The Master of the Strange Realm

Chapter 71 Chapter 68 The evil spirits passing by and the bad taste of the time travelers

The blonde girl waved her hand, opened the ornate feather fan in her hand to cover half of her face, and looked at Wellington with some unkind eyes.

After all, Jenkins was brought by her. Jenkins was just a small figure, and to embarrass him here was to embarrass her.

Seeing that no one objected, in a silent atmosphere, the invited writers began to tell their stories one after another.

Probably no one expected that the theme of the final story of this reading salon would be a horror story. Therefore, although the logic of most stories is still smooth, the content of the story is always inseparable from the tradition of resurrection in the cemetery and evil sacrifice.

But everyone still listened with relish. In the quiet room, only the firewood in the fireplace occasionally crackled, and the slightly low male or female voices told stories related to "corpses", "ghosts" and "darkness".

This atmosphere really makes people immersed in it. Even if the story is a little worse, it can be compensated by the atmosphere.

But Jenkins felt that the temperature in the room had dropped a little. He twisted his body uneasily, and happened to see Miss Hesha's attention was not on the writer in front of the fireplace at this time, but turned her head to look outside.

Through the high-end embroidered knitted curtains that were not drawn tightly, Jenkins saw a black hole of eyes looking inward.

The eyes were full of dead silence.

"A spirit that happened to pass by?"

Jenkins listened to the man in front of the fireplace describing the dampness of the cemetery at night with an unchanged expression, and thought in his heart whether to find an opportunity to relieve himself again and get rid of the peeping Tom outside.

The light gray smoke penetrated into the room through the window gap, and the firelight of the fireplace swayed, and the light seemed to be getting weaker and weaker.

Miss Michael beside Jenkins subconsciously raised her right hand and covered her smooth left arm. She also felt the change in temperature.

Before Jenkins could act, Miss Hesha's drooping right hand began to beat regularly in the air, which seemed to be an unknown melody.

Jenkins saw a yellow light spot in front of her, flashing with brilliance like the stars in the sky.

In an instant, the gray mist and the eyes outside the window disappeared, and the burning wood in the fireplace shook a few times, making crackling sounds, as if breaking the weird atmosphere in the room.

Many people breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that the oppression in their hearts was much less, but they couldn't find a reason.

Jenkins also breathed a sigh of relief and ignored the matter.

The storytellers walked to the carpet in front of the fireplace one by one, sat cross-legged, and returned to their seats one by one. The last one was of course Jenkins.

He stood up, smiled at Miss Michael and Miss Hesha beside him, then cleared his throat and began his story.

"This is the story I heard from my neighbor Aunt Susan Spence. Her home is in Squirrel Lane in the lower city, which is very chaotic."

He said in a voice with a little Nolan dialect.

The young gentlemen and ladies were stunned. Most of the beginnings of other people's stories were a long time ago, so why was this one directly located in Nolan City?

"Next door to Aunt Susan is a young man who studies painting at the Norland Art Academy. Aunt Susan calls him Hardy."

Jenkins noticed that the light spot in front of Miss Hesha lit up again, this time it was another one.

A subtle sense of fear rising from the heart suddenly appeared, but it was very, very weak.

This is somewhat similar to the [Fear Technique] he and his father encountered in the basement of the castle, but the effects of the two are worlds apart.

"Create an atmosphere for me?"

He thought so in his heart, and the story in his mouth did not stop.

"Mr. Hardy has a very loving girlfriend. She also lives in the slums of the downtown area and makes a living by washing clothes and pasting matchboxes for others."

Jenkins wanted to say it was a flower girl, but the words stopped at the tip of his tongue. The psychological shadow brought to him by A-01-2-0198 has not completely disappeared.

"One day."

Pause for a moment.

"She died, headfirst, from the clock tower in downtown Nolan. Since there are many ladies present, I won't describe what the red and white liquid after the head was broken is."

No one spoke, but he heard a slight retching sound as expected.

