Wine and Gun

Perhaps it was Albarino's slow, mournful narration that fueled his madness in some way, because next Herstal gān something he shouldn't have gone to - he took a few seconds After walking away, he lowered his head and took out his mobile phone, and sent a picture to Albarino.

Albarino's cell phone number has changed since the last accident, because apparently the pianist took a bunch of pictures of him with his own phone after the attack, and dropped him by the way after setting up the crime scene. The phone was also taken away.

Since then, Albarino's old mobile phone card has never been used again, and of course Hardy and the others cannot locate the pianist through the signal of the mobile phone card. They all believed that Albarino's phone must have been thrown into a sewer somewhere by the pianist - and it was true, the phone was in the sewer now, but before Herstal threw it away Copy the photos inside.

It's a crazy idea, as he said, most serial killers are defeated by megalomania, which is the main reason Herstal never collects memorabilia from the dead and doesn't return to the crime scene. As a matter of fact, he shouldn't have left those photos, because even WLPD only has scans of the printing paper he left on site. The person who owns the original copies of those photos is the Westland pianist. This is what a child would do. logical reasoning.

Therefore, after he copied the photos, he still felt inappropriate, and in the next few days, he destroyed most of the documents scatteredly, to the extent that even the technical department of the police station could not restore the data.

But right now, there's a photo on his phone that hasn't even been printed out by the Westland pianist and pasted on the wall at the crime scene: it's lying on the ground with eyes closed. Albarino, his lips and skin were bloodless, his hair was disheveled, and most of it was piled up in a mess on his forehead.

There was nothing particularly private in that photo, unlike the insulting composition that the pianist had left on set; the bottom end of the frame was only stuck on Albarino's hip bone, and the focus was actually The main focus is on Albarino's face; the light and shadow at night highlight the graceful curvature of those muscles that have benefited from exercise, the wrong and mottled shadows in the rainy night, and those oil paints usually smeared on his skin open blood.

Herstal did not print out the photo when he set up the scene. He felt that the composition of the photo seemed to reveal too much of his self-he had a strange worry that this pure, out of nowhere The apprehension that came told him: Olga would see something. Although he didn't know what it was, Olga would definitely see it.

Now, he sent that photo to Albarino.

Less than two seconds later, everyone heard Albarino's phone vibrate.

The victim, who sat in the center of the stage, apologized in a low voice to the others, took out his phone, and glanced casually - then Herstal saw Albarino's eyes widen slightly with a look of disbelief , This kind of expression on the other side's face is not a violation, but it is really worth cherishing - he didn't say anything, and he didn't show any other superfluous expressions, but quickly put the phone back in the pocket of his jacket.

When he started talking again, he was as calm as if nothing had happened.

But this is clearly not the case.

Because Albarino stood up, deliberately injecting some traces of anxiety into his body language. He hesitantly said to everyone: "It's hard for me to get out of this accident for another reason: because I know the criminal doesn't want me to forget. The criminal reminds me all the time what happened to me. , I will be with him for the rest of my life."

He paused, took a deep breath, and said it in an almost sincere tone, but only "almost".

"He left some... indelible marks. I've been running away from this reality, but... it seems unfair and I should face up to the final result." Albarino whispered, even biting Biting his lower lip, Herstal saw his teeth sink into his lip, biting the soft flesh until it turned white, "I hope I'm brave enough to be able--assuming I can show--"

Albarino had a hesitant pause here, and others probably didn't expect what he would do, so when he did, people bào let out a small exclamation of surprise.

Albarino was wearing a jacket with a soft jumper underneath and a loose hem. After this lifelike, hesitant pause, he just stretched out a hand and grabbed the hem of the dress and lifted it up.

——For the first time since the 30th of last month, Herstal saw a string of scars on Albarino's abdomen.

The letters formed by the knife marks may have been removed for almost a week, and they are still bloated and red. Thirteen knives, an insulting word, the stitches are neat but still looks twisted, the new delicate skin shimmers in the light because of the lack of texture.

Herstal will always remember the touch of the knife piercing the skin, and how the blood flowed along his fingers; when Albarino's eyes slackened in agony, those smiles seemed to finally subside, but they still stubbornly stayed where they were. .

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