Rubik's Cube Seven Days Dream

Depend on!How could he have forgotten that this clown is made of cotton wicks!

Xu Minglang fumbled for the glass in his pocket in a hurry, but the damn cotton coat was too long, and the pocket was being pressed under his buttocks, so he couldn't reach in. He lifted his chest slightly, and then just watched helplessly. Watching himself clown overturned to the ground.His mind was so confused, but his hands were thrown in his pockets to touch, and in the next second his world was turned upside down.

Everything happened so fast, Xu Minglang saw his head rushing down, and the broken glass also slipped out of his pocket. He heard a crisp sound, and his heart sank.

Xu Minglang was being lifted by a man whose height was close to 180, and he was being slammed against the mirror on the side.

Crashing——the sound of the mirror shattering exploded in his ears one after another, the pain on the back of his head was as sharp as metal, and the pain was as dense as raindrops, hitting him non-stop. This process only lasted less than half a minute, but he was drowsy The consciousness is already declaring that the body is overloaded.

The passage of time was infinitely extended, and he watched the blood-stained glass shards splash in front of his eyes, as if staring at a mosquito flapping its wings slowly. The feeling of warm liquid flowing on his forehead was so vivid that it made him itchy.

He wanted to stretch out his hand to scratch it, but found that his limbs did not listen to his movements, and even his eyelids seemed to be glued together...

His world began to chaos.

Zhou Xuerong stood on the teacup table, looked up and saw the clown not far away, like playing with a rag doll, throwing the person in his hand out.Zhou Xuerong stared at the young man lying in the broken glass, a spine nailed him in place as if frozen, the shock and sadness in his eyes were fleeting, and turned into a deeper feeling. emotions, or despair.

The clown ran quickly towards him with a terrifying smile on his face.

Zhou Xuerong turned a deaf ear to it, the broken hair on his forehead blocked his sight, so that he didn't see the ax diagonally ahead, but walked straight forward.Seeing the perfect timing, the clown took out the steak knife and stabbed at Zhou Xuerong's throat. The movement was so fast that it was almost impossible to catch him.The clown did not retract the knife, but let the knife roll between his five fingers like a juggler, adjusted to a suitable angle, and stabbed towards Zhou Xuerong's chest.

Zhou Xuerong is still keeping his body leaning back at this moment. Ordinary people have no possibility of dodging such an attack, because if they lean back any more, they will fall on the rails, and the self-protection of the brain does not allow the body to do this. The speed of the chest is too fast to think...

Suddenly, the young man tightly held the clown's knife-holding hand with his left hand, and pressed all his body weight on the left hand, and then slammed it inward, hoping to release the knife.

The clown let out a dry laugh.

How could the cotton-wicked torso be afraid of the pain caused by squeezing.

So Zhou Xuerong suddenly pulled his wrist towards him, and fell hard on the rails together with the clown.He clasped the clown's hands tightly with both hands, and was riding on the clown's neck without any defense.

The clown shook off the steak knife, opened his hands free, pressed and approached Zhou Xuerong's neck little by little.The anger made Zhou Xuerong burst out with astonishing strength. He pinched the clown's hands inwardly, but the clown didn't get the upper hand.Seeing this, the clown bared his ferocious teeth. In order to increase the pressure on his hands, he raised his chest and concentrated his body weight on both hands.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" Zhou Xuerong turned his head away, and let out an unbearable roar. Apart from the physical pain reaching its limit, there was also extreme unwillingness.

Unwilling to die humiliated and humble, unwilling to end without words, unwilling to have the opportunity to confess everything......

Unwilling to not even see the last side of Brother Lang, it just ended like this...

He still remembered the first time the two met, the day after the woman died.

It was terribly cold that day, but the sun was so bright that he could hardly keep his eyes open due to the light.It was the first time he was so far away from home, the northern winter wind cut his face like a knife, and his scalp was so cold that he had no hair to protect him.

"My name is Xu Minglang. I'm 12 years old. I'm in the first grade of junior high school. What's your name?"

Very immature voice, thicker than his, tongue twisted when speaking, a little weird, but he didn't hate it.

He stood under the stone steps, trying to open his eyes to see the boy standing above.

"I...I don't have a name."

"Nonsense, everyone has a name, I told you my name, now it's your turn, hurry up."

"I really do not know."

A girl's voice came from the yard, as if beckoning the boy to hurry over.

The boy was young, and his patience was quickly exhausted. He waved his hand and said, "If you don't want to say it, forget it, I'm leaving."

Although it was just a one-sided meeting at the time, it was the first time that Zhou Xuerong talked to other children. The impatience made him feel familiar and even more frightening...

But no matter how anxious he was, he didn't dare to step into other people's yards, so he had to stay where he was, speaking loudly for the first time in his life.

"Don't go, brother, don't go...I will have a name...I asked my grandpa to name me, please don't leave me!"

The boy turned his head, seemed to smile, and waved to Zhou Xuerong, as if he wanted to beckon him to walk into the courtyard washed by the sun with him.

......

...

On the dark and cold railway tracks, Zhou Xuerong felt that the light was right in front of his eyes, but he stayed where he was, getting colder and colder.

Those laughing voices, those warmth that melted on his skin, as long as he let go of his resistance and stepped forward, he could easily get it.

"Don't leave me... Lango..."

