Debuted in the C position of the thriller variety show

The turning point of the plot begins.

The recruited model discovered that the painter was a murderer, and there were countless corpses hidden in the small bungalow.

After the truth is revealed, they are about to be hunted down.

Xie Xiaozhou hid in the room, while Lu Lu and Xu Ran ran up the stairs.

Since the crystal lamp in the hall fell to the ground, the whole small bungalow fell into darkness.

Thunder and lightning flashed outside the window, and it seemed that there were strange shadows hiding in every corner, staring coldly at the living people still in this building.

boom--

The door was blown open by the wind and hit the wall, trembling slightly.

Lu Lu was taken aback, and after a start, she quickly covered her lips with her hand, for fear of making a noise that would attract the attention of others.

She looked towards where the sound came from.

The sound of chaotic footsteps approached.

Those corpses crawled out of the mud, with a smell of earth all over their bodies, and stepped on the white and smooth marble tiles crookedly, leaving footprints one after another.

Lu Lu stopped, leaned on the handrail of the stairs, and asked, "What should I do now?"

Xu Ran shrugged his shoulders and said helplessly, "It should be hopeless."

This is a forced plot.

Guests who haven't brushed up the heartbeat value will die, and this cannot be changed.Maybe the only thing you can choose is the difference between ugly and beautiful.

In "Love Heartbeat Connection! "The death in "doesn't hurt the guests, at most it means quitting the filming and returning to the main stage.

However, the pain caused during this death process will not be reduced, so it is better not to die or not to die.

Lu Lu glanced around.

The walls of the bungalows are covered with paintings.

Usually I don't think so, but now that the light suddenly dimmed, those brightly colored oil paintings looked a little strange.

Lu Lu approached one of them.

The painting paper mounted in the picture frame was wet, as if the paint hadn't dried completely, and a little bright red water was scratched off, exuding a bloody smell.

Lu Lu suddenly realized: "These paintings are—"

All painted with blood.

But it's useless to know that now.

Xu Ran walked up, and suddenly thought of a key point: "Where is guest No. 2?"

Lu Lu looked back and saw that Xie Xiaozhou was still with them just now, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

I don't know where to hide.

The expression on Xu Ran's face changed, and he gritted his teeth and said, "Find Xie Xiaozhou, maybe we can still survive."

As long as you can survive, you will always get some heartbeat points in the end.

Lu Lu hurriedly urged: "Then hurry up and find No. 2!"

The two were going to look for Xie Xiaozhou, but before they walked a few steps, they heard a "grunt" clearly, with an ominous meaning,

Xu Ran subconsciously looked into the depths of the corridor on the first floor.

Lightning flashed outside the window.

At that moment, the whole small bungalow was as bright as day.

And at this moment, Xu Ran saw the door in the deep corridor opened, and the thick scarlet blood gushed out like a wave.

The blood was alive, and it climbed up the stairs, reaching its feet in a blink of an eye.

Xu Ran and Lu Lu hurriedly dodged.

But the speed of the blood was very fast, and it rushed up all at once, submerging the two of them.

"Um..."

In the face of death, both of them struggled subconsciously.But no matter how much he resisted, he couldn't break free from the shackles of blood.

In the end, the two completely lost consciousness and fell into a pool of blood.

The bright red liquid surged and receded, returning to the room deep in the corridor, leaving no trace on the ground.

[Two people are dead, this is too fast to get out]

[They haven't brushed up the artist's heart rate, and it's normal to die]

[The number 2 also has 0 heart rate, and should be dying too]

[Where is No. 2 now? 】

Xie Xiaozhou didn't know that the other guests had already died in battle. He was still hiding in the room with his back against the wall, listening carefully to the movement outside the door.

There was the screeching of wind-blown windows; someone's footsteps; and the clatter of something wriggling on the ground.

The most obvious of these was the sound of the wheelchair rolling across the floor.

Xie Xiaozhou silently counted the numbers in his heart, waiting for the painter to come.

Five, four...

The footsteps disappeared together with the wind outside the window, and the small bungalow returned to tranquility.

Two, one...

The sound of the wheelchair rolling also suddenly stopped.

Xie Xiaozhou's eyelashes trembled, inevitably a little nervous.

After a moment of silence.

There was a knock on the thin door behind him.

knock --

Xie Xiaozhou closed his eyes and could imagine the scene outside the door.

The painter was sitting in a wheelchair, with one hand on his knee, his pale and thin fingers bent, and gently knocked on the door.

His face should be cold and weak, his eyes are like glass, staring at everything indifferently.

