My Roommate is a Non-Human | Chapter 34 | The Vanishing and the Void | Novela.app

Chapter 35 - The Vanishing and the Void The silence that followed Ren Xing’s sudden disappearance was heavy, pressing against my eardrums like the weight of deep water. I stared at the empty space on the mattress where a grown man, a police officer no less, had been sitting just a heartbeat ago. There was no puff of smoke, no dramatic flair—just a terrifying, absolute absence. "You... you made him vanish!" I stammered, my finger trembling as I pointed at the void. I turned my gaze to my roommate, who looked as nonchalant as if he had merely swatted a fly. "Where did you put him? Liu Wukong, you can't just delete people from reality!" My roommate didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned in, his presence overwhelming the small space of the bed. He caught my hand, his fingers cool and steady, and pressed a lingering kiss to the tip of my pointing finger. The gesture was so domestic, so deceptively human, that it sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the sheer absurdity of my life. "One night," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to echo in my very bones. "Just us. Sleep now. Be good." "How can I sleep when you’ve turned a public servant into thin air?" I hissed, though my resolve was melting under the intensity of his gaze. "And don't you dare start something... not on this bed... Hey! Stop that! Tsk... turn off the light at least!" The room plunged into darkness before I could even finish the sentence. But it wasn't the natural darkness of a room at night; it felt thicker, more viscous, as if the shadows themselves were reaching out to cradle us. I felt the shift in the air, the sudden, predatory grace in his movements. "Wait! Don't turn into one of those... those strange things again!" I cried out, my voice muffled against the pillow as he moved over me. The sheer speed of his transformation, the way he could bridge the gap between man and monster in the blink of an eye, was dizzying. "I swear, Liu Wukong, why are you so fast?! You’re only a 'real man' for five seconds, aren't you? Is that your limit?" My jab at his stamina was met with a low, dangerous chuckle that vibrated through the mattress. He didn't dignify the insult with a retort, but the "punishment" that followed ensured I wouldn't be thinking about Ren Xing—or my own sanity—for the rest of the night. When morning finally broke, it didn't bring the usual peaceful chirping of birds or the distant sound of students heading to early lectures. Instead, the air was thick with a cold, clinging fog that tasted of ozone and old copper. I woke up alone in the bed, the sheets cold, with a lingering sense of dread pooling in my stomach. The campus was in an uproar. Even before I reached the central plaza, the wail of sirens cut through the morning mist like a jagged blade. Something had happened at the Humanities Building. I hurried toward the site, my heart hammering against my ribs. The area was already cordoned off with yellow tape, the bright plastic flickering like a warning flame against the grey stone of the architecture. Police cars and ambulances were parked haphazardly, their lights strobing in a rhythmic, nauseating pulse of red and blue. The air near the building felt different—thinner, as if the reality of the place had been stretched to its breaking point. There was a faint, high-pitched ringing in my ears that grew louder the closer I got. It was the sound of a world screaming in a frequency humans weren't meant to hear. I pushed through the gathering crowd of pale-faced students and faculty. Everyone was whispering, their voices a frantic cacophony of rumors and half-formed fears. "Did you see the flash?" "It was like the sun fell into the lobby..." "I heard they're not even breathing..." I ignored them, my eyes searching the chaos for a familiar face. That was when I saw the first stretchers being wheeled out of the main entrance. The sight stopped the breath in my lungs. The victims weren't just injured; they looked as though they had been hollowed out, their expressions frozen in a mask of absolute, blinding terror. The weight of the night's events and the morning's horror collided in my mind. I looked back toward the dorms, wondering where Liu Wukong was, and what role he—or the things he hunted—had played in this unfolding nightmare.