don't open your eyes [unlimited]

Zhuang Die opened his eyes.

The room was quiet, with melting darkness creeping through the air, and a haunting headache spreading from near his temples.

Zhuang Die sighed, hugged the pillow and rolled from one side of the bed to the other, groping to find the recording pen.

"No dream."

Zhuang Di buried his face in his arms: "Exercise, hot bath, music, aromatherapy, two pills... still can't sleep."

The symptoms of severe insomnia have been haunting him for three months.Zhuang Die went to many hospitals, took turns to take medicine and psychotherapy, and even used a lot of folk remedies, but there was no obvious effect.

Having kept the habit of recording his sleep status with a voice recorder, Zhuang Die relaxed his body again and tried to keep breathing deeply and slowly: "No. 90 for seven days."

Zhuang Die opened his eyes and counted 960 seven sheep in the empty darkness. Finally, he couldn't help but sat up and got out of bed with his slippers on.

"I'm safe, I'm in my bedroom, in my favorite pajamas... 970 two sheep."

“The temperature is suitable and the environment is quiet.”

"This is an environment I am familiar with, 980 sheep."

While recording, Zhuang Die walked to the window and opened the curtains: "Everything is the same as before, nothing has changed. 980 nine sheep, it's still dark, outside the window..."

Zhuang Die: "..."

The view from the window is hard to describe.

Because the window is gone.

Zhuang Die stood facing the blank wall for a few seconds, then turned around and returned to the bed, lay down dignifiedly, and pulled the quilt over his head calmly.

……

A few seconds later, Zhuang Die threw off the quilt and jumped up, turning on the flashlight on the recording pen.

The harsh light soaked the clumsy graffiti on the wall. Zhuang Die was standing in a strange room he had never met before. The blue striped quilt cover was twisted randomly to cover the quilt core, and the edge of the white sheet was a little crumbling.

The cat-head wall clock was shaking mechanically, and the sharp teeth were neatly arranged in the grinning mouth.

When the hourly alarm sounded, the bright red mouth cracked even more, and the cat's eyes, which were originally flashing fluorescent green lights, suddenly burst into a dazzling red light, and a rusty mechanical bird flapped its wings and cried "cuckoo". Fly out.

The wall clock seemed to be extremely dilapidated, and within a few seconds, the head of the mechanical bird suddenly fell off, and Gululu rolled to Zhuang Die's feet.

Zhuang Die quickly counted the last three sheep, grabbed the recording pen, and rushed out the door.

This is not a familiar world.

This judgment is not difficult to come out - not entirely because after coming out of the room, the stairs of this apartment seem to be too complicated to run in a lifetime; There are two blood-red moons hanging.

Zhuang Die gradually slowed down. He carefully controlled the range of his movements to ensure that his voice was soft enough, and then leaned his body close to the wall.

Among all the arguments that can lead to this conclusion, the most important point is that Zhuang Die found that he has become handsome.

Zhuang Die retreated to the bathroom door.

Although he was terrified, Zhuang Die still saw himself flashing past in the mirror when he ran over just now.

Zhuang Die put away the recording pen, and walked into the bathroom lightly.

The lamp tube illuminates the entire washroom brightly enough, and a whole mirror is mounted on the wall, and the aluminum alloy frame has been damaged and rusted.There were puddles of puddles scattered irregularly on the ground, and the faucet was dripping and leaking, and the sound echoed in the empty corridor.

Zhuang Die stood in front of the sink, carefully looking at himself in the mirror.

Really handsome.

Zhuang Die raised his hand, pressed his hair curled up in sleep, and straightened his collar.

Although the atmosphere is so weird that it is highly similar to horror movies, at least for the time being, there have been no more outrageous changes.Consistent with Zhuang Die's movements, the shadow in the mirror is also adjusting his collar, and puts down his hands at the same time as Zhuang Die.

Under the pale light, Zhuang Di admired it carefully for a few seconds, then looked away.

Compared with reality, Zhuang Die's facial features have not changed.It's just that the condition is good enough, there are no wounds and scars, there is no tiredness and dark circles that come with long-term insomnia, and the small curly hair on the head has not completely grown wantonly because of the darkness at home.

If you are not wearing bear pajama bottoms, you can almost get a perfect score.

Zhuang Die grabbed two more wool rolls on top of his head, sighed with a little regret, temporarily diverted his attention away, and returned to his current environment.

The first thing that can be ruled out is the possibility of being kidnapped into a strange building after falling asleep.

This is obviously not an apartment that conforms to the objective laws of reality-the distribution of stairs and rooms is completely arbitrary, and it is impossible to pass the construction project review process and Newton's third law.What's more, the window of the bathroom and the direction of the corridor are opposite, but the two moons can be seen.

"It's an unreal space."

Zhuang Di turned on the recorder again: "Here, there are usually two branches: I am still alive, or I have died suddenly due to insomnia."

"If I'm dead, this may be a transit point for me to a scene set by a religious tradition, or a hallucination caused by the residual electrical signal activity of the cerebral cortex in a dying state."

"I hope that no one will check my online disk and browsing history while helping me sort out my relics."

"Assuming I'm still alive, what I have to do now is to judge the nature of this space and find a way to get out...not right."

Zhuang Die groaned, unconsciously stroking the recording pen with his fingertips: "I should check my mental state and cognitive function first."

"What year is it? What season?"

"What is 93 minus 7? How much is minus 7? What about minus 7?"

"Can I say a set of numbers at a single-digit per second rate? Can I repeat it? Can I remove the repeated numbers?"

……

Zhuang Die raised his hand and pressed the center of his eyebrows.

He had already memorized these scales in full, and he was able to answer them clearly, but there was a paradox that couldn't be ignored from the very beginning.

