Price Of Wrong Deeds

Chapter 1

Street fights where people suddenly start cutting pieces of their own flesh and sharing it with each other have been reported. To uncover the truth, a group from the newspaper followed clues from the deceased's diary into the depths of a remote and mysterious mountain, White Mountain.

"They ate what they shouldn't have, saw what they shouldn't have, and now they must pay the price."

[1]

A recent news story sparked heated discussions among the public.

On a busy street, at an outdoor food stall, two men pulled out small knives and began cutting pieces of their own flesh to share with each other. In the end, they bled to death, having cut off all their flesh. According to the stall owner, the two men seemed completely normal when they first arrived.

Because their deaths were so horrifying, the police quickly arrived at the scene and removed the bodies to avoid scaring more people. This incident has been widely discussed in society, and some bystanders even recorded the scene. However, any videos uploaded online were quickly taken down.

Upon investigation, it was discovered that one of the men was a scientist and the other a photographer. They had no known connection to each other, except that both had recently joined an expedition deep into White Mountain.

Not long after this incident, another pair of individuals were found on the street, cutting pieces of their flesh to share with each other. The scene was equally gruesome, and no one was willing to describe it in detail. These two also bled to death after cutting off all their flesh.

This time, the individuals were an adventurer and an investor. Like the first pair, their only connection was their participation in the recent White Mountain expedition.

This finally caught the attention of the authorities to the White Mountain expedition. The expedition wasn't a secret and the local tourism department knew about it.

The group consisted of seven people: a writer, a journalist, a scientist, his student, a photographer, an adventurer, and an investor. After returning, everything seemed normal. However, now only three of them remained: a journalist, a writer, and the scientist's student, Brodie.

Brodie had completely disappeared during the expedition, and his fate remained unknown. The police immediately put the remaining two under strict protection to prevent them from following in the footsteps of the others. They appeared completely normal, talking and eating normally. Even professional psychologists couldn't find anything wrong with them.

Specialists were sent to question them about their experiences. However, despite being questioned several times, the two refused to speak about their time in White Mountain, treating it as a taboo. When asked about White Mountain, they spoke only with reverence, calling it a sacred place and saying nothing else.

One day, the two suddenly disappeared from their guarded room. They were later found at an outdoor food stall. The writer had already bled to death, but the journalist, Cayson, who was overweight, still clung to life.

[2]

The last time I saw Cayson was in the hospital. I was there on behalf of the newspaper to visit him. He lay on the bed, extremely weak, struggling to breathe. He opened his eyes to look at me, and I could see that even this small action took all his strength.

Once chubby, his clothes now hung loosely on his skeletal frame. His cheeks were hollow, exposing his teeth, which moved up and down with his labored breathing.

We were good friends and often teamed up to chase stories. I was supposed to go on this expedition. The editor-in-chief got me this chance to join the expedition with prominent figures and gather material for a series of articles. But my father suddenly fell ill, and I had to go back home to take care of him. The assignment was then given to Cayson.

I never thought it would end like this.

He spoke in a barely audible voice, and I could only make out, "They ate what they shouldn't have, saw what they shouldn't have, and now they must pay the price."

When I tried to ask more, he refused to say anything else.

With trembling hands, he put something in my hand. It was a small, stone-like object. I could see he didn't want anyone else to know about it. He only closed his eyes in peace after I put it in my pocket.

That night, the newspaper received a call. Cayson had passed away.

Holding back my grief, I remembered the object Cayson had given me earlier that day. I took it out for a closer look. It wasn't a stone.

It was a piece of bone, carved with intricate patterns that I couldn't make out.

Chapter 2

Just when things seemed to be at a standstill, the writer's family made his diary public. While sorting through his belongings, they found an unremarkable notebook. According to the family, they opened it by chance. Inside, they discovered the diary of the group's expedition to White Mountain. From that moment, their experiences began to surface and became known to the public.

