White City Murder Expo

After waiting for several days until I brought Butcher home, no one asked about Hunter, which is of course a good thing for me.Butcher returned to school soon after he was discharged from the hospital. On the morning when I sent him back to school, I was so sleepy that I couldn’t open my eyes, and I still told him repeatedly: “Just say you’ve been sick these days. No matter how good a friend you are , and don’t mention cutting your wrists.” He looked at his bandaged wrist and then at me, smiled, and said nothing.Hope he does as I say.

The weather is getting hotter day by day, and our daily life is finally back on track after this ups and downs.It was getting harder and harder to meet Cillian in the town, and I thought he was avoiding me, although there was no basis for such speculation.

Of course, I can't go to the police station to find him. Our relationship has not reached that point, and maybe we are not even friends.Besides, I haven't socialized with others for a long time, and I don't know how to carry on the kind of small talk that doesn't discuss specific things.

But I really want to see him.I sat on the couch and cut my palms. Some people only see red and swollen wounds that ooze blood, but I see healing.There was a faint "I'm getting better" feeling that took solace in me.Closing my eyes, I imagined Cillian gently holding my hand and looking at me with that kind of gentle eyes.

If only he loved me.That way, I can get his attention without hurting myself; presumably, I can get the long-lost happiness.

I know Sirian needs money, will he love me if I give him money?Like Matilda would be willing to take off her clothes if she took the money?Encouraged by this idea, I was eager to try, but a faint voice whispered in my ear: No such thing, Sue Seides, a guy with a ridiculous name.No matter what you wishful thinking, no one will love you because of it, just like no matter how many times you start over, no matter how much you beg, Matilda will leave you without looking back.

At this moment, I suddenly understood where the familiarity Cillian gave me came from.He was really like Matilda, with that wandering, empty stare, and that lazy, undisguised look that didn't care about me.Those things that are destined not to belong to you, but people want to get it desperately.

In any case, I wanted to see him at least one more time.I need a reason, a reason to knock on his door, and I haven't figured out how to do it yet; when I think of it, I'll do it right away.

**

I've been going to Chicago every day lately, going to the pharmacy, then wandering the streets, hiding myself in the crowd, with 180 things on my mind.I invented a time-killing activity, that is, randomly choose one person from so many people, follow that person closely, do nothing, but deliberately let that person notice.

I like the way those people turned their heads in confusion, their eyes wandered, and finally, they met my eyes, and then they turned back immediately, tucking their bags even tighter.When I choose, I follow the principle of randomness. It doesn't matter whether it is a man or a woman, but most of them are outsiders. They don't have the confidence to stop and confront me.Once, I repeated the old trick and followed a black-haired woman, who stopped and walked away from the crowd gradually.As if realizing this, she hesitated in her steps, sprained on the flat ground, and looked back at me in a panic, with pleading eyes.This woman looks a little younger than me, and for some reason, she looks so much like my mother when she huddled in a corner and looked at my father.Her terrified, angry and powerless expression stabbed me, and I felt ashamed as never before, so I turned my head and left without saying a word.Behind me is the sound of footsteps receding away, trotting away.

Then, I met another person on the road, a man.I didn't have the idea of ​​following him, I just followed him aimlessly from a distance, wanting to follow him out, that's all.Shameful sorrow clogged my throat, and my mind was too confused to think of anything else.It wasn't until I followed the man into the alley and his figure had disappeared from sight that I realized that I had been left behind.Just when I turned around and wanted to leave, suddenly, I was shoved hard by someone, and I was thrown against the wall; I was startled, and when I came back to my senses, I was surprised that there was something pressing against my abdomen, and I lowered my head. You can see the reflection of the blade.I raised my head, and the man holding the knife was the man who was walking in front of me just now. Step by step, I was forced to press my back against the wall, and there was no way I could retreat.

My Adam's apple rolled up and down nervously, trying to say something, but I couldn't utter a word.

"Are you a thief, why the fuck have you been following me?" he asked.

"Hey, hey, calm down," I gasped, slowly raising my hands, "I'm sorry."

"You haven't answered my question yet." He stabbed the knife forward another inch, and this time he really put the knife on my lower abdomen. It is terrible to sag with the skin and flesh.I breathed carefully, fearing that the knife would stab me directly due to excessive inhalation. At this moment, I became afraid of death again.

"... yes." I said.I don't even know why I admitted to being a thief, the word just leaked out naturally like this.

He spat in my face, and I closed my eyes tightly without resisting, and said sorry in a trembling voice; the man looked at me with a half-smile and probing eyes, and quickly overturned his statement.