Zhou Xuerong's eyes were all gray, and he was talking to himself almost inaudibly. He was sweating all over his body, as if he had been fished out of the water. His arms were convulsing violently, but even so, the survival instinct was the last line of defense. Stick to the soft and deadly neck.

The clown seems to enjoy this process very much. His smiling face is distorted and relaxed, and he deliberately leans close to the painful face below him so that he can appreciate the pain at close range.

Zhou Xuerong closed his eyes. He didn't want to escape this kind of humiliation, but he really didn't want to. The last thing he saw before he died was such a face.

Veins burst out on his forehead, holding his breath for a long time caused the pressure in his chest to increase sharply, and his brain popped up some fragmented images like a revolving lantern, like a malfunctioning TV series.

His body is still struggling, but his mind is imagining the warm summer sun.The fluffy blanket on the bed sheet that was scented by the sun was curled up, and he only needed to lift a corner to see the sleeping face of the person he loved the most.

It's a pity he couldn't wait for this day.

The clown slowly opened Zhou Xuerong's arm, and pressed down little by little, injecting Ling Chi's pain on the young man.

"Uh... um..." Zhou Xuerong blushed, closed her eyes tightly, trying to smooth the cruelty of reality with illusions.

The clown seemed to have seen some interesting performance, his hands were unrelenting, and he laughed like a duck. His hoarse voice echoed in the mirror room, resembling a haunted house.

The laughter covered the crisp sound of the glass behind him, and the bloodied young man stood up unsteadily and moved slowly towards the source of the sound.

"Uh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!"

Zhou Xuerong endured the ghost screams in his ears, and compared with the pressure on his neck, the feeling of fullness in his brain that was gradually lacking in oxygen was more obvious.

"Yihahaha..."

"Ugh..." Zhou Xuerong's arms were spread wide, and the clown's fingertips felt cold and sticky on his neck.

The clown's eyes suddenly changed, his smile faded away, leaving only the desire to kill.

The ten fingers were as sharp and powerful as eagle hooks, instantly closing Zhou Xuerong's valve.

Without any strength to escape, Zhou Xuerong forced himself to close his eyes, pretending that he was bathed in the warm light...

There was a "click", like a split watermelon, with a crisp sound.

The laughter stopped suddenly.

The pressure and pain above the neck disappeared instantly, and an unknown pink liquid sprayed Zhou Xuerong's face. He was coughing out of breath, ignoring the filth and just sucking in the air greedily.The lack of oxygen in his brain made his thinking much slower than usual, and then he heard a voice.

"......Are you OK?"

The young man standing limply with the ax hanging down was none other than Xu Minglang.

Zhou Xuerong thought he had come to the underworld, he was stunned for a moment, and his voice was hoarse: "Brother Lang?"

Half of Xu Minglang's head was covered with blood, the left side of his face was swollen and bruised, and his body was even more ugly. He blinked instead of answering.Zhou Xuerong's expression was a little silly, he hecked twice, the tears mixed with the dust on his eyelashes, making his eyes sore and sore, laughing and crying at the same time, he looked like a fool anyway.But he still felt relieved, as if something came alive in his heart, his legs were numb but he struggled to get up.

Xu Minglang wanted to say something, but probably because he had no strength, he moved his mouth but didn't make a sound.

With a sound of "clang", the ax fell off the rails, and Xu Minglang's body was about to fall down. Zhou Xuerong couldn't lift his hands at all, so he could only arch forward with the strength of his waist and abdomen, and use his chest to hold him back before Xu Minglang grabbed the ground with his head. stopped his head.

"Brother... what's wrong with you?!"

Xu Minglang frowned, and said "it's okay" from his pale and chapped lips. His whole headache was about to explode. He couldn't tell if he had a concussion, but the swelling feeling under his scalp made him sure that there must be something wrong under his hair. Few wounds, perhaps accompanied by broken glass stubble.

Looking at Zhou Xuerong again, it is not much better. How mighty he was before, he is even more embarrassed now, but his eyes are still radiant. If Xu Minglang hadn't known that this guy was a weirdo, he would have thought it was someone with a broken head. Not himself but Zhou Xuerong.

One of the two was bleeding, the other was so weak that he almost went into shock, and the whole one was weak, sick and disabled.Worse still was the headless body lying on the side, the lav collar on it was stained with pink liquid, but it could still be seen intact.

The last clown has yet to appear.

In the dark night, snow piled up outside the mirror room, enough to cover the calf of an adult.The sculptures on both sides of the door are illuminated by the street lamps overhead, and there is a sense of solemnity.

The drenched clown, with a face of dizzy oil paint, and two eyeballs on his red nose seemed to be shaking from side to side, like a mental patient.As he walked, he rummaged in his pocket for something, and after a while he took out a deck of cards and threw them away.I took it out again, and it turned out to be a piece of chewing gum, so I threw it away again.

He impatiently turned both pockets upside down, and a pile of odds and ends fell to the ground. He squatted down and searched, and finally found a pistol that looked like a small toy.The pocket pistol was painted a girly pink, and the barrel was only as long as a child's index finger. It looked like a toy gun for Barbie dolls.

The clown gritted his teeth, putting more nervousness on his decadent and grim face covered with oil paint.

He lowered his head, fiddled with the pile of things, then put his index finger and middle finger together, and pinched a metal block with a frosted texture.

A brass bullet.

The clown picked up one bullet, and another, a total of seven bullets, and filled them all into the barrel of the gun.After completing this series of actions, he stood up and walked to the depths of the mirror room.