Late Night Bookstore

Chapter 218: The art of death!

Here, this is "purgatory", but now, there is more something called authenticity.

Just like the imitations of some big international brands, the difference in quality is really very small, and even some imitations are better than the real ones in quality, but in the eyes of consumers, there is an atmosphere that belongs to him , Belongs to his pure.

at the moment,

The real devil came,

All beings are equal,

In front of hell,

collective,

Shaking!

The instruments in various laboratories tremble at this time, as if a magnetic field and call were sensed. The previous killing weapons and tools seemed to have their own consciousness at this time.

They started to cheer, they started to be active, they were even more impatient, waiting for a new round of food for the demons.

There are the friction of chains, the impact of scalpels and pliers, the "squeak" of stretcher carts, the "sizzle" of doors and windows, and even the incineration plant used to incinerate dead bodies.

There are also ashes,

Flying around.

The sounds, high or low, or neat or messy, were perfectly integrated together at this time, forming an exciting rhythm, just like Beethoven's "Symphony of Fate", slowly at this time The prologue kicked off and reached a climax.

This is an aura and a rendering. Really gloomy and real horror, kind of like candlelight on the table, it will not bring any taste change to the dishes,

But this sense of form,

Indispensable.

Zhou Ze, who lacked half of his arm, walked in this institute, he walked very slowly;

Watching him make his own ruling 80 years ago, his killing,

the first time,

Zhou Ze really realized that

death,

It turned out to be really an art.

With its own unique rhythm,

It contains its unique charm,

Like a wine that has been in the cellar for many years, it has been fascinated by this scent before drinking it, and now it is slowly tasted bit by bit. The scent enters from the mouth, flows through the tip of the nose, and finally falls into the stomach, hot taste All over the body instantly.

Comfortable and enjoyable, making you almost uncontrollably want to send out!

The white coats in the institute looked like headless flies running back and forth, screaming, crying, screaming. When the identities of the devil and the road were changed, it turned out that there was no Who is more noble than others? In the same position and situation, everyone is the same.

At the beginning, when they faced the struggle and wailing of the prisoners in the test field, they may still be able to laugh and chat and discuss which service in the nearby comfort center is more enthusiastic.

At that time, they were outside, and others were inside, and now, they are inside, and there is no leisurely atmosphere when they were outside.

They encountered the most terrifying "ghost hitting the wall" and knew that they wanted to run but couldn't run out at all.

Like the little white mouse kept in a container in the laboratory, the fate is actually doomed.

Because of Zhou Ze’s special command,

So the next death picture is not as simple as it was at the beginning. It used to be a bloom of epiphylla. Now, it is to let you go from the flower bone to the bud to be fully bloomed in the end and then withered.

Every process is indispensable, every link is indispensable,

From the cultivation of fear, to the depression in the early stage, the details in the middle stage, the extension of the pain in the later stage, the flower of life, so delicate, it has been slowly branded by countless methods.

Death will not let you die easily, nor will it make you die simple, drain away every fear of you, release your last pain, and even your soul, will not let go.

Don’t think that the end of the flesh is liberation,

The real life and death can not be, in fact, just started after your physical end.

You should know that the soul is more sensitive than the body, and the punishment of **** is mostly directed at the soul.

If you compare the flesh to the bag P, then the soul is the expensive head hiding in it,

Who is more sensitive,

Understand.

The art of killing,

The spiral nest of death,

The constant hustle and bustle, the constant wandering, and the constant interlacing.

Zhou Ze bowed his head,

Seeing the blood on the ground, he also seemed to be alive again, like a master of landscape painting, constantly changing his appearance.

Eerie, mysterious, and ghost symbols, like the stars embellish the night sky, with a kind of jokes and taunts that don't need to be covered up at all.

A pool of blood continually extended and turned into blossoming lotus flowers at the feet of Zhou Ze. On each petal was a painful face, the dead souls of the white coats that had just died. Their imprisonment is a feast of terror that belongs to them.

It's like watching the pictures on a black and white TV when I was a kid. The lines are blank, the lines are very messy, and the white is not so white. Under the change, they are dazzling, vomiting, and disgusting.

Zhou Ze bent down,

He covered his chest with the remaining hand,

A little vomiting.

It’s not sympathy or compassion, it’s just some surprise,

Eighty years ago,

Compared to who I am now,

It seems even more cruel.

The broken body is still walking in it,

Slowly, he seemed to appreciate his own masterpiece,

At a certain time,

He appeared in front of a white coat that was still alive, using it as a side dish, throwing it into one of the notes in the passionate symphony, or squeezing out his blood to supplement this **** romantic watercolor.

