Knowing that there was a story to be heard, Ren immediately sat down.
He glanced around and saw that Catherine beside him was a beautiful girl with great looks, but unfortunately she had no wine.
John stopped being pretentious and began to tell the lengthy dream.
………
The sky was gray, the rain was pouring, and the visibility in the water curtain was very low.
The ground leading to the slums was full of potholes and there was a lot of water on it. A young painter held a drawing board and covered it above his head.
He jumped step by step, like a nimble rabbit, jumping over dirty puddles and ran home.
He is a local and an orphan. The brick house left by his parents is not small in size, but it is very dilapidated, has poor lighting, occasionally leaks, and is not very windproof and cold-proof.
But the young painter has no other place to stay.
In this bad weather, it is so happy to have a home that can protect you from the wind and rain.
The usually unbearable darkness and humidity seemed to turn into a warm and tender one. As if he had discovered something, the young painter who was running wildly on the street suddenly stopped.
A woman is lying on the corner of the street.
The rain had already wet her khaki shirt jacket and yellow gauze skirt.
Her face was pale and bloodless, and her long brown-red hair was spread out wetly, like a delicate flower that had been destroyed by a storm.
She lay weakly on the ground, breathless.
The young painter stood still for a few times. After struggling for a while, he picked her up and took her home.
After taking her home, he felt a little embarrassed. She was still unconscious and wearing soaked clothes, but it was difficult for him to take off a young woman's clothes.
He asked the little neighbor girl to take off her clothes.
But not long after, the young painter waiting under the eaves outside the door heard the girl's scream.
The girl ran outside the door in panic and said that the woman had a long wound on her abdomen, which was full of blood. Then the girl went home with a scared look on her face.
The young painter had to go into the house by himself, take off the woman's clothes and bandage the woman's wounds.
Looking at the comatose woman's beautiful and flawless face, smooth and delicate skin, and sexy legs... the young painter who had never had a girlfriend couldn't help but blush.
But he didn't do anything obscene.
When taking off the other party's clothes, the young painter always closed his eyes and quickly covered them with clothes, although the unconscious beautiful woman may not feel anything at all.
The woman lay in bed and did not wake up.
In the slums, the houses of young painters are not small.
But his paintings rarely sold. Due to financial constraints, he only had one bed and sold all the extra furniture.
At night, the young painter had to sleep on a bunk on the ground. Fortunately, it was still autumn and he did not catch a cold.
When he woke up the next morning, he fed the woman some milk and then went out to create and sell paintings.
When the painter came back after buying some beans and a fresh fish, the other party had already woken up.
The beautiful woman has already put on another set of clothes, a mid-length floral dress with a white shirt-style upper body and red and blue flowers embroidered on the skirt.
The young painter was very confused. There should be no women's clothes in his house.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her pale and bloodless cheeks made her look weak, but her voice was cold:
"You brought me here and helped me treat my wounds?"
"I saw you were unconscious, so I hugged you back. I'm sorry, I promise, I didn't peek... No, I closed my eyes..." the young painter said hesitantly.
She seemed to smile and lightly twitched her brown-red hair:
"What do you need? I can grant you a wish."
"My wish is that one day everyone will like my paintings. I haven't introduced myself yet, I am Igor Kassina, a street painter." The young man said warmly.
"I'm sorry, maybe you should change your wish. I can't do anything about art. No one can make others fall in love with a painting suddenly.
But I can give you some money, I am Claire."
Claire stared with beautiful eyes at the young painter with a handsome face, blond curly hair and blue eyes.
"It's not necessary. I'm used to having nothing. You can have a good rest and I'll prepare lunch." The young painter Igor said nonchalantly.
He carried beans and fresh fish into the kitchen. After a while, he walked to the edge of the bed carrying a bowl of fresh fish, a bowl of bean soup, and a piece of white bread.
"You don't have to do this, I can do it myself..." The pretty face was slightly red, and the woman named Claire was a little embarrassed.
Igor shook his head.
He put the pea soup into her lips with a spoon, and she... felt the warmth of being cared for for the first time.
Claire lived here.
For the first time, the painter Igor's dilapidated house has a tenant, and he can get a large amount of rent from her every month.
Although he felt that the other party gave too much, she seemed not to be short of money at all.
Two months passed in a flash, and the young portrait Igor discovered that there were many strange things about her body.
But he didn't think much about it, the two got along very happily, and he often painted for her.
Until that day, the painter found a wanted notice in front of the Church of Light...
After returning home, the painter Igor hesitated for a long time, looking at her who had dyed her hair black and her appearance had changed somewhat.
He said slowly: "Claire, you are a witch, you don't allow me to clean your room.
There may be some things inside that I can't easily see.
I should have known. Every time you come back, I can smell the faint smell of blood from you. It is the smell of human blood. You may not know. That day I saw some glowing blood runes on your arm.
.”
Claire's red lips curled up slightly and she stretched out her white palms.
