foggy morning light (twilight fandom)

Outside the window, the sound of the wind whizzed past, as if someone was crying, longing for a ray of relief.

Leaning against the whitewashed wall, I faintly began to imagine my previous life.The noisy voices in the restaurant, the children playing around after school on the side of the road, and even the dancing aunts and uncles in the square.

The color of the fluorescent lamps is also so pale, matching the atmosphere here, adding a touch of despair.

The beating wounds on my body made it difficult for me to look around.I clenched my fists, the weakness and pain I heard forced me to grit my teeth and concentrate on looking around to see if it was beneficial to me.

There are no windows, and the light is dim, but the wind from the vents is very strong. This is probably a basement or something.

The area that fluorescent lamps can illuminate is limited, and there are still dried blood stains along the road.The wall is connected to the darkness, but those damned black phoenix-tailed butterflies exuding strangely can still be seen clearly.This is the logo of their organization. I tried to turn my body, but my eyes suddenly fell into darkness. This is a characteristic of excessive blood loss. I controlled my breathing slowly and leaned into the darkness.

I heard a low sobbing sound, and then I noticed that there was another person diagonally across from the place covered by the waste wooden box.

My vigilant defense, although not very effective.Oh, yes, she was a freed hostage.I remembered that not long ago I tried my best to pull her out of the cage. The rest of the hostages who were still alive had lost the mentality of resistance. These days of torture made them long to escape, but they were even more afraid of being captured and cruelly treated like livestock. Trafficking to other organizations, God knows what awaits them, organ cutting? □□?Or begging?In short, this is an organizational industry that we have temporarily detected.

In the past six months, I think of the situation that everyone is eager to solve the case. I don’t want to see the elderly parents crying in despair, and the wife who is waiting for her husband to come back and says with tears and smiles that he must still be alive...

"Don't cry, this den has been exposed, I will take you out." My voice was hoarse, and the dead skin on my dry lips turned up. Hiding here is not a long-term solution, but I must calm down now.

She flinched, as if I woke up and frightened her, and after a few seconds, she seemed to want to get an excellent guarantee from me: "You said...you are the police, you will rescue me!"

"Well, I am. I will definitely get you out... get you all out." I smiled wryly, hiding all my expressions in the darkness. I just said this trick, and the already numb hostage didn't have any thoughts. The undercover agents who came here also said the same thing, but they never went out again.

I am a criminal policeman who has just practiced for a year in the serious crime team, but I dare not say this, because I have the responsibility on my shoulders.

I... I can't be afraid.

I looked at the messy place on the right, which was also set off by the darkness, as if there were demons lurking all the time, depressing and expecting, expecting to live.

"Wake up! Chris!" I lay on the desk and turned my head impatiently.

The movement of shaking me to wake up kept reverberating, and I heard Angela's voice again when my clothes were pulled: "Hurry up, the teacher is watching you!"

This sentence woke me up from the dream in an instant, and I quickly regained all my drowsiness, as if the person lying on my stomach just now was an illusion, and I seriously turned the pages of the book under the teacher's sharp eyes.

"On page 40, line 12."

I turned my head down and whispered back: "Thank you."

Angela didn't speak anymore, and when the bell rang for the end of get out of class, I was afraid to go back again.

"Why do you always sleep lately?" Angela pushed her small glasses, and a bright white light flashed there, "Could it be that you and Edward at night..."

I swung my backhand, "No, please don't be silly, I'm just tired in autumn and winter."

In the past half a month, I didn't make much effort to avoid the Victoria storm. I only know that James found Bella and the werewolf Jacob seemed to be involved. Later, James died.My little transparent mentality neither pays attention nor pays attention, but what is really abnormal is that the dream is getting clearer and clearer.

I always feel that there is something right in front of me, I don't seem to have noticed it...