He didn't grin,

Even when he first opened his eyes to see Zhou Ze, he actually closed his eyes.

It seems a little careless,

But he seems to be the most perfect artist, orchestra conductor. He has performed his duties with due diligence, doing everything best to satisfy the audience...

Oh no,

In fact, he is satisfied with himself.

Crossed the dream of 80 years of time,

Are located at both ends of the point in time,

What is a dream,

What is the false part that dreams can change,

Zhou Ze did not understand, nor did he understand.

But probably,

Eighty years ago, I woke up here, started killing here, and began to purify myself. This should be true.

As for whether he has seen himself now after 80 years or not, because he accepted his commission, he has made this extremely simple killing for him more complicated, more tired, longer and more enjoyable,

Then it is unknown.

If you want to know the truth,

Can only wait to dig out the secret underground,

Leave this dream,

In reality,

To look at the traces left over 80 years ago,

Only in this way can we get the most correct judgment.

however,

suddenly,

Everything seems to have been accelerated,

Zhou Ze suddenly found that the blood on the ground that had originally changed the pattern began to boil,

The white coats and gendarmerie who were waiting to be put into this feast one by one were almost put into various laboratories. The experiments in the laboratory began to continue, and the tools and instruments began to operate on their own. This kind of experiment started again, and even the booklet and pen of the record flew up and performed their own records.

It's just that the raw material is no longer the road they used to be, but it has become themselves.

But this change in melody made Zhou Ze a little shocked and inexplicable. When he looked at the broken figure again, he found that figure had already appeared in front of him.

He grasped his own half head with both hands,

Seems very painful,

The body is also shaking,

As if I could not restrain myself.

Everything around him is his handwriting, his art of death, everything is changing according to his state of mind, and when he starts to fall into madness and runaway, everything around him begins to be cruel Violent aesthetics to extend.

Screaming,

Howling,

There are living people,

There are dead souls,

They are even more miserable in this.

Suddenly,

The broken figure opened his eyes, with a blood red in his eyes, and for a time, Zhou Ze was a little dazed.

What is he shouting at himself,

He is telling something to himself,

But damn,

Why can't you hear a word!

"I can't hear, what are you talking about!"

Zhou Ze shouted at him. He knew that what the other party said should be very important. This might even be the message he left to himself 80 years ago.

by……

The form of dreams.

But he can't hear anything, really can't hear anything, plus the other party is on the verge of runaway and screaming, and even if he understands his lips, Zhou Ze can't analyze what he is talking about.

"boom!"

A series of explosions came,

These are the sounds of several outlets being blown up.

The Japanese above no one dared to go any further, intending to close this place.

And at this time,

The broken body image is getting crazy,

The blood on the ground was constantly rising at this time, slowly covering up. At first, it was only to Zhou Ze's foot, then slowly to Zhou Ze's knee, and finally, the waist was not over.

Zhou Ze wanted to shout that figure again. He wanted to know what he had said just now, but Zhou Ze was too late to ask, and too late to do anything, because the blood had drowned him.

"Goo..."

body,

Like falling into the depths of the ocean,

All around,

It is the loneliness that makes you feel desperate,

And below,

There is a broken figure,

It seems to be looking up and looking up, but the distance between the two is getting farther and farther with the naked eye.

The buoyancy began to get bigger and bigger, Zhou Ze started to rise faster and faster, and the suffocating panic feeling became stronger and stronger.

"puff…………"

When Zhou Ze surfaced,

He sat up straight from the sofa.

"Hoo.........Hoo...............Hoo........."

Zhou Ze was sweating heavily, and his whole body was soaked,

The white warbler beside me was still asleep, but his hair had returned to the girl's black, and even the skin became tighter and more elastic, as if the water could come out after a pinch.

Like the fresh stamens, it was moisturized by the morning dew.

Zhou Ze stretched out his hand to cover his forehead,

He hasn't recovered a bit,

It's really the previous picture, too crazy and too shocked, especially the sense of art embodied in the killing makes people feel that they are in the middle of the symphony orchestra,

No, it is the very center of the tsunami!

At this time,

Zhou Ze's cell phone rang,

He glanced at the screen,

It was actually Zhang Yanfeng's call.

Answered the phone, and said "Hey" feebly.

Zhang Yanfeng on the other side of the phone seemed very excited, and there was a huge roar of machinery next to him. He shouted loudly:

"Hey, the above has already agreed, excavation, excavation..."

Excavating?

Zhou Ze is still a bit confused~www.wuxiaspot.com~What to dig?

But soon,

Zhou Ze suddenly woke up,