"Mr. Hardy was in great pain, and the police attributed the poor lady's death to suicide, which made him even more sad. On the seventh night after her death, Mr. Hardy, who was diligently practicing painting skills at home, heard the sound of bangs coming from outside the door. He opened the door of the shabby apartment and saw only a vague figure disappearing at the corner of the alley with the brass steam pipe under the red and blue moons. Nolan was a little cool in August, and Mr. Hardy shivered and ignored it."

Jenkins sighed, the firelight from the fireplace illuminated half of his face, and the other half was hidden in the shadows.

I don't know if his story was too immersive, or if Miss Hesha's ability worked, even though the story had just begun, the faces of the audience had already produced uneasy expressions.

"For several days, the strange bang-bang-bang sound would be heard on time every night. This sound reminded Mr. Hardy of someone slapping the ground with their palms. This sound appeared more and more frequently and more and more frequently, and Mr. Hardy gradually became uneasy. In particular, when he slept at night, he always dreamed that someone was lying in front of his window and watching him fall asleep."

As expected, there was a slight scream, and Jenkins thought he had created a good atmosphere.

He lowered his right hand, hidden in the shadow of his body, and tapped the ground lightly - [Frost Fist]!

He only used the minimum amount of spirit, but the temperature had changed. Jenkins was worried that he would be discovered, so the change was very slight.

"Aunt Susan told me that Mr. Hardy was getting increasingly haggard during that period. He found that the figure wandering outside his house every day looked like his dead lover. One evening, in extreme panic, he made up his mind to find the church he believed in for help, but the church closed very early that night. He did not dare to stay on the street for too long and had to take a carriage back home.

The coachman heard about this and told Mr. Hardy a little "common sense": evil spirits can only maintain the posture before death, and the poor lady lay on the ground with her body stretched out when she died, which means she could not bend over. Therefore, as long as you hide under the bed, you can avoid the evil spirit.

"He hurriedly ran forward, ran, and fled all the way back home, and the sound of bang bang bang never disappeared behind him. In the end, Mr. Hardy still successfully hid under the bed. He did not dare to look outside. He could only turn his back and hear the sound of bang bang bang getting closer and closer in the dark, and finally stopped at the bedside. ”

PS: You should have heard this story, right?

In addition: In this world with a serious religious atmosphere, telling Cthulhu stories will definitely be labeled as heresy, or suspected of being related to evil gods. Although from the perspective of the protagonist's life in the story, the church is very open-minded. But the premise is that Jenkins is a "member" of the church. Everyone has a big imagination, but it is illogical to promote unknowable evil things in public in this novel...

Section 72 Chapter 69 Devil's Story (I)

Jenkins paused with a bad heart and chuckled.

"But fortunately, the stalker by the bed did not touch Mr. Hardy. As the bang bang bang sound went from loud to soft, the frightened Hardy confirmed that she had left.

He bravely twisted his body, closed his eyes and turned his face away from the bottom of the bed. The moment he opened his eyes again, he suddenly thought of one thing, he made a huge mistake. "

A short silence.

"The defeated eyes stared at him, the woman died upside down. "

The living room fell into a terrible silence. Even though Miss Hesha's ability had been withdrawn, the fear still loomed over everyone's head.

"But there is still a question."

Jenkins unexpectedly spoke again:

"Since poor Mr. Hardy is dead, who brought me the ending of this story?"

He clapped his hands, stood up, and sat back in his original position.

The orange earring naturally belonged to Jenkins. No one would object that his story was the most "wonderful" horror story. The party ended hastily after the story. Jenkins wondered if these boys and girls were too timid?

Some girls did not escape from the weird sense of terror until they left. Many people invited Jenkins to accompany them home to calm their fearful hearts, but Jenkins refused.

"They have their own guards and servants."

That's what Jenkins thought.

"It's a little chilly in the night of Nolan in August. "

When everyone walked out of the apartment and said goodbye one by one, Jenkins suddenly sighed, and then everyone's smile froze.

