Doomsday Wonderland

Two Thousand Three Hundred and Nine: The Image Letter Left to Lin Sanjiu (6)

Chapter 2315 The image letter left to Lin Sanjiu (6)

If you listened carefully to my story, you might think I made a mistake.

"No killing" is the most important rule for my adoptive mother; and "No eating meat unless in desperate situations" is another rule - as I said, the latter is the first rule I break.

I'm not wrong.

That evening, the sun was gradually setting in the west. My shadow stretched, crawled over the second-floor wall panels that fell into the yard, and was swallowed up by the broken bricks and grass. The door of the home where I have lived for twenty years miraculously stood upright among the remains of a broken body. There was also a rattan basket placed by my adoptive mother at the door, filled with pine cones I picked up when I was in fourth grade.

"It's kind of simple and beautiful, isn't it?" After she put the rattan basket away, she said to me, "You are very good at discovering beauty."

My adoptive mother had changed out of her muddy shoes in front of this door, trimmed the branches and leaves of potted flowers while squatting, hung garlands on the door, and dropped heavy shopping bags. In the summer she often pulled out a chair and sat here reading.

Now behind this door, the adoptive mother, who has mutilated limbs and is suffering from illness, is using all her strength to suck in a trace of air into her chest.

I don't know how she could still struggle to speak in such pain.

"Really, I'm the only one living here," her voice was hoarse, and every word was difficult to say. If my hearing had not evolved, I might not be able to distinguish her words from her moans. "You can do whatever you want. I don't have much to live for anymore, so I don't care anymore. However, except for me, there is really no one else here..."

Strange footsteps stopped on the wooden floor of my house.

"Shut up," a voice commanded nonchalantly. It was as if what the adoptive mother had just spoken was not a language that humans could understand, but just animal sounds.

"Is this your son in the photo?" Another voice said, "You are a cripple and cannot survive on your own. When will your son come home?"

I didn't hear my foster mother's response because I was quietly walking to the other side of the house. In the barrier formed by the collapsed wall of my neighbor's house, there is a hole in the wall of my house. Next to it are broken building materials, bricks and stones scattered all over the ground, and weeds half as tall as a person... It's hard to call people out. Discover.

It wasn't until I squatted down outside the hole in the wall that I realized that I had passed through so many things without making a sound - not even a rustling sound that I could catch myself.

I peered into the living room.

Because of the angle, I didn't see my adoptive mother at first. Two strangers were standing in our living room, with the sofa blocking their lower bodies. They were standing on one side, one on the left, and the other on the right, with a large space in between. Their eyes were looking at the door, and then at me. The unseen empty space.

...I don’t want to talk anymore.

I hope you can understand me. I didn't mean to whet your appetite.

Death is not scary to me, and I don’t have anything that I must hold on to and that is worthy of nostalgia; but when I think of the scene after I died, when I first met my adoptive mother in the orphanage, she held on tightly. I feel a little regretful that the strength with which I held my wrist and the life we ​​spent together will disappear forever and no one will know about it anymore.

I want to tell you so you can remember this story for me. You will understand the ending I arranged for myself through your hands.

For the first twenty-five years of my life, the world I knew was my adoptive mother.

The war ended two worlds, theirs and mine.

Have you heard of this evolutionary ability? Several "fetal eggs" can be produced from the fallen species that are hunted. By planting these "fetal eggs" into human bodies, you can use artificial nutrients to give birth to several domesticated fallen species that will obey your orders.

This ability does not distinguish between men and women, old or young. As long as the object is a human being, it can be used as a petri dish for fallen species; of course, the old and the weak cannot carry as many "fetal eggs" for nurturing, and they are definitely not as strong as young people. The effect is good.

When I say this, you should understand.

Ironic?

The adoptive mother who decided to adopt in an orphanage because she was infertile ended her life by being regarded as a womb that gave birth to degenerate species.

I didn't know at the time that the other two were evolvers from the outside world. I thought that my plans and weapons, my familiarity with the terrain at home, and my newly evolved physical abilities were enough to enable me to successfully knock them down... Looking back now, my weakness and arrogance at that time are really shocking. People are surprised.

I thought I was going in to save my adoptive mother, but in the end it was my adoptive mother who saved me again.

At that time, she was almost the same as a piece of breathing flesh; including me, no one paid much attention to her - I just thought that the time had come, after I killed the two people in front of me, I The adoptive mother's life must also be ended.

It was this kind of adoptive mother who somehow found the strength to save me at the critical moment.

Hey, I obviously stopped talking, but I couldn't help but start talking.

All in all, after that day, my old world ended. I was thrown into a chaotic, huge new world with no one to tell me what to do.