Thinking of this, Xie Xiaozhou felt a bone-chilling chill rise from behind.

Through a door, he could hear the painter say, "I know you're inside, open the door."

Xie Xiaozhou's lips moved, but still no sound came out.

The painter's fingers lightly tapped on the armrest of the wheelchair, waiting for the boy's response.

But he didn't know what to expect either.

Maybe it's a teenager's breakdown, or maybe it's hysteria.

A flash of light flashed in the painter's eyes, which soon disappeared into a calm.

He tilted his head slightly, his jaw was thin and outlined an arc.

Waited for a while.

The painter heard the boy speak.

The young man may have been overly frightened, and his voice trembled uncontrollably: "Mr. Painter...you, you won't hurt me, will you?"

There was a naive expectation in the words.

At this time, the boy is still innocent, without any doubts.

It's like a deer that was hurt once, forget the pain when the scar is healed, and eagerly want to get closer to the second time.

The painter sighed silently.

But the boy didn't know that the more perfect something is, the more he wants people to destroy and destroy it.

The painter did not answer this question directly, but just repeated again and again: "Open the door."

As soon as the voice fell, he heard the lock cylinder of the door lock slowly turning.

Then with a "click", the door was pushed open a gap.

It can be seen from the gap that the boy is standing behind the door.

Maybe he was frightened, his black hair was messy, and there was a wet redness at the end of his eyes, and the water was shining.

[Really open the door? 】

[If you don’t open the door, there’s nothing you can do. Do you really think that closing the door can stop the painter? 】

【That’s right, it’s better to die and go back sooner, and start the next game sooner~】

Xie Xiaozhou held the doorknob with one hand and looked at the painter sitting in the corridor outside.

The light is hazy.

The painter is still sick and thin, but it seems to be different from before. Now he is a little less fragile and more neurotic.

Does this mean that with the progress of the plot, the painter's personality will also undergo subtle changes?

Xie Xiaozhou glanced over calmly, sniffled, lowered his head, and called softly: "Mr. Painter."

The painter's fingertips landed on the armrest of the wheelchair, and without seeing him move, the wheelchair turned automatically and walked into the room.

Xie Xiaozhou was forced to take a step back and opened the door.

It's just useless even if you retreat.

As soon as he backed away, the painter took a step forward.

Before he knew it, Xie Xiaozhou had no way to retreat, he leaned against the wall, the wall was cold and hard, and his back hurt a little.

Turning his head, there was a window next to him, and a scent of flowers mixed with the smell of blood was blowing from outside, which seemed to be tempting him to run away.

Even if he was prepared in his heart, the painter in front of him was subconsciously frightening, which made Xie Xiaozhou's breathing a little short.

He pinched the tender flesh in his palm with his fingers, and soon came to his senses—in fact, it doesn't matter if he dies, as long as he reaches 100% of the painter's heart rate.

Xie Xiaozhou calmed down, turned around, his black and white eyes reflected the painter's appearance.

The painter watched the boy's every move, and asked indifferently: "Why don't you run?"

This is a question, but there is no questioning tone.

Xie Xiaozhou's eyelashes flickered uncomfortably: "I, I..." He finally mustered up the courage and said what was in his heart, "I don't think Mr. Painter will hurt me."

The young man's feelings are sincere and pure, like a ball of fire, burning and touching everything.

The painter felt as if he had been scalded, his fingertips trembled slightly, and then quickly stopped.

Not even hot.

No amount of fire can melt a glacier.

The painter never experiences emotion, nor does he need to - he is only interested in the perfect work.

The two looked at each other for a moment.

The painter didn't speak, just raised his finger and tapped the ground lightly.

Xie Xiaozhou has been a model twice, so he can somewhat comprehend the meaning of the painter. Seeing this movement, he knelt down and half-kneeled in front of the painter.

After squatting down, the positions of the two of them were completely reversed, and Xie Xiaozhou looked up at the painter.

The painter stretched out his hand, and with this movement, the cuff slipped slightly, revealing his slender wrist.In this posture, his fingertips can easily brush the boy's cheek: "Why do you think so?"

Xie Xiaozhou felt a stabbing pain from the side of his face: "I, I don't know." He looked at the painter in a daze, "Should I be afraid?"

The boy's eyes are beautiful.

Just like a clear lake, it is easy to see through.

The painter's fingers came to the corners of the boy's eyes, and as long as he used force, he could dig out the deer-like eyes.

But he didn't, just simply rubbed back and forth.

