soul probation

【25】

He made a phone call to the landlord.

"What did you say you want to find me?"

Although he was able to move in because of the almost non-existent management system and bottom line here, it is really unreasonable to hide the facts and rent out the haunted house——

At least get a discount on the rent.

The other side faltered and got up, "Ah... well, you only come to stay at night."

"what happened?"

"I want to rent out your daytime space."

"that's it?"

"That's it, you see, aren't you going to school..."

Before the landlord could finish speaking, he interrupted him, "You have something to hide from me."

As soon as he said the words, he felt a little regretful. Even though he was so slow-witted, a worry suddenly appeared in his mind:

What if the landlord is the murderer?

But if he knew how to beat around the bush and win people's hearts, he wouldn't be a real man of the hour.

Thanks to the lamp, he has been awake in the dark for too long, and his sense of smell seems to have gradually become clearer and more sensitive.He smelled an imperceptible strange smell in the air.

"I do have something to hide from you."

The landlord's sudden serious tone made his back tense.

"This... It seems that you don't know." But then his tone weakened again, "Actually, I have rented it out."

His tense nerves circled and turned into a question mark.

"If not, uncle, I'll make it up to you. I still have my children's extracurricular books, so you can just take them and read them. Ah, by the way, there are some fruits..."

He didn't listen to the landlord's greetings——

There is another situation...

"Who are the day tenants? Why only rent during the day?"

"Who else can come to live here? I don't have a place to live. I rent it during the day, it seems like I drive a night taxi."

"Oh." Yan Chen said absently.

The landlord thought he was dissatisfied, and added, "He also has no personal belongings, all his property is in the car, everything is good... that is, he likes to smoke a few puffs... But don't worry, I told him not to smoke in the house , and told him not to touch your things."

"Understood." He hung up the phone with a tired face.

Suicide hurts too much.He touched the wound at the corner of his mouth, fell on the bed, and buried his face in the pillow.

Someone already lived here during the day

The night bus driver works while he sleeps, and sleeps here when he goes to school. The two have never met, and the house is highly utilized.Judging from the landlord's "you don't know" tone, that person seems to have been renting for a long time.It seems that the two never came back early or left late, maintaining a delicate balance——

But he was so careless, why didn't he find any trace?

After all, it's still a bit uncomfortable to share a bed with a middle-aged uncle.

He turned his face up and sniffed carefully.

The greasy smell of smoke didn't come as expected-but a strange, faint smell of medicine lingered.

He froze for a moment.

The reason why smell is a very personal thing is that the sense of smell is affected by different factors such as the olfactory mucosa, rhinitis, genetics, and even the depth of the olfactory area-according to surveys, people with darker skin have a more sensitive sense of smell.Some people like to smell gasoline, some people like to smell the dirt after the rain, some people like to smell the utility room and the basement, and he is a typical drug smell addict. down to close to zero.

This smell is hard to arouse his disgust, perhaps, it is more mysterious and bewitching than the smell of medicinal materials in pharmacies.Even if the smell may come from a greasy uncle.

He sniffed again eagerly.

blinked.

Then he took a big breath—but this time he didn't smell anything, as if he had never appeared before.

The next day, he went to class as usual.After feeling that I had died once, I also became calm in the face of many complex gazes.Everything remains the same, except that the books spread out on the table have become forensics.It's funny to say that what made him give up suicide was not the real love in the world, but an unknown case.

He doesn't want to uphold justice, and he has no scruples about his own safety. Besides, the luminol reagent can only test for the presence of bleeding, and cannot determine the time. Judging from the time the house has existed, it may be a case of the last century. The structure of the house It may have changed several times.But maybe it's because every class seems to him to be boring and scripted, and he is particularly fascinated by these unknown challenges.

It should be a pastime.He turned a page and entered the chapter on bloodstain analysis.

According to the book, each piece of blood contains a lot of information, and different falling speeds and spray directions will leave different shapes. It briefly introduces the origin of several bloodstains.

Dots of blue and white light appeared in his mind, and he roughly presented the bloodstains on the draft paper. After browsing a few typical illustrations, he roughly confirmed that it was blood spattered by breathing.He stared at the scratch paper, lost in thought.

Each bloodstain has a different shape through variables such as direction and speed, so there must be a certain linear relationship or variation among them——

If one could calculate the impact angle and distance based on the length and width of the blood drop, one would be able to know the approximate direction and where the blood came from.But this will be a huge project, and I have neither the tools nor the expertise.

The direction can be roughly judged, but the distance is a problem. The difference in width between a drop of blood falling from one meter and falling from ten meters is very small, not to mention the small gap between small rooms and the interference of direction variables?

He pondered unsuccessfully.

