Psychological Control

Okay, give Dexter a week to find out the truth of the year, but according to my understanding of Sheriff Harry, I didn't think he would really find out what. This week's agreement is actually just to give me more preparation time.

Due to the pollution of the sea area, the terminal on the west side was blocked and suspended. Without the ships and crowds, the government would have enough time to clean the waters. This also led to the fact that at night, there was no other plan on the pier that would interfere with me, except for a small guard hall, which was actually not very useful.

The reason for telling Dexter on July 23, 1994 was because the local newspaper reported at this time, the only place I could find describing what happened that year. Where it happened more than a decade ago was on a dock. Now that pier has been converted into other places, so I can only borrow this pier that is temporarily suspended.

Want to make Dexter willing to learn to control his inner valleys like I do. It was only for him to really understand what he was looking for so many years. What he lacked was nothing more than a terrible memory that had been deliberately forgotten. When he sees everything clearly, I think maybe he can learn to let go.

My plan is to use other means to reproduce what happened before him. It's like I took him back to my hometown and made him remember my existence again.

Although the West Bank terminal is temporarily suspended, the shipping company still has some containers parked there. Because it is no longer used, it is messy. I came here an hour before the appointed time, but in fact, I have been here many times in the previous week.

The sound of "creaking" was harsh, as I opened the door of the container. It was dark inside, and I flashed a path with the flashlight I brought and walked in. My actions seem completely unaffected by the environment here, but God knows that when I first came here a few days ago, my feet barely listened to my call.

Perhaps Brian's remaining fear in my heart, at that time, there seemed to be a voice in my mind telling me constantly, leave quickly, escape the ghost place. But my intellect knows that I can stop wherever I want, just not here. This is the last step that will bring me and Dexter a place of salvation and rebirth.

I walked into a container filled with icy air, and my shoes hit on the iron sheet, and the sound of gurgling sounded like a huge metal instrument under my feet. I closed the container door backhand before I opened the two battery-powered windproof lights that I had installed here. As soon as these two lamps were turned on, they illuminated the original dark box.

In front of me is an operating table made of several boxes temporarily. On the operating table is a chainsaw I bought from a second-hand store. Putting the two cans in my hand on the ground, I looked around and sighed. Then I opened the two big cans on the ground, which contained liquid, and as the lid was opened, a thick, disgusting **** smell came out.

But I was already immune to this. When I went to the slaughterhouse to buy two cans of pig blood, the **** appearance of the slaughterhouse made me experience an earlier baptism than Dexter.

I placed the backpack behind me on the temporary operating table, pulled the backpack chain, put the flashlight back in my hand, and took out another thing. It's a bit like a small vacuum cleaner, but it's not. I put on a mask, put this little thing in a vacuum cleaner-like jar, and inserted the other end into a jar full of pig blood.

The "buzzing" sound rang after I turned on the thing, and the pig's blood in the jar was sucked out and started to spray from the other end of the little thing in my hand.

The blood splattered out, and all the blood on the operating table and the walls of the surrounding boxes were stained. I was careful to get a blood stain on a wall near the operating table. This blood slowly flows down from the wall, and because of the viscosity, it becomes much slower than the water flowing on the glass of the rain car.

The empty jar made a gurgling noise. I turned off the power of the things in my hand and pulled out the catheter to directly spill the pig blood left in the jar on the ground. Because the ground of the container is not flat, but has a shape of ridges and depressions. So the spilled blood slowly flows into the box with the slight inclination of the container.

I looked in the direction of the blood flow, and it seemed like a hallucination appeared before my eyes. Brian's memory was mixed with what I saw before, as if there were two more frightened children, the older one tightly held the other child in his arms and hugged it tightly. It was Brian and Dexter as children.

Dexter didn't see the final scene because his head was held in his arms by Brian. But I seemed to be able to look at the little Brian who was more than ten years ago, and I saw his pale and bloodless face. His original white complexion looked like dead people, empty and desperate eyes.

I took my eyes off and poured another can of pig blood on the other wall. The whole box was filled with a stronger **** smell than the original slaughterhouse. And this **** smell is even more pure, without the stench of the slaughterhouse.

All preparations have been completed, and now it is left to wait. After packing up the tools I just used, I opened the door of the container to take a deep breath of fresh air, and put the props that were not necessary in the scene restoration into another container. Leaning against the container, I looked at the moon today, as if it would dispel all the darkness.

Finally, the agreed time has come.

I hid in a messy container by the seaside, and saw a person walking towards this side from a distance. He walked quickly and leaned forward slightly, as if an invisible force was pulling him forward. Looking at him all the way, it seems as if a century has passed.

He approached the side of the container where I had prepared everything just to recreate his scene. Because I didn't close the door of the box tightly when I came out, he could see the lights revealed in the box.

"Bini? ..." I heard him call my name so tentative. Unexpectedly, even after telling him my full name, did he decide to call it that way. Bryan smiled at the corner of his mouth as he remembered the familiar name.

Just then, Dexter slowly opened the door of the container. He wants to see it, the gift that his brother prepared for him ...

Standing lightly from the blind spot where I was hiding, I looked at his rigid back. I also saw the scene I made in front of him. For a few seconds, I thought Dexter just stood there and stopped breathing.

As soon as this world left, the container itself was left in it, and afterwards I repaired it to a usable air-conditioning compressor.

"I'm almost sure that the restoration of this scene is perfect." I said a few steps behind him. When Dexter heard my voice, his body shook, and he stepped back involuntarily. He seemed to want to turn around, and I reached out and held his shoulder, pushing him in.

"Don't take a closer look? If you don't force yourself, how can you remember what happened?" I said, forcing him to walk inward. His foot stepped into the blood pool, which was different from when I walked in. There was more sound of water being beaten than the empty metal sound.

Suddenly my hands pressed against his shoulders were empty, and Dexter fell to his knees. His heavy gasping voice made me feel at a loss, I quickly walked into the inner place, and stood at the place where I remembered Brian and Dexter before. Then I stared at Dexter with his hands on his face and panting loudly.

He knew I was watching him, and it took him a while to put his hands on his face down. I saw bloodshot eyes and dark circles under his eyes. He didn't want to sleep much this week. "Is this what you really look like? ..." Dexter said, his voice was not as hoarse as before.

"Yes," I smiled, my voice soft and pleasant, "but you shouldn't have seen me like this for the first time, haven't you? How is my performance in the American supermodel and survivors? Is there any lost Spear's face? "

"What the **** are you doing? ... the blood ..." He asked impatiently after hearing my response, and it didn't seem to care about my shudder.

"Are you worried that these are human blood? Because Sheriff Harry gave you a killing code that can only be a volunteer police officer." This was the third time I met him, and I finally said the killing without any worries. this phrase. "Are you going to kill me? Obviously we are so similar."

"I! ... I wouldn't do this ..." Dexter argued, raising his hand to his ears again. "No ... I don't want to see ..." He closed his eyes tightly, stubbornly not wanting to face the blood in front of him.

He seems to have misunderstood that the blood in front of him is the blood of the victim I killed? I thought about walking quickly to his side, squatting in front of him with his hands on the back of his hands covering his ears.

"Have you ever heard the word of a traumatic event?" I whispered in his ear, "Have you read a book about our demons? Or, in other words, did your adoptive father Harry tell you that So will this be the reason? "2k novel reading network