My Healing Game

The dim light reflects the faces of people, and the ticking sound in the clock represents the elapsed time.

When the pointers crossed again, everything seemed to be back many years ago. All the dead, with memories and pain, restarted this doomed journey.

"Every butterfly is the ghost of a flower from before, come back to find itself."

The reader closed the book in her hand, she leaned on the sofa and looked at the people next to her weakly.

She rarely attends such gatherings, and she will come this time entirely because her favorite writer invited her.

Looking secretly at the writer sitting in the corner, the man remained quiet and silent as usual.

"I have no way to understand, just because of a letter, we are coming to this broken place?" The student folded his hands in front of his knees, and took off his earphones: "I am not interested in whether there are ghosts in the world, you want to prove , Then you will prove it by staying here."

"There are no ghosts in the world, there are only people who pretend to be ghosts." The mob stood at the door, with his broad and strong back leaning against the door: "No one is allowed to leave this building until that person is caught."

"The person it wants to kill is me. Why are you panicking?" The doctor pinched out the cigarette, his eyes were sullen and unhappy: "I don't know if there are ghosts in the world, if there are no ghosts in this world, The one who wants to kill me should be in the house, among the eight of you."

"But why is it killing you?" Uncle Li didn't look up, looking at the medicine bottle in his hand: "Did you do something with us behind?"

"I just want to cure you all." The doctor stared at Uncle Li, as if trying to determine if the murderer was him.

"Everyone, please don't run around recently. The building is really unsafe." The teacher's voice was gentle, but there was a trace of anxiety and deep fear in the gentleness: "I've inquired about it, and the neighbors in the building said this. It’s not clean. Many people are dead. People from other places like to go here to commit suicide. It feels like this building is a black hole that keeps attracting the dead."

She tried her best to persuade everyone not to run around. She likes everyone to stay in a safe room away from danger: "The deaths of those people should not be simply accidents. There are many particularly scary stories circulating in this building. , Like a monster with a pig face, a stench in the corridor that can't be washed away by any detergent, a suicide person whose body is broken and going upstairs, etc. In short, no matter whether there are ghosts in this world, we Be careful."

"Isn't there only a few of us living in this building, aren't all the other residents living well?" The student walked to the door, but the mob was unwilling to let go. The student was not afraid of ghosts, but was a little afraid of the mob.

Regarding the question of whether there are ghosts in the world, several people in the room have different answers. None of them can convince each other. After arguing for a long time, the doctor suddenly looked at the author who said nothing.

"Writer, you are the first person who read the letter, and the person who accepted the invitation is also you. Do you think the person who wrote you is a ghost? Or a person?"

The doctor is a very smart person, and every word of his seems to have a special meaning hidden.

Although it was not clear, everyone present heard something from the doctor's words, and the doctor seemed to be suspicious of the author.

The lights in the house flickered a few times because of unstable voltage.

Everyone looked at the writer sitting in the corner. Compared with the others in the room, he had a unique temperament that could not be described in words.

It was as if there was a rope of reason and madness hanging from his neck. This rope was hanging down from the heaven and was slowly tightening. As he was about to hang him, it also brought him closer and closer to the answer.

Lifting his head, the writer glanced at the doctor, his gaze made the doctor feel evasive.

"If I were to kill you, it should be the eight of us surrounding a corpse, discussing why you committed suicide."

There is no redundant description, but it is full of persuasiveness, and it seems that there is no reason to refute it.

"I accepted the invitation just to finish my book. This place is very suitable for the end of my story."

The lights in the room began to flash again. When the writer spoke, footsteps faintly came from the corridor outside the door, and a faint fishy smell poured in from the crack of the door. It seemed that all abnormalities only appeared when the writer spoke. .

The doctor stared at the writer for a long time. His facial expression changed several times before returning to normal.

As if nothing happened just now, he changed the subject: "My experience is a reminder for everyone. The murderer used all kinds of terrible rumors to kill people. After you leave here, he will stay quietly. In the room, don’t go out anyway before dawn..."

The doctor heard a strange sound from the door of the living room before he finished speaking. It seemed that someone was scratching the door with his fingernails. When approaching, everyone heard the wind bell. The strange sound seemed to come from Room 401.

