a lovely bedtime story, wasn’t it? No matter where we are, each of us has a companion by our side, ensuring we are never truly alone.

Now, thank you for tuning in to tonight’s Luo Jia Story Hour. Up next on our station is the stock market news, and I trust you are all about to make your fortunes...”

From the radio,

A strain of light music began to play, serving as a transition between the two programs.

A fortune... heh, a fortune.

Jeff found it utterly laughable; if he hadn’t listened to his friend and sold the house his father left him to buy a stock guaranteed to skyrocket, how could he ever have fallen to such depths?

At this moment,

Of the family of three that had stood by the door, the father had taken his son to the washroom, while the woman had gone to the third floor to make the boy’s bed.

This was his chance—to slip out from beneath the bed right now, dash down the stairs, fling open the door, and bolt outside to safety and freedom!

Jeff resolved himself,

And just as he pressed his palms against the floorboards, preparing to spring up,

Abruptly,

His entire frame

Froze rigid.

An image suddenly flashed through his mind,

And that was how, just moments ago, the woman had walked in from outside, returning home alongside her husband and child; so the woman who had been lying on the bed this whole time—

Who,

Then, was she?

Was she not still lying upon the bed,

And if so, how could the returning family of three possibly have failed to notice her?

“Shh.”

From right behind his head came a faint, whispered breath, bearing a slight chill as it caressed the nape of his neck.

Stunned, Jeff slowly turned his head,

There, sharing the space beneath the bed,

Pressed almost flush against his back,

He first saw a pair of legs, and further down, he saw a face;

No,

He saw only a pair of legs, and the face that rested between them.