Water lanterns and dreams in 1 nights

Be stubborn.Such a stiff walk loses its own interest, not to mention that the paths themselves are just a lot of the same bare white roads, which further discourages my little desire to go out, so I might as well stay at home.

His concerns are not unfounded.Normal people stay indoors, wanting crazy people to go outside to vent their pent-up cravings.In such an underground, where the government disappears, large-scale destructive activities are prohibited, and public panic is prohibited, people have almost everything allowed.Going out is dangerous.I agree with Allen's approach, it doesn't affect my feeling boring.

Ellen always thought I was prone to depression, I don't think so.My unhappiness has traces, not emotions.I lay face down on the bed, feeling the pressure on my chest, and my breathing began to be difficult, but my body was lazy and unwilling to move. In the eyes of bystanders, maybe I looked like a dead body now.

Allen is cleaning the room. I think he must have a clean freak, but I didn't find this in the setting, which is a bit strange.Every 15 minutes, Alan came to urge me to turn over, or turned me over directly. He was relatively strong, and I didn't have the intention of resisting, so I let him do it.

After he finished cleaning, he even wiped the floor under the legs of the table. I was facing the sky when he came over and knelt by the bed and put his ear to my chest.I asked him what he had heard, and he said I had a perfectly healthy heart, and I could live to see the end of the world if I didn't kill myself.

I laughed a few times and told him I had no intention of living that long.

He leaned on my chest, sighed melancholy, and then spoke in a low voice, telling me as if telling a story: "If you must die, let others die, and don't touch yourself."

It's the first time I've heard him say that.

I stroked his hair from the top of his head to the end of his hair, and my fingers rested on his neck. There was no pulse vibration in the humanoid body, but there was a constant temperature simulating the human body. "In this world," I said, "although there are some distortions, people are doing well. I don't want to kill innocent people. I just want one dead. Maybe two."

Allen closed his eyes and told me like a dream that this place is not as innocent as I thought. "You just can't understand it if you don't see it."

I stroked his emaciated cheek, without saying a word.

"Now you don't watch TV." Allen paused. "I could tell you a story every day."

I was slightly surprised and asked, "What? Have you regrown an imaginative brain? The cultural district is on vacation, and they don't produce stories."

Allen ignored my ridicule, and expressed his willingness to be a TV with no picture temporarily to help me get through the boring confinement.I am so poor and bored that I have no reason to refuse.He's like my Scheherazade except he can't tell a thousand and one stories and I don't want to chop off his head.

Speaking of which, I really haven't tried the taste of beheading.

Also, I wonder what kind of story he can tell.

88. Machine 03

"During the ice season of a certain year, at 12:25 pm on December 42th, at the bar at No. 613 White Bird Avenue." On the first day, Allen said this at the beginning, and even matched the exact time and place to make the story believable. Believe it or not.

"A father came to pick up his daughter home. The daughter was kissing a short boy at the time, and she didn't leave when she saw him. People around her were howling and counting down. When 10 minutes were up, she separated from the boy and wiped her lips. No one answered, and walked towards the father by the door. He lowered his head there, showing no intention of stopping."

"They went home together. She drank for a day, fell on the bed and just wanted to sleep, so her father took off her shoes and socks, covered her with a quilt, and removed her makeup with wet wipes. She stretched her hands above her head, the man Turn off the light for her, close the door, and go to sleep, it was 12:30 at night.

In the middle of the night, she woke up from a dream, her teeth were chattering, she walked into the bathroom without a word, turned the faucet to the maximum, and opened the mirror amidst the sound of running water. Behind it was a narrow storage shelf, her Brushing the fruit knife with his hand, he took out a new one from an open box of razor blades, closed the mirror door, cut three deep vertical slits on the wrist, and put the bleeding wrist under the rapids of running water.

When the man woke up to see her at night, he realized something was wrong, picked up the household medical equipment and rushed into the bathroom.The knife wound healed within 10 minutes. The daughter woke up quickly and lay on the bed with no expression or movement. The man stroked her long hair over and over again, comforting her in a low voice. She was unmoved. The man dared not leave and moved in My own quilt, sleeping on the other side of the bed.The room darkened again. "

"After a few hours, the girl got up from the bed. When her father rushed into the bathroom again, she was sitting in the bathtub with her arms around her knees, her long curly hair hanging down her back, and her whole body was shaking. She rushed to him. Opened his arms, so the father also entered the bathtub, knelt and hugged his daughter from behind, she was trembling and talking, and the father responded to her every word, without a single word of 'death' or 'suicide'. This lasted for a few days In 10 minutes, the daughter handed over the hair rope to her father and asked him to tie her hair. At this time, it was less than an hour before dawn.

