Nightmare Attack

"Doctor, please don't scare me," the fat man said with a grimace and trembling: "You can't help but be scared at all, even though I look strong. I'm just puffy and fat."

Jiang Cheng raised his head and glanced at him. He seemed to have thought that the food cooked by the fat man was really delicious, so he let him go and didn't continue talking.

Since being with Jiang Cheng, the fat man became much more nervous. After a while, he started to lively again, "Doctor," the fat man licked his lips and asked in a low voice, "You said you will still be able to do it after we fall asleep tonight?" Entering a nightmare?"

The nightmare is filled with murderous intent, and the weird yet extremely real feeling makes people shudder.

Jiang Cheng, who was busy hanging wet clothes, stopped what he was doing, thought for a few seconds and then returned: "Probably not. Although our physical strength can be fully restored after being freed from the last nightmare, the energy spent cannot be recovered." recover."

Fatty understood what Jiang Cheng meant. What he meant was that the energy consumed in nightmares could not be recovered like physical strength. If this continued, they would become more and more exhausted and eventually be consumed by nightmares to death.

They learned from Fan Li and Sister Nuan that although nightmares are scary, they often leave a glimmer of hope, which is obviously inconsistent with the rules of nightmares.

"That's good," the fat man took a long breath, then said again: "I'm still thinking about whether I should stay up tonight."

"It's meaningless," Jiang Cheng shook his head. "You can survive a few nights at most. When you fall asleep, you will die in a nightmare."

The word "death" instinctively sent a chill down the fat man's spine. He quickly explained that he was just complaining and would not do anything like that.

"Want some coffee?" Jiang Cheng wiped his hands and walked towards the kitchen, asking as he passed by the fat man.

The fat man was a little flattered, "I'd like to trouble you, doctor."

The sound of clanking came from the kitchen. Jiang Cheng reached out and took down two cups from the rack where the coffee cups were hung. "American, Italian, latte, or cappuccino?"

The fat man said with a little embarrassment: "Doctor, I don't know much about coffee. What I usually drink is the instant coffee that costs 1 yuan a bar in the supermarket. How about you make me a cup of cappuccino."

"Sorry," Jiang Cheng said, "There is no more cappuccino."

"Then change it to a latte."

"There's no more lattes either."

"American?"

"No."

"Then it'll be Italian," the fat man shrank his neck, "Thank you for your hard work, doctor."

"It's not hard," Jiang Cheng replied in a loud voice: "Because there is no more espresso coffee."

The fat man was stunned, "You don't have American, Italian, latte, or cappuccino? What do you have?"

"Instant," Jiang Cheng came out of the kitchen with two coffee cups, "but I have to correct you. The retail price of this one is now 1.5 yuan, not 1 yuan anymore. It has increased in price."

"There's only instant, so what do you want me to choose?" the fat man said excitedly.

Jiang Cheng sat opposite the fat man, picked up the coffee cup and took a sip, and said slowly: "Because life requires a sense of ritual."

Fatty felt that there was no use in arguing with Jiang Cheng. In order to prevent Jiang Cheng from getting involved again, he wisely chose to shut up.

"Drink it while it's hot," Jiang Cheng said, "I didn't put too much sleeping pills this time. You taste the saltiness first, and I'll know it next time."

Fatty: ""

The night was getting darker, and the neon lights in the distance lit up little by little. Through a half-open glass window, one could see the feasting and feasting of the outside world. The fat man rested his chin in a daze by the window.

Looking back on every bit of the nightmare, I cherish the beauty of the real world even more.

Jiang Cheng was slumped in his office chair watching horror movies, eating French fries with ketchup. He called Fatty, but the latter refused to go away.

After watching "The Old Corpse in a Mountain Village", Jiang Cheng almost fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the fat man huddled on the sofa, plugging his ears and looking uncomfortable.

Realizing that Jiang Cheng was awake, Fatty let go of his hand as if seeing a savior and shouted: "Doctor, what movie did you watch? That ghost is too scary."

After listening to Fatty's explanation, Jiang Cheng realized that Fatty had heard a very strange singing tune and wanted to go over and turn off the movie, but Chu Renmei showed up just in time.

"The ghost you are talking about is called Chu Renmei," Jiang Cheng explained. "It is a suffering woman in feudal society. It is also the prototype of Mr. Lu Xun's "La Traviata"."

Fatty automatically blocked what Jiang Cheng said.

After turning off the computer, the two went upstairs to sleep.

The fat man reported that it was a bit cold last night, so Jiang Cheng found him a new quilt. The fat man took Jiang Cheng's last chance to walk into the bedroom and told him that if he was scared after watching the horror movie, he could accompany him.

Before he finished speaking, the bedroom door slammed shut, and then there was the sound of locking.

The fat man smacked his lips and lay down unwillingly. Jiang Cheng had reminded him before that it was best to put on clothes and shoes before going to bed.

So Fatty took advantage of the sunshine to clean his shoes today, and bought himself a new pair of sneakers while he was out shopping for groceries, which he is currently wearing on his feet.

The location of the studio is relatively remote and very quiet at night.

Jiang Cheng habitually pulled the quilt up to his chin, breathing steadily and evenly.

His physique is very different from ordinary people. His perception of hot and cold is not that sensitive, he rarely gets sick, and his pain-sensing nerves are relatively dull.

Sometimes he even feels like an emotionless tool.

He drifted off to sleep.

It was a deep sleep.

An inexplicable melody echoed in my ears.

Not classical, not pop, not jazz, the tune had a melody unlike any genre he knew.

This voice seemed to be born from darkness.

Born in darkness and returned to darkness.

Jiang Cheng felt that everything was leaving him, as if he was sinking into the depths of the ocean, or entering an endless tunnel.

Despair, only despair, nothing else.

There was a crisp cracking sound, like a piece of pure black cloth being torn apart with brute force, and Jiang Cheng suddenly woke up.

He found himself standing at the corner of the first floor of the studio, with a black iron door standing in front of him.

His body gave orders before his brain. He stretched out his hand and pushed open the door in front of him.

After a strange feeling of dizziness, his feet seemed to have found support again and stepped on solid ground.

In front of you is a building similar to a school. It is not big and you can see the edge at a glance.

Several buildings stood quietly under the afterglow of the setting sun, casting dark gray shadows, giving them a rather romantic temperament.

He squinted at the sunset and judged that the current time in the world was around 4 or 5 o'clock in the afternoon.

No one else was seen nearby, and the school gate was closed.

He blocked the dazzling sunlight with his hands, stared in the direction of the school for a few times, then decisively turned around and walked in the opposite direction.