"You should be afraid," said the painter, "but you don't have to be afraid."

Hearing this, Xie Xiaozhou's eyes widened slightly, full of shock and doubt: "What do you mean..."

"Literally," said the painter.

The painter just wants to transform the blank paper so that it can be stained with the color he is satisfied with, rather than simply destroying it.

After all, the artist has done this thing too many times, so much that it is a bit boring.Those dirty and flawed things should be destroyed, and this blank paper can be preserved and become the artist's work.

Xie Xiaozhou was not sure: "Why...?"

The painter's fingers touched the boy's eyelashes, and felt the slight trembling of the eyelashes, like a small fan scratching the skin on the fingertips.

He was clearly making an ambiguous gesture, but the words he said were extraordinarily indifferent: "You have too many questions."

[Why did it become like this?Isn't it 0 favorability? 】

[Strange, everyone else is dead, why doesn't he die]

[The artist has already said the above - you have too many questions]

[That's right, can't you just watch the live broadcast? 】

The painter stopped this meaningless conversation, withdrew his fingers and put them on his knees: "Come with me."

After the painter went out, Xie Xiaozhou stood up.

It may be that he has kept this movement for too long, and his legs are a little weak and trembling.He supported his thigh and relieved it a little before he chased after him.

But it was a wrong time.

After Xie Xiaozhou went out, the figure of the painter had already arrived on the first floor, walking towards the depths of the corridor.

Xie Xiaozhou chased after him and supported the painter's wheelchair.

The painter heard hurried footsteps, but he didn't turn his head, motioning him to move on.

Xie Xiaozhou thought that the painter's destination was the studio, so he stopped in front of the penultimate room.

The painter said abruptly: "Not here."

Xie Xiaozhou paused: "Where is that?"

The painter raised his chin and pointed to the door at the deepest part of the corridor.

The door was dark and heavy, with a strange pattern carved on it, as if tempting others to open the door and step in.

Xie Xiaozhou's heart skipped a beat, and when he was about to speak, he saw the painter turned his head and ordered: "Go, open the door."

Xie Xiaozhou couldn't figure out the painter's mind.

He thought for a while and asked, "Isn't it impossible to go in here?"

The painter raised his hand and coughed: "Now, you can go in."

Xie Xiaozhou knew what was behind the door, and once he entered, bad things would happen.It's just that at this time, if you show unwillingness or fear, the painter will see the clues.

He had no choice but to go forward and reached out his hand to touch the door.

Without any effort, the dark and heavy door slowly opened towards both sides.

Xie Xiaozhou stood very close, and the moment he opened it, a strong smell of blood rushed over.

Tick.

A little blood exploded around his feet, staining his toes with blood.

Xie Xiaozhou stepped back in panic: "What, what is this?"

He was afraid of the dark, and because of the darkness, he instinctively wanted to find out.

Behind that door, figures were hung from the ceiling, looking like bacon.

There were scars all over their bodies, and the blood slowly left behind, covering the ground with a layer of blood.

After the door was opened, a gust of wind blew in, causing the nearest body to wobble and turn around.

That face was obviously Xu Ran's.

The painter's fingers curled up to cover the corners of his lips: "What do you think?"

He has always been indifferent, without any extra emotion, but in this sentence, he can feel a strange and evil taste.

Xie Xiaozhou couldn't say a word, he could only watch all this in a daze.

The painter said gently: "Go in."

Only then did Xie Xiaozhou wake up, and refused in a panic: "No, I don't want it."

In fact, this scene can be regarded as trivial to Xie Xiaozhou.

But in order to conform to his "innocence and ignorance" personality, this must be done. Even if there is a change in personality, it still needs a certain opportunity.

Otherwise, it would be considered a collapse.

The painter was unmoved: "I said it, I don't like to say a sentence twice."

Xie Xiaozhou shook his head while walking away from the door.

The painter gave two choices, and his voice was indifferent: "Either go in vertically, or go in horizontally."

This is because Xie Xiaozhou has to make a decision.

Either resist stubbornly, or... obey the painter's order and paint himself in the painter's satisfactory appearance.

How to choose?

According to Xie Xiaozhou's original thinking, it should mean something—resist for a while, and then follow the painter's order.Because only in this way can the painter continue to be interested.

But now, Xie Xiaozhou looked at everything in front of him, and suddenly had a completely different idea.

Now in the eyes of the painter, he is a piece of pure white and flawless white paper, which makes the painter want to paint on it and draw a perfect work.

What about after it becomes a work?

After this question came up, Xie Xiaozhou couldn't help but glance at the oil paintings hanging on the wall.