During this time, the deskmate saw the illustrations in his book—the blood stains are already scary for normal middle school students, not to mention the white corpse thighs and brains all over the background.The deskmate was frightened, and because he didn't dare to speak up in class, he frantically rushed to the back table, winked, and shouted silently, mouthing "help".

As an abnormal middle school student, Yanchen glanced at him lightly and decided to change his mind.

The respiratory splatter is spewing blood from the lungs, which means that there is a high probability of fatal injuries, that is, they all come from the same point.

the same point...

general direction...

An idea suddenly appeared in my mind.

If lasers are used to mark the roughly splashing trajectory of all the bloodstains in the air, and let them converge at one point, then this point—isn’t it the source of the bloodstains, that is, the location of the fatal wound?

He looked up abruptly.

The teacher thought he had made a mistake, and was shocked.

The tablemate saw him showing a gratified expression to the bloody picture, which strengthened his determination to change the tablemate.

Besides the bloodstains, he also missed the smell.He has never smelled that smell again in the past few days. The morning is when people's sense of smell is weakest, and the best time is four hours after waking up, but they are still at school.It seems that he could only catch it after he got used to the dark, and he wanted to see the luminol effect again, so he simply left the newly bought light bulb idle.I bought a lot of laser pointers to find the meeting point, but there was no progress. People have adapted to the darkness, but the smell has completely disappeared, as if it was just a consolation conceived out of thin air for him when his spirit was dying.

People are especially paranoid when they lack faith.He deliberately took a nap, and asked for leave four hours later to go back early, wanting to verify whether this person really existed.He knocked on the door of his room, but when there was no answer, he opened the door and walked in - no one was there, maybe the car had already left.The bed was clean and there was no smell.

He sighed.It might really be my own fantasy.

In school, he became a single desk.After being fueled by the same table, the latest material about Yanchen’s psychopathy spread throughout the school, and students from the two factions with different attitudes also reacted. —

Specifically, on this extremely unlucky day, Yanchen avoided the lame leg of the chair, the ink on the face, and finally the large piece of super glue on the back of the chair.After struggling repeatedly for two classes with no results, he just sat there for a whole afternoon.

He waited until after school and everyone had left before he grabbed the chair and tried to take off the clothes from himself, only to find that the glue had seeped through the fibers of the clothes and stuck to the flesh in a large area.I'm afraid someone repainted it while he was sitting upright.While thinking this way, he stood up in a hunched form, moved towards the toilet step by step, and brought the chair into the toilet cubicle in a mess.

He hid there and waited until dark.Then he pulled hard, tearing off a large layer of skin.It took a long time to pull it all clean, during which hot blood kept flowing down the waist, soaking a small piece of pants.

Then he grinned and took off his clothes, and walked back naked.

It was cold at night, but he walked slowly, slowly walking back to the small nest that could contain everything for him.He wiped the frozen snot and wanted to bandage himself, but the wound was between the shoulder blades, and he couldn't reach it anyway, so he simply lay down and waited for it to condense.

I have a cold.He was trembling all over, feeling as if a hole had been drilled into his head, and a pound of iron had been poured into his head.He wanted to cover the quilt, but he was afraid that the wound would be stuck with the fabric, so he had to give up; he picked up his mobile phone and wanted to ask the teacher for tomorrow's leave, but suddenly remembered that there would be an uncle sleeping here tomorrow, and he had nowhere to go.

The outbreak of human collapse is often not because of the despair that crushes people in an instant, but in trivial matters——

After the death of his parents, he didn't shed a single tear, but now he was wronged and cried because he couldn't cover the quilt.

When he realized that they were tears, the corners of his mouth kept curling down, trembling, dripping down drops of tears, from low sobs to soft whimpers, and finally to howls.

I just want to sleep for a while.

I just want to sleep for a while.

Suicide hurts too much.

I just.

I want to sleep for a while.

The wound was painful and tight, his voice gradually lost his strength, and his consciousness gradually became drowsy.

He still compromised with reality, lying on the bed and struggling to pull the quilt to his thin waist, then exited the phone from the dial page, and set an alarm clock for himself with his backhand.

Then had a dream.

It was pitch black in the dream, but it was filled with the mysterious fragrance of medicinal herbs, no longer chasing wind and shadows, but lingering around the body densely, filling the entire nasal cavity.

I also dreamed that my mother turned his body, stabbed his backpack softly, and gently covered him with a quilt.

In the end, while inhaling the fragrance of the medicine deeply, he felt the warmth of the cotton material, and fell asleep happily.

When the alarm clock woke him up, he was still immersed in a sweet dream and couldn't extricate himself from it.He rubbed his eyes and smiled wryly at his wishful thinking, decided to accept the reality, and touched the wound to see if there were any scabs——

As a result, I touched a piece of gauze.

He sat up for a moment.

Picking up the phone, I realized that it was the alarm clock for the next afternoon.

tbc.