The man skillfully combed her long hair with five fingers and tied it into a high ponytail.The girl hugged her knees and asked him where her mother was.

'I have no idea. ' The man said with guilt, 'I should ask her to stay, maybe you mother and daughter can talk better. '

'You know it's not. The girl shook her head, "My mother never liked me since I was a child." '

'That's why you think wrong.She loves you. '

The girl sneered slightly, buried her head in her knees silently, and the man gently patted her shoulder reassuringly.

She asked coldly: 'Daddy, why can't you love Mommy a little more? '

The man denied it, but the girl didn't refute him. She turned around on her knees, looked at her father from head to toe, and said, "We really look alike." '

'Because you are my daughter. '

The girl nodded and began to describe the time for the first time.

'He said I looked like someone he loved.He couldn't get that person forever, and he didn't dare to do excessive things to him, so he broke my wrist and tied it behind my back as a substitute.On the balcony, in the bathroom, in the office, my crying does not exist, he lives in his own dreamland.There, he is with the people he loves. '

Tears rolled down the man's face, listening to those painful days and nights, but no one rescued her.Then she talked about the beautiful skylight in the roof at that time, and her eyes kept looking there, and the pain gradually went away.

'The pain is not so painful, but sometimes my chest is always uncomfortable. 'The girl covered her father's tearful eyes with her hands, asking if he would help her.

The father agreed, and the girl covered his eyes, took out a fruit knife from her clothes, and stabbed him a dozen times in the neck.He broke away from the first two cuts and covered the bleeding wound. My daughter showed no fear,' he said, my eyes are most like yours. '"

"The man may think that when the girl is out of breath, he will be cured, so he endured the pain and did not struggle until he lost his strength. The girl sat in a pool of blood and did not respond until her father died. She lay on top of her father and dialed her hand. He opened the eyelids, inserted a fruit knife into his father's eyes, and gouged out deeply until both eyeballs were plucked out.

She just stood up, clutching both eyeballs, stepped on the bloody water with her bare feet, and almost slipped.She went to the kitchen, threw her two eyeballs into the trash can, took a kitchen knife and walked back to the bathtub. She struggled to put her father in a sitting position against the bathtub, unbuttoned his jacket, exposed his chest, and then used the kitchen knife dissection.Blood spattered her eyes as she turned on the bathtub faucet.

Cut open the fascia layer by layer, disembowel the abdomen, drag out the intestines and wrap them tightly around his neck, so that the two of them are tightly connected.The girl stepped into the bathtub, making the intestines around her neck tighter, curled up in her father's arms, buried her face deep in his abdominal cavity, and did not move.The water hit the bottom of the bathtub, and as the water level rose, the sound gradually became muffled, covering the girl's chin, mouth, nose, eyes, and forehead in sequence, and finally, only her curly black hair floated on the overflowing water. "

"The lights outside the window were brightly lit for a moment, and it was daytime underground, and the white light entered the house, and the faucet squeaked, and bloody footprints ran from the living room to the bathroom, and the whole bathroom was splattered with blood. Water was dripping onto the muddy floor, and the pool was full of blood. The man sat with his neck hanging halfway, and the girl's hair spread out on the water, like a fetus soaked in amniotic fluid. An intestine connected her to her father.

That's the story of the first day. "Alan ends here.

I understood what he was hiding, and asked if he had anything left to say, and Allen said it was for today, "A little bit a day will help keep it fresh."

"Where did you learn these things?"

"When you watched the TV series produced in the cultural district, I also learned a little bit."

It is not difficult to explain why his story is so bloody.Obviously life on the ground is getting boring, and the most popular episodes often have a lot of sensational elements.

"Can I raise some requirements on quality?"

"Please tell me about your great skills," he said humbly, but I felt more like a mockery than a compliment.

"Sometimes I wonder if you did it on purpose."

Allen shrugged and changed his words: "What other improvements do you need from me?"

"More context, I'm not too happy to listen to endless stories."

"As always at your service, sir."

I wanted him to continue, but Alan insisted on continuing the next day.He obviously obeys all my orders, but often does not follow them exactly.