"You're down and out, but you're clean." He moved the knife an inch closer, my back pressed against the wall, and I couldn't avoid it, "The poor people who sleep on the streets are not like you, you should have some money. "

He maintained the posture of holding the knife against me and rummaged through my various pockets. There were only some bills in the jacket pocket; If there is a problem, give it all to him.The man nodded a little, seemed satisfied with the amount, nodded, and put the money in his pocket.

"Kneel down."

he said suddenly.

"...What?" I hesitated for a moment, but did as I did.I slowly knelt on the ground, and the knife he was holding against my stomach moved up and stayed on my neck.I glanced at it quickly, my body trembling uncontrollably.

He stared at me for a while, then put the knife away: "If you are not so sensible, you will die today." After speaking, he turned around to leave, as if he decided to let me go.I breathed a sigh of relief, stood up against the wall, looked at his back going away unhurriedly, hesitated for a moment, and called to him to stop.

"Hey," I said, "do you want me to suck your mouth?"

He paused and turned his head.

"It's free, you can take me to your house," I shrugged pretending to be indifferent, "I have nowhere to go anyway."

He walked towards me so aggressively that I jumped, thinking he was about to hit me, his hand already on the gun; however, the man eventually just stopped in front of me, looked me up and down, and let out a groan. Sneered: "How much are you worth?"

I followed him back to his apartment. The landlord was a very small old man. When he heard the sound of going upstairs, he opened the window and looked out.I looked away just in time, wondering if he saw me clearly.

The man opened the door and let me in first.The room is small in size, backlit, dark and damp, and the lights have to be turned on during the day. Just looking at it makes people feel very unpleasant.I thought I was slovenly enough, but I was appalled at how messy this room was.

I knelt down and sucked him, enduring the smell as I reached down.He probably thought I was going to masturbate, and he didn't have any special reaction, just kept mocking.Then I spat his cock out of my mouth and spit on the ground.

"Hey," he said, "are you afraid I'll beat you?"

At this time, I took out the gun, pulled the safety catch, held the gun at him and pulled the trigger one after another. His body twitched with the sound of the gun, and bounced a total of six times.After the bullet was exhausted, I still mechanically repeated the action of pulling the trigger, click, click, click, click, click.The man's face froze in a look of astonishment, and he gasped after a while; no gun holes could be seen on the dark clothes, he was clutching his chest, his hands were soon stained red, and finally he died without making a sound died.

After a while, footsteps came from outside the corridor, and someone knocked on the door tentatively, three times in a row, followed by three more times after a pause for a few seconds.I didn't answer the door.I don't know what to do, but I'm not scared at all.

I stood by the window, watching the people walking on the street, my eyes began to lose focus, just like I used to stare at the goldfish in the fish tank for a long time.The knock on the door did not ring again, and the footsteps gradually faded away.I stayed at his house until the evening, without thinking about what might be waiting for me at all; I cooked something to eat with the leftover noodles and eggs at his house, and found some brandy in the cabinet, a small bottle with Probably only a quarter left.Feel good after drinking.I went to check on his body twice to confirm that he was dead, and then I sat on his bed, looking up at the dark water marks on the ceiling, until the sky outside the window was dark and there were fewer people on the street. Carried the man down the stairs with the help of a drunkard and back to my car.

"Who is this?"

After opening the trunk, Cillian asked me.

"Thief," I said.

"It's not true."

"Then think of an acceptable answer for yourself."

Cillian looked surprised again.During this period of time, I have already figured out that there are not many tough parts in his character, and he will not strongly express approval or opposition. If I only give him one option, he will obey.I opened the door for him and sat in the passenger seat. Sure enough, he got into the car after hesitating for a moment and started the engine.Suddenly I felt a surge of ecstasy. It was so easy to see Cirium, because I had brought the body.Whether he agrees or not, he will not allow me to block his door with a dead body; no matter how bad it is, I can force him, and I don’t need to do anything to him, just hurt myself.

"Would you regret knowing me?" I asked him jokingly.

After hearing this, he pondered for a while: "It's hard to say." That serious expression made me laugh.

"It's hard to say." I repeated him.

Cillian turned his head and glanced at me: "You are in a good mood today, why?"

"Because it's nice to meet you."

I said.This sentence is true.

Sirian, he follows the breath of the wound like a vulture, he does not eat flesh and blood, he only comes to sow care.Does that make him feel good?Or an act of near redemption?I have no idea.I only know that when facing him, as long as I hold the knife, I have eternal bargaining chips.I was almost in control of him, and the security of knowing that more than offset all the misfortune I had been through for a while.

After driving for a while, I looked at the surrounding scenery, reached into my pocket, and held the pistol: "Where are we going?"

"We can't keep selling bodies to the same hospital, baby," said Cillian wearily. "I'll be suspected of murder."