As the wind bell rang, a pungent smell came out from all corners of the room. No one knew what the smell was coming from, as if the room itself was a corpse.

The students began to retching, the teacher and the reader frowned, and A Meng covered her mouth and nose. Only the doctor, the writer and Uncle Li looked as usual in the room.

The discussion about Li Gui and the murderer was inconclusive. The physical discomfort slowly became obvious. The students looked around to find the source of the smell. A Meng put down the pen in his hand, his face flushed.

When finally unable to bear the strong smell, the student pushed away the body of the mob: "Do what you want to do by yourself, don't get involved with me, I'm back to the room."

The student grabbed the doorknob, and when he was about to open the door, his other hand pressed on the door panel.

Looking at that arm in a puzzled way, the student saw that the writer walked by the door at some unknown time.

He was about to push the writer away, but he stopped when his hand was about to touch the writer's shoulder, and he saw the writer's face.

In the depths of his calm eyes, there is a world completely derailed from reality. Hearing hallucinations, hallucinations, and delusions are the most destructive positive symptoms of schizophrenia. The writer has become accustomed to it. For him, the boundaries of reality have been very blurred.

"If you go out, you might die"

Silently looking at the living people in the room in front of him, the writer gently pressed his temples, and various noises came from his ears.

He is trying his best to control his behavior. He has worked very hard to scream, hit the wall, and tear everything to the bottom of his heart, but every word of him still makes the whole room depressive, and his emotions seem to be Can infect all the vice-personality.

The writer stretched his palm to the student, and the writer, whose spirit was in extreme contradiction, clearly wanted to catch the student and prevent him from leaving.

But the reality is different from the script. The students subconsciously avoided the writer's hand, pushed the door and ran out!

This is almost all the instinctive reaction of the body when encountering danger. The student has forgotten what he should say later, he just doesn't want to be caught by the writer in front of him.

"come back!"

When the door was opened, the smell in the room dissipated a lot, and the suppressed atmosphere also weakened. Several of the actors looked at Han Fei and even breathed a sigh of relief.

The writer played by Han Fei is just a supporting role, but he really seems to be a master character. His emotions can infect everyone in the house. His terrible field control ability makes Bai Xian who plays the doctor secretly startled. : "Nowadays young people have great acting skills."

"It's more than good." Li Huaiming, whose expression was not affected in any way, whether it was smelling the stench or experiencing other things, took out a bottle of medicine from his pocket, poured two tablets and swallowed: "His acting like A knife with a sharp edge is very sharp. It can break through some appearances and directly pierce the hearts of the audience. He can let his emotions infect everyone, and he can move freely, but I am worried that he will be affected by the characters in the play. For himself, after all, the role he plays is relatively dangerous."

The two old drama bones recognized Han Fei, and everyone knew each other. Just when they were about to chat with Han Fei, a scream suddenly came out in the corridor.

Things that hadn't happened in this script completely dragged all the actors back into reality, and several people all ran out of Room 404.

They saw the child who played the student fell on the stairs, and the corpses of many birds were thrown on the steps leading to the third floor. Some of those corpses had been dead for a long time, and the feathers and blood stains were all solidified together.

"What's the matter?" Hearing the screams ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ the door on the third floor was opened, Director Zhang and the staff ran over, they also saw the bird carcasses on the stairs: "Who did it? Props! What about the props!"

"Director Zhang, we didn't do it!" The staff in charge of the props hurriedly ran over: "Didn't you say let us all leave the fourth floor and give the actors a time to run in alone?"

"Didn't you do it?" Director Zhang asked him to quickly clean up the bird carcass, and then ran to the fourth floor: "Everyone is okay."

"It's okay." Several actors were also a little confused: "You haven't come to the fourth floor?"

"Yeah! We have been watching you through the broadcaster on the third floor, and your acting is great."

"What's the matter with the sudden smell and the sound of scratching the door?" Bai Xian was taken aback for a moment, he thought it was arranged by the director.

"Smell?" Director Zhang smelled it. There was no peculiar smell in the corridor, but he did not refute Bai Xian: "It is estimated that other neighbors in the building are doing ghosts. We have given a lot of money, but there are still a small number of people. Don’t want us to come here to film."