I held her broken body and kept saying, Mom, I still have many questions to ask you; I still have many things that I am not sure about.

Is what I did in the hospital against the rules?

The old world order has collapsed. Where are the new borders?

Mom, where are you going?

The foster mother said nothing. The last thing she left to me before she died was her thumb, which touched my hand gently - as light as a bird's feathers sweeping, as lightly as eyelashes closing not far away. Light, as light as a breath of dissipated breath - and then it fell.

This is the first time since I came to my adoptive mother that she failed to finish something from beginning to end; this thing comforts me.

I sat beside her in a daze, and I clearly remember a moment when I was thinking, was the human suffering I had seen and enjoyed close to the feelings I felt in my heart at this time? How close?

Will this change me?

I will never know the answer to that last question, because when I looked up, I saw that those two men were still breathing.

Let me briefly tell you how I broke the first rule. There will be more to come later, so I won’t go into details.

There are a lot of good things in them, at least in my opinion at the time. With the help of my abilities, I learned almost without a teacher how to find and use special items, and how to make use of all the resources around me.

"I have long wanted to get rid of the burden that has been controlling me."

I said, placing a hot pot in front of the man who regained consciousness.

"The person with the ability has been killed by me. But you are just a thug. I don't think the crime is worthy of death, not to mention you helped me get rid of my adoptive mother. After we finish this dinner, I will let go you go."

Of course he didn't dare to eat it.

"Where is the body of my companion?" he asked cautiously.

"You don't have to worry about that." I said, "Meat is rare, and I won't waste it by poisoning you."

He stared at me without blinking; I didn't do any tricks. I just took two bowls of meat from the same pot and placed one bowl in front of him and one bowl in front of myself.

"My beef stew is a must-have," I forked a piece of meat and popped it into my mouth. "My adoptive mother said the same thing."

Hunger, aroma, and peace of mind are all good appetizers; the man whose name I have forgotten, after watching me finish a bowl of stew, finally couldn't hold it back and ate his own bowl in big gulps. empty.

Of course he knew that he might be eating human flesh.

He just didn't know whose human flesh he was eating.

"Is it delicious?" I asked kindly. After getting an affirmative answer, I said, "Then why don't you look down?"

Do you remember the painkiller I found?

I fed him so much while he was still awake that I was surprised he didn't die of an overdose.

I was very careful when I started. He had suffered a lot of injuries, and even if he took painkillers, the discomfort would still be unbearable. I picked up the thick fleshy areas like thighs, arms, and lower back, cut them flat and carefully, and cut out many strips. , and gave him a good hemostatic (cauterizing) bandage.

When he lowered his head, I sat on the other side of the table, folded my hands, and closed my eyes. Just like a symphony concert, only by immersing yourself in it can you enjoy waves of more intense pleasure and capture the subtle and subtle changes in the huge syllables.

Thanks to the healing items on them, I enjoyed this fun for five days.

This kind of gameplay can be changed in many ways, such as letting them compete to eat each other's meat, and whoever eats faster can avoid being knifed for a day; or they can order food on each other's bodies, and they must reach a certain weight to pass... You probably I don't like hearing details like this.

Feeding meat is just the beginning. I prefer mental torture; I don't have to search for food and medicine, and all my free time is used to design the most exquisite torture methods. I can confidently say that I later made them experience all the negative emotions that humans can experience - it is worth mentioning that the body is only an auxiliary means, and the most amazing torture tool is hope.

I almost broke all the rules set by my adoptive mother with both of them.

I know that in essence, I am seeking revenge; but my adoptive mother did not say whether revenge is allowed - what's more, even if it is possible, the method of revenge does not have to be so cruel, so I still violated the rules, and even Taking advantage of loopholes does not count.

That was my happiest period of time, and it was also my unluckiest period of time.

Every day is blood red, UU Readingwww.uukanshu.net My mind is also buzzing, I don’t know if it’s excitement or some other mixed emotions... So much so that when I recall it now, there are actually many places I can’t even remember.

I remember screaming and crying, the crazy laugh of one of them, and the lingering stench in my house that I finally got used to; during that time, I even forgot to water my adoptive mother’s arrowroots. , I just remember one day, as if I woke up from a dream, when I looked at it, I found that it was already dead.

If I could feel ashamed, I think I would. But alas I can't.

After my toy finally died, I completely left my home for the first and only time in twenty years.

I thought about taking my adoptive mother's thumb bone with me, as her body would have almost finished degrading; but I walked around her grave several times, and finally left without touching her.

There is no need for my mother to keep looking at me like that.

After I finished writing this chapter, I found that it was a few hundred words shorter than Burglary... I'll make it up for you tomorrow! I guess I'm almost finished writing this paragraph, and it can be said that the story develops quite predictably.

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