The owner of the apartment was the little Wellington. As the owner, he naturally had to see everyone off at the door.

Just after everyone's carriages had all driven away, an elegant black and white kitten walked out of the shadows on the street. It first meowed at the owner of the apartment, little Wellington, and then chased after Jenkins' carriage that disappeared into the darkness.

Letting the servants clean up the house first, young Wellington stood alone on the empty street, bent down, and bowed respectfully to the kitten who left. Raising his head, I don't know what he was thinking in his eyes flashing with black flames.

"This is very interesting."

This sentence is not the common language of the kingdom.

(Dividing line)

"You are really mean. "

Sitting in the carriage, Miss Michael joked with Jenkins with a smile.

Because it was not daytime, there would always be gossip when a man and two women sat in the carriage, so there was a maid in costume sitting next to Jenkins.

The carriage moved along the dim avenue towards Privet Drive, and they were going to take Jenkins home first.

"Some people are really annoying, and it's okay to teach them a lesson."

"But my friends were scared."

"I'm really sorry, do you need me to write a letter to apologize to those ladies?"

Miss Michael raised her eyebrows.

"You don't need to apologize. But, they invited you to escort them home just now, why didn't you agree? This is not a gentleman's behavior."

"Don't they have their own guards? And it's so late, people will gossip."

Jenkins said, this is his true thought.

"Do you really think so?"

Miss Michael asked with a smile, but Jenkins thought she might have other intentions.

"Yes. "

Miss Michael immediately showed a look of pity on her face.

"Mr. Wellington, do you have any conflicts with me?"

He asked this question unexpectedly straightforwardly.

"No, it's my fault."

Miss Michael shook her head and looked apologetic.

"Everyone has some friends and some enemies. Although Daniel Wellington is handsome and has an extraordinary family, there are always people who hate him."

"Then I understand."

Jenkins nodded knowingly, this is a very old story.

"I didn't expect that he would engage in such small tricks in front of such a friend. I'm really sorry."

While the two were talking, a trembling female voice suddenly sounded.

"Mr. Willamt, please tell me, is the story you just told true?"

Miss Hesha, who had not spoken since getting on the carriage, asked softly. At this time, Jenkins couldn't tell whether it was acting or if he was really scared.

"It's fake, I swear to the goddess it's fake!"

He is not so obscene as to casually scare an adult girl he knows well.

"Hathaway is timid."

Miss Michael combed her companion's long red hair lovingly with her hands, and the maid next to Jenkins immediately coughed heavily.

"It's okay. I don't think Mr. Williams is a very old-fashioned person."

She chuckled, and Jenkins turned to look at the dim street outside the car without making any comments.

"Haha~"

He covered his mouth again and chuckled, and continued to himself: "Hathaway is even afraid of old stories like demons, that's just how she is."

"Demon?"

Jenkins heard this familiar word again. From the memory of the original owner, he could search for strange stories circulating in the world, many of which were about demons. Like the world before the time travel, this world also has the common sense that "you cannot sign any contract with the devil or devils". There are many such warnings in bedtime stories.

For example, during the famine, in order to save the lives of his younger siblings, a brave young man took the initiative to find the devil and sold his soul in exchange for the happiness of his siblings' lives. The result was naturally...

I was stunned for a moment, my thoughts completely disrupted. Looking out the window at the street scene, the city was completely silent. Jenkins suddenly said:

"Please let me down here. I want to take a walk by myself. I haven't seen the night view of Nolan City for a long time."

"But it's still far from Privet Drive..."

"It doesn't matter."

Jenkins shook his head, squinted his eyes, and tightly held the [Spirit Strike Cane] in his right hand.

Since Jenkins insisted, Miss Mihail could only agree to this request. The maid asked the coachman to stop immediately. Jenkins nodded to the two noble girls and was about to get out of the car.

"Mr. Willamt, thank you very much for joining our party."

Miss Michael said to him.