**Writer's Diary:**

Today is our first day entering the mountain. The scenery of White Mountain truly lives up to its reputation. Being far from the city's noise and chaos, I felt an involuntary sense of relaxation. We bypassed the west side to avoid forest rangers and entered the mountain from the south. Aidan, the explorer with us, is knowledgeable and great at communication, always providing explanations at the right moments. Throughout the journey, we followed Aidan and the scientist, Domenic. I wasn't sure of our destination, and it didn't matter to me since I was here to gather material for my writing. Everyone called the scientist Domenic. Domenic spoke very little, and his student, Brodie, was equally reticent. We saw a fawn hiding behind a large tree not far away, watching us with innocent, unspoiled eyes.

**Writer's Diary:**

Today is the fourth day in the mountain. The cold is bone-chilling, and the silence is eerie. I've completely lost my sense of direction; everything is a vast expanse of white. The initial excitement of entering the mountain has worn off, and conversations have dwindled. We spend the entire day traveling. I started to feel that something was off. Domenic seemed to be searching for something. I was puzzled; if he was looking for something, why didn't he report it to his research institute and form a professional team of scientific experts? Or was it that what he was searching for couldn't be known to the authorities? But looking at the others, the photographer was captivated by the mountain scenery, snapping photos non-stop, and the journalist seemed indifferent to our destination. The remaining few seemed to be in the know. Suddenly, it felt like I was the only outsider in the team. I was extremely anxious. During a break, I secretly pulled Aidan aside to ask him. He didn't reveal our destination, only giving me a mysterious smile and assuring me that the trip would be worthwhile. Where exactly were they going?

**Writer's Diary:**

Seventh day in the mountain. We've been traveling non-stop these past few days. The photographer said he was tired and wanted to rest, but the expedition sponsor persuaded him to endure a little longer and not delay the team's progress. He was quite surprised, "Do we have a schedule?" He was indeed clueless. We faced a severe problem: we were running out of food. They probably didn't anticipate staying this long when planning. They hadn't found their target and were reluctant to turn back. It was clear that we had deviated from their initial plan. Occasionally, we saw some wildlife in the forest-deer, roe deer, and so on. Strangely, when we had enough food, we would occasionally encounter them. But now that we were short on food, we couldn't find any. It was also possible that we had reached a place where these animals didn't want to come. They sensed everything. They avoided danger. I was starving. How could a hungry person keep traveling? Finally, I couldn't hold on any longer and fainted on the road. In my unconscious state, I felt a foul-tasting, hot liquid flowing into my mouth and soft food being fed to me. When I woke up, everyone was sitting around the fire. They all looked satisfied. Seeing me awake, they smiled and showed concern, very friendly. I responded on the surface, but inside, I was puzzled. They usually weren't like this, especially Domenic and Brodie. Was it because I had fainted? I approached the fire and smelled an unusual aroma coming from the roasted meat on the rack. It looked like some kind of meat. What was it? Before I could ask, I already had the answer. A wrinkled silver-white snakeskin was placed to the side. "Is this snake meat?" I couldn't help but ask. "Yeah, you fainted from hunger, so we had to find something to eat. We didn't expect to come across this thing in the forest," Cayson said enthusiastically. "This snake was huge, at least five meters long and as thick as a bowl. Thanks to Domenic, you wouldn't think a scholar could be so good at catching snakes with Aidan." He gestured, clearly adding more details to his journal. "We fed you snake blood and meat while you were unconscious." I still felt something was off but couldn't pinpoint it. "There's plenty of snake meat, just in time since we ran out of food. This meat should last us a few days." Right, we had just run out of food, and it felt like someone had planned to provide us with food. I stared blankly at the pile of snakeskin. Then I saw that the snakehead in the middle of the pile seemed to move. No, that wasn't a snakehead. It was a roe deer's head?

Chapter 3

Writer's Diary:

I finally understood what was so bizarre.

It wasn't a snake's head at all; it was a roe deer's head. Yet, no one seemed to find it odd.

It was as if, in their minds, a snake's head naturally looked like a roe deer's head.

I didn't believe it, so I asked Cayson what he saw. Was it a snake's head or a roe deer's head?