Shadow of great britain

In the suburbs of London at night, a bright moon hangs in the sky. Wearing clouds as thin as gossamer, it spreads light to the earth through the gaps in the thick forest.

The lonely church in the woods stands tall, with its Gothic spire as sharp as a sword, as if it wants to pierce the chest of the moon.

At midnight, the night is getting darker, which is when everything falls asleep.

But in the cemetery not far from the church, there was a busy black shadow.

He had a shovel in his hand and a sack on his back.

Shovel after shovel, sweating like rain.

He was grinning and talking to himself as he worked.

"Those two idiots Acheson and Ackerman actually believed me when I said I was going home to visit my relatives.

Without them to share the accounts, this cemetery that has not been robbed would be all mine. The risk of killing is still too high. How can it be better than digging a grave in a stable way?

As long as you can dig up a fresh corpse, it's ten pounds, and you can get half the price for a slightly rotten one. "

The gravedigger straightened up while holding his sore waist. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and then let out a long breath.

He took out the pipe from his pocket and lit it, took a deep puff, then slowly blew out the smoke ring and began to think about the beautiful life in the future.

"If I can earn a few hundred pounds here, I can take a ship to North America, buy a farm there, get a few slaves to work on it, and live a decent life from now on."

There was a dark wind in the forest, and a wisp of cold wind blew through, making the gravedigger shiver.

He lowered his head and glanced at the half-explored grave. He felt a little scared, so he opened the white wax flask hanging on his belt and sprinkled some on the ground.

"Okay, okay, I know I'm sorry for you. But there is nothing I can do. If there are other ways to make money quickly, why would I kill people and steal corpses?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a crisp and melodious music box melody suddenly sounded in the woods.

Accompanied by the sound of the howling wind in the forest, it sounded cold and strange in the quiet environment.

The gravedigger's eyes widened in horror, and his cloudy pupils swayed like the hazy moon in the night.

He saw countless ravens with red eyes standing on the treetops in the forest. They were tilting their heads and looking at the half-rotten corpse that he had put in the sack.

Scarlet saliva secretes from the crow's beak, drop by drop.

All the saliva fell into the soft soil, but it did not penetrate.

Instead, they gathered into a slowly flowing stream.

From the land in the forest, they converge towards the feet of the gravedigger.

The eerie nursery rhyme sounded quietly like a ghost. It sounded far away and yet very close.

A hoarse voice sang along with the melody.

“Who killed the mockingbird?

It's me, said the sparrow,

With my bow and arrows,

I Killed Mockingbird.

Who saw her die?

It's me, said the fly,

With my little eyes,

I saw her die.

Who took her blood?

It's me, said the fish,

Use my little plate,

I take her blood.

Who makes her shroud?

It's me, said the Beetle,

With my needle and thread,

I will make the shroud.

Who will dig her grave?

It's me, said the owl,

With my chisel and shovel,

I will come to dig the grave.

Who will be the pastor?

It's me, said the crow,

Use my little notebook,

I will be the pastor.

Who will be the deacon?

It's me, said Skylark,

If not in darkness,

I will be a deacon.

Who will hold the torch?

It's me, said the Cardinal,

I brought it immediately.

I will hold the torch.

Who will be the officiant?

It's me, said the dove,

I want to mourn my beloved,

I will be the officiant.

Who will carry the coffin?

It's me, said Yuan,

If you don’t walk at night,

I will carry the coffin.

Who will hold the coffin?

It's us, said the Wren,

We, as a couple,

We will come to hold the coffin.

Who will sing the hymns?

It's me, said Thrush,

Standing on the bush,

I will sing hymns.

Who will sound the death knell?

It's me, said the cow,

Because I can pull a yak,

I'll sound the death knell.

So, farewell, robin.

All the birds in the sky,

All sighed and wept,

When they hear the knell,

Ring for the poor robin. "

At this point, the singing suddenly stopped.

The gravedigger's legs became weak and he slumped to the ground, throwing away the tools at hand.

On his face, the light brought by the moonlight was gradually fading away, replaced by shadows that swallowed the light.

He wanted to scream, but found that he could no longer make any sound out of fear.

He was shaking all over and raised his head tremblingly.

At the last moment of his life, he finally saw clearly what kind of object was standing in front of him.

It didn't look like a human being, nor did it look like a God sending down divine punishment.

It was just a majestic figure wearing a crow mask as deep as night, a dark cloak as wide as night, and carrying a milky white coffin behind him.

He gently tied the noose in his hand around the gravedigger's neck, and the eye sockets of the crow mask glowed dark red.

In the silent and cold cemetery, singing sounded again.

""notice"

Inform all concerned,

This notice informs,

Next time, Bird Court,

The sparrow will be judged. "

Only a huffing sound was heard, and the gravedigger's body rose like a flag.

His body hung on the crooked neck tree, swaying like a broken kite.

However, the moonlight was too bright to see clearly the expression on the gravedigger's face. He could only vaguely see a card with a pattern in his pocket.

What was painted on the card was a little bird covered in a brown-green-olive coat. The red feathers on the bird's chest were as red as blood, as if someone had shot through the chest with a bow and arrow.

The name of the bird is marked on the card, robin.

Written as Robin, pronounced as Robin.

…

In the woods, Agares was still thinking about the melodious nursery rhyme just now.

He looked at the flickering red dot beside him, which was Arthur who kept smoking.

The red devil grinned and asked, "So, the sparrow killed the robin?"

Arthur was silent for a while, and he didn't answer.

The red devil smiled and raised his eyebrows and said: "Then the fly killed the robin. After all, the fly knew that the sparrow killed the person, but he concealed it."

Agares waited for a while, but when he saw that Arthur still didn't answer, he asked again.

"Then the fish killed the robin. After all, the fish enjoyed the blood of the robin. He is even more hypocritical than a sparrow..."

At this point, Agares suddenly paused: "Or..."

He picked up the flashing soul ball and pointed it at the moon in the sky. The colorful light shone on Agares' face, making his sharp fangs and malice against the whole world shine extremely brightly.

"It's obvious that everyone participated in Killing Mockingbird, and it's obvious that everyone was an accomplice, but only the sparrow was tried. Arthur, is this the justice you want, the justice you pursue?"

Agares sat next to the milky white coffin. He smiled and rubbed the surface of the coffin, polishing it until it was smooth and translucent.

The devil's whisper rang in Arthur's ears.

"Arthur, silence means, maybe, you killed the mockingbird too?"