killer game

The sultry air is winding and impacting over the city, and the thick clouds are accumulating a huge force, covering them like an invisible giant net, pressing every step of the way, adding a touch of depression and anxiety to the already extremely depressed mood.The clouds were overwhelming, the dry wind was blowing, and the air was so dry and hot that people felt uncomfortable all over.

Then, the temperature finally reached a certain critical point, like a gap suddenly bursting in a confined space, a cool breeze finally appeared in the sky, followed by a downpour of rain.The water curtain washes over the heaven and earth layer by layer with a momentum of no hesitation. The sudden change of the sky brings people a kind of depression that is accumulating and thriving.

He stepped into the apartment building with one foot, and the rain curtain fell on his heel with the next foot.Looking back at the vehicles and pedestrians fleeing in a panic on the street, he stood quietly for a while without any feeling of rejoicing.Quiet, as everything was expected, just completed a certain established route, and there was no movement in his eyes.

He shook his coat, which was dry and free from any drops of water, turned around and went upstairs with the milk.The apartment was as usual.It seems that because of the rain today, all kinds of sounds fell into my ears, as if they were blocked from a very distant space, only the dull and blunt impact of the heel on the ground was exceptionally clear.

When he reached the floor of the house, he paused at the stairs and continued walking.There is no usual beating, scolding or noise in the corridor, but it seems a little uncomfortable.His mood was calm as usual, and his steps were neither fast nor slow—until he walked past the house that should have been sealed off, and the hand suddenly reached out and grabbed his coat.

The sudden change made his vigilance rapidly expand to the highest point, the center of gravity of his body was pressed down, and his right hand was instinctively buckled up—the sharp knife in his sleeve had slipped into his palm.He had already calculated all the crisis response ideas in his mind -- when he looked back, only the girl's amber pupils came into view, stained with blood, but still so clear that it made people tremble.

He froze in place.

She huddled under the narrow porch, her body seemed to be quite weak, her breathing and heartbeat were almost inaudible, so that even he didn't notice her existence all the way.The long, soft dark brown hair was stained with mud and dried blood, the lips were bloodless, and the pale as paper complexion set off the already thin face so sharply that it could sting people's eyes.A gunshot wound to his left shoulder, a lot of blood loss, and several large and small wounds all over his body, and he couldn't move like a broken rag doll—but the face that was so rigid and expressionless, and the pair of empty and dead eyes, were always there. Looking at him motionlessly, as if maintaining a certain state of freeze, silent and dazed.

This is a kind of embarrassment that is about to enter the dead zone.

He looked into her eyes, thinking vaguely of the cat that died at his door.The body that was so cold that there was no vitality, those eyes, those pupils that seemed to be filled with a faint light, were obviously still burning one second before, and were annihilated into ashes the next moment.

She just looked at him.Weakly, he looked at him with all his strength.His lips moved, but no sound came out.

He understood.The words spit out from those lips are, "Help me".

Memories overlap with the present moment.He seems to have seen the cat squatting in front of his door on that pouring rain night, begging him to take it home.It's not dead yet, and he won't regret it.

So he bent down slowly, his fingers trembling slightly, wanting to touch whether her existence was real.

The moment her fingertips were about to touch her, those eyes quietly closed—she fell silently at his feet, leaving only that hand, which tightly gripped his clothes, as if grasping his clothes. The last straw in life.

He paused for a moment, then rushed forward to hug her.The brain was in a mess, and the hands were cautious, as if they were holding something fragile.There is a faint snort on the finger - she is not dead yet!

I don't know what feeling is filling my heart at this moment.He felt his hands and lips trembling.After finally breaking away her hand, she saw the wooden box tightly guarded by her other hand.

She put it on her chest, and surrounded it with all her body, so hard that nothing seemed to be able to snatch it away from her side.

Inside were her brother's ashes.

※※※※※※※

It seems like a long, long time... a time of darkness.

And like it was just for a moment.

When Mathilda woke up, she felt that her whole body was falling apart, not a single muscle was still under her control, and even the pain seemed so numb and dull.Her eyelashes moved slightly, and the light fell into the torn eye slits, unable to open like needles.

She didn't know where she was, she just felt very small and closed, but she could smell the fresh air, filled with the fishy dampness after the rain.She felt a little cold, but this coldness seemed to be just a concept, her teeth would not tremble, her hands would not tremble, she just felt cold, an indescribable cold.

In a daze, she heard an indifferent and decadent young voice, intermittently, as if talking about something.There was also a deep, slow voice, echoing only occasionally, with a strange rhythm.Those voices were indistinct, as if everything was floating lightly through the clouds.

"That hand...surgery...follow the rules..."

"I know……"

"Blood transfusion...hand...will die...be careful..."

"..."

One word eye after another word eye, confused with each other, slowly penetrated into the ear, filled the brain, but could not distinguish clearly.Then she heard a "squeak", as if the door was pushed open, or something was kicked over.The footsteps became clearer, and she tried to open her eyes, but it was very difficult.

The footsteps stopped beside her.There was a hand gently stroking her head, a slightly rough big hand with well-defined knuckles, strong and powerful, but the strength was very gentle, when it stroked her hair, it might gently brush her cheeks, even with a touch of tenderness .

She moved her fingers, feeling a little uneasy at being watched like that.The man seemed to know that she was awake, so he took his hand away, but waited patiently.

The consciousness gradually came back, and the pain nerves in the whole body finally woke up. As the eyes gradually opened, she felt the dull pain that was surging and almost wiped out her sanity.All that's left is panic -- no feeling in the left hand.

Not even pain.

"Don't be afraid," said the deep voice that seemed to know what she was afraid of, and seemed to be thinking about which words to use slowly, "It's not abolished...it will be fine..."

He lifted her upper body, put her hands on his shoulders, and carried her on his back.

Her face was pressed against her broad back, her vision was still blurry, but as her eyes rolled, it gradually became clearer.

The room is really small, because it is full of various instruments and sundries everywhere. The place where she was lying just now looked like an operating table. It looked very dark.

When they walked out, the light flooded the sky and covered the sky, making her dark eyes unable to adapt, and they instinctively closed tightly.At that moment, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young man leaning outside the door smoking a cigarette.Wearing a sloppy white coat, his body curled up slightly, his messy hair and beard wrapped his face, with a pair of cloudy blue eyes, full of decadence and vicissitudes.

This is an underground hospital.

She is still alive.