These are the works of painters.

In the corridors, in the halls, and on the walls of every room, there are unused oil paintings.

Every oil painting is perfect the moment it is drawn.

However, with the passage of time, there will eventually be more satisfactory and more perfect works for the painter.

So is he.

If he chooses to follow the painter's words now and shape himself into the work the painter wants, it will only be one work in the end, and there will always be new works that will replace his existence.

How can a painter be 100% excited about a work?

Xie Xiaozhou had a more interesting and adventurous idea.

He turned his head and looked at the painter, a little tear slid down his cheek.

Painters hate it when people cry.

Those tears were false, useless and even dirty, and they always wanted to achieve something with them—to soften his heart and let them go.

But the tears of teenagers are different.

Clean, crystal clear, brighter than pearls.

Before the painter came back to his senses, he heard his own voice: "You don't want to go in?"

After he finished speaking, he even wondered, did it go too fast?Perhaps he should slow down a bit and sculpt carefully in order to obtain the most perfect work.

Xie Xiaozhou's tears couldn't stop falling, one after another: "I'm afraid."

The painter only touched it for a short moment before returning to his previous appearance: "I will make you no longer afraid."

This is already the artist's biggest concession.

In the past, he would never have said such a thing.

Xie Xiaozhou: "I don't want to..."

The boy had never seen such a scene before, and under the tremendous pressure, he could only choose to escape.

The painter watched his fleeing back, and felt his throat was a little uncomfortable. He lowered his head, covered his lips and coughed uncontrollably.He spread his hand, only to see a bloodstain appearing on the pale palm.

It was painful, but the artist's lips tugged.

Probably because the emotion of "laughing" had never appeared before, and his expression was a little blunt and strange.

nothing.

He'll be back, for sure.

The painter thought firmly.

***

Xie Xiaozhou ran out of the corridor.

But the program team requested that during the seven-day filming time, they could not leave this small bungalow.Therefore, the range of activities of the guests was limited to death, and they couldn't go anywhere if they wanted to run.

After coming to the hall, Xie Xiaozhou saw messy footprints all over the marble floor tiles.As soon as he took two steps, he caught a glimpse of a black shadow rushing from the side.

Xie Xiaozhou subconsciously dodged sideways.

The black shadow couldn't move, so he staggered and fell to the ground, making a "boom".

This movement was not small, and it directly attracted the attention of other black shadows, and they flocked towards this side one after another.

Xie Xiaozhou ran away.

Sombra's movements are slow, but they are superior in numbers.Xie Xiaozhou hid in Tibet, so he could only hide in a cabinet first.

But it will be a matter of time before this place is discovered.

Xie Xiaozhou curled up into a ball, looked out from the gap in the cabinet, and vaguely saw dark shadows moving outside, looking for something.

Xie Xiaozhou closed his eyes, and his shortness of breath due to strenuous exercise gradually calmed down.

He knew it.

If the painter really wanted to kill him, he would have sent out that invisible pool of blood long ago, not with these clumsy dead bodies.

These dead bodies only played a role of intimidation.

The painter wants him to go back on his own initiative, and willingly become a blank paper for him to paint on.

Because of this, Xie Xiaozhou will not go back.

[Where can I hide like this? 】

[The small bungalow is only such a small place, so I definitely can’t escape it]

【If there is no other way, don't waste your time, okay】

Xie Xiaozhou rested in the cabinet for a while, then went out directly.He found a chance to return to the room, and found a lighter from the suitcase.

click-

When he pressed it with his thumb, a cluster of jumping flames appeared from the lighter.

There are countless oil paintings hanging in the painter's small bungalow, and the turpentine used to paint the oil paintings is flammable.

Xie Xiaozhou took off the oil painting in the room and smashed it on the ground.

The glass on the picture frame cracked like a spider web of cracks.

Xie Xiaozhou ignored the finger cut by the glass, took out the oil painting, and put it on the lighter.

The flame licks the corner of the painting.

Soon, it changed from a tiny flame to a raging flame.

In the firelight, Xie Xiaozhou smiled with satisfaction.

Painters are interested in him and want to make him a perfect work.

If you choose to submit, you will always be a work that can be easily replaced; but what if the artist is not allowed to do so?

Xie Xiaozhou let go of his hand.

The oil painting floated in mid-air, fell to the ground, and burned into a mass of ashes.

He took a deep breath, and the room was filled with scorched breath.

Tragedy is always more impressive than a happy ending.

He won't let the painter do what he wants.