——In fact, if Zhuang Die is still complete and sober now, he will not have the patience to cooperate with himself to answer these questions at all...

Before he had time to straighten out his thoughts, a burst of hurried and chaotic footsteps suddenly approached from far and near, abruptly interrupting Zhuang Die's thoughts.

There are other people in this space.

The sound of human beings running is easy to distinguish, but it is also mixed with weird rustling, mucus wriggling, harsh noise of some kind of sharp object rubbing against tiles, and then mixed with panic coughing and rough panting, it is so realistic that it is almost weird and frightening. Stick it on the eardrum.

"It doesn't look like a near-death experience."

Zhuang Di felt a little regretful, put away the recording pen that was ready to record the last words, and held his breath against the wall.

Regardless of whether the relationship between neurobiological electrical signals and consciousness is considered, all this is undoubtedly far from revolving door.

With the help of the lighting in the toilet, the scene in the corridor is reflected clearly in the mirror.

The original ordinary corridor is no longer what it used to be. Some kind of dark red huge substance is wriggling and attached to the wall, protruding out tentacles and growing rapidly along the wall, completely sealing one end of the corridor.

The engulfed room was nowhere to be seen, the furniture was engulfed in a mass of dark red, the iron table legs were dragged and rubbed against the ground fiercely, and green juice overflowed from the cracks in the broken tiles in an instant.

The water seems to be extremely corrosive, and as long as it is splashed a little, it will immediately "sizzling" like boiling white foam.

The person who ran at the end suddenly let out a scream and fell heavily to the ground.

His right leg was stained by the splashing green juice, and the liquid burned through his trouser leg almost instantly, and the skin and muscles quickly corroded and melted, leaving a dark and ferocious scorched scar.

That group of huge, bloated dark red objects seemed to be extremely excited by this, while crazily squeezing the wall violently, speeding up the chase, while making a piercing roar.

The middle-aged man who was running in front suddenly turned around and fired his gun at the ground. The bullet crashed into the corner of the wall, and the flying sparks temporarily forced the tentacles of the dark red object.

The bald young man who was following him smashed the liquor bottle in his hand, and the high-concentration liquor spread in all directions, and was ignited by sparks, igniting the ground.

The unlucky man who fell was pulled up with all his hands and feet, and he didn't know when he had a sloppy crutch in his hand, and he limped and struggled to jump over the spreading fire.

The group of monsters finally showed some fear, hesitatingly stopping in front of the red hot flames.

The people being chased finally had time to stop and catch their breath. They had already reached the end of the corridor, supporting each other to barely stand still, coughing and panting in embarrassment.

"Damn it! Didn't you announce that you should watch more healing movies before going to bed?! Who made such a weird broken dream!"

"I can't control such things as having nightmares!"

"Which REM is it? I have to go to work tomorrow morning, so it must be too late to clock in now..."

"Stop talking nonsense! What should we do now? This road is a dead end!"

……

In the bathroom, Zhuang Die put away the recorder.

Until now, he didn't fully understand what happened.But based on what we see now, it is necessary to urgently adjust my overly conservative worldview.

The fire in the corridor was weakening due to the consumption of combustibles. Seeing that the monster was about to squirm and spread again, the bald young man hurriedly smashed a few more bottles of liquor over there, gritted his teeth and wiped his sweat: "It's not the way to burn like this!"

The middle-aged man was calmer than others, and put away the gun in his hand: "I have to find a way to break the ground or ceiling. Has anyone done related work or can provide tools?"

This kind of work obviously has a certain degree of professionalism, and the others looked at each other in blank dismay, and fell silent with concern.

The monster's tentacles had already begun to tentatively crawl along the ceiling, and the corrosive green liquid kept dripping down, leaving one charred black mark after another with white smoke.

There is a solid wall behind everyone, and there is no way to retreat. Some people's spirits have begun to fail, and they slump on the ground trembling and exhausted.

Sweat also dripped from the middle-aged man's forehead. He was about to stand up when someone tugged his sleeves twice.

Zhuang Die looked at the gun in the middle-aged man's hand.

He originally didn't intend to come out of the bathroom, but the monster seemed to devour the rooms it passed by. If he stayed inside, the risk of being swallowed with the room was much higher than that of touching strangers.

Zhuang Die has just ruled out the possibility of holographic games and being captured by aliens—REM is the abbreviation of rapid eye movement sleep, combined with the conversation just now, they are likely to be involved in a dream with some kind of mutation inside.Only by successfully escaping from this nightmare can one return to reality.

Eliminate the doubts that are not eager to be answered, and now there is only one key question left.

Zhuang Die asked: "How did this change?"

The middle-aged man was stunned, and looked at the gun he was holding: "This? This is a creation of thinking. We are now in the subconscious world, and we can use our own stored memories to create creations by imagination, but it must be under reasonable conditions. "

The middle-aged man subconsciously introduced: "You have to concentrate and think of an item you are most familiar with, preferably the first thing that comes to your mind. You must know all the details of it very well—"

The middle-aged man's voice suddenly stopped halfway.

The others were still anxiously discussing and arguing, but now they also quieted down by coincidence, and their eyes fell on the gentle and thin young man who suddenly appeared from the bathroom and was wearing bear pajama bottoms.

The middle-aged man asked cautiously: "Are you..."

"I am an ordinary handicraft lover."

Zhuang Die coughed.

He just tried the method introduced by the middle-aged man, because it was the first time, and he couldn't predict the current situation.

Zhuang Die held the crazily buzzing portable chainsaw, and hid the sharp, glistening edge friendlyly behind his back: "I'm more familiar with some commonly used tools...is it reasonable?"