A golden ladybug flew down from the beam and stopped on her finger:
"I know what happened that day. You looked so clumsy and cute."
Igor sighed and said after a moment of silence:
"The church's wanted notice says that you have killed more than a hundred people, and you are the famous 'Red Witch'. You must have also killed those people in Shenghua District recently.
To be honest, I hate the behavior of taking other people’s lives wantonly.”
Lowering her head slightly, the witch Claire's voice became very cold:
"Then why don't you inform the church people that I didn't find a paladin or priest following you.
I was almost killed by a fourth-level paladin named Michelle.
If you hadn't brought me in that day, he would have found me, and now I should be hanging on the black judgment pillar in front of the church and burned to ashes by the holy fire."
"Yes, I actually regret it a bit... I don't know what to do. Those seven people in Shenghua District were killed by me to some extent.
I heard that you can draw strength from blood, why did you choose to stay far away? You were very weak at the beginning, but it would be easy to kill me, so why not just kill me?" Igor stared at her with a complicated expression.
Claire suddenly stood up, her hair gradually turning red.
The hem of the skirt moved automatically without wind, and many black and red runes began to appear on her arms. A blood moon rose from behind her, and countless red lights spread out like petals.
Brilliant, coquettish, and impossible to stare at.
"Ka...ka!"
Several red psychic chains suddenly appeared in the blood moon and instantly wrapped around the young painter's legs like vines, restricting his movement.
The young painter looked surprised, but there was no fear on his face.
"Red Witch" Claire's skirt fluttered lightly as she walked up to the painter Igor.
She stretched out her white palms to touch his face, and her red lips moved slightly:
"You already know my identity. Although you were stupid and didn't go to the church to report me, it's not too late to kill you now!"
The young painter stared into her eyes as dark as the abyss:
"I think you have a good heart, why would you do such a cruel thing?"
Claire laughed, her smile quickly faded, and her face became cold:
"Who do you think you are? Are you qualified to teach me a lesson?"
Igor's eyebrows were lowered, and he suddenly reached out to hug her in front of him, reaching out to touch her fair face.
After staring at her for a while, he began to kiss her red lips awkwardly.
Claire was startled, but did not break free. After a long time, all the strange phenomena on her body disappeared.
She leaned into his arms like a weak woman, staring into his close blue eyes:
"You could have done that at that time. I was really unconscious that night, and that golden ladybug had no attack power."
"You will kill me afterwards."
"No, I am a traditional witch and abide by the principle of equal exchange. I would rather you do that, so that we don't owe each other anything."
"Claire, I hope you can come with me and let's change places." The young painter hugged her and begged.
Claire looked struggling and hesitant, repeating the cycle of killing and being hunted. She was really tired after so many years.
She wants to rest, her life is running out, but she hasn't met a man yet.
Painter Igor Cassina slowly took out a silver-white ring from his pocket.
He bought it a week ago and spent almost half of his savings.
He slowly put the ring on the middle finger of her left hand. The witch Claire stared blankly at the painter who proposed to her with a pious face, and couldn't help but burst into tears.
The two of them moved to Billy Street in the east part of the city.
The famous witch "Red Witch" disappeared after that. Three years after she disappeared completely, people in the dark world thought she was dead.
In the end, even the Church of Light canceled the wanted order for her, believing that Claire died in some accident.
If that incident had not happened, there would only have been the gentle and virtuous Mrs. Cassina, and there would have been no more cruel and bloody Red Witch.
"Tsk, I came here to listen to your nightmare with the intention of hearing a ghost story. After working on it for a long time, it turned out to be a love story." Renn couldn't help complaining.
John, who was narrating the contents of the dream, was interrupted and his face twitched:
"Mr. Ackerman, this is the beginning, the rest is terrifying."
Catherine glanced at Ren with her beautiful eyes and asked John:
"John, sir, you clearly know so many inside stories, why were you so secretive when you spoke before?
Also, why don’t you tell the church about this?”
With a frown on his face, John looked tired:
"I couldn't trust you at first. It wasn't until you took out the key to the portrait studio that I was sure that the boss had entrusted you with this matter.
As for why I hid it?
Because I'm scared! That witch knows who I am and she lives on Billy Street! If I mess with her, will she kill me and my family?
You should know that she has a kind of golden ladybug that can monitor the surroundings. I am not sure if she is targeting me.
I can’t even go to church to reveal this!”
Ren was unmoved and said expressionlessly: "So, you just have nothing to do with yourself and watch others being harmed?"
"You are extraordinary people, right? Of course you are not afraid! What about me? How can I protect myself and my family?! Claire is the Red Witch!
It’s a powerful witch who needs the ‘Holy White Sword’ Michelle to deal with!”
John's expression became excited, his face full of pain, self-blame, and guilt.
"Mr. Ackerman, I am saying this now because I can no longer hold it in. Anyone with a little conscience will not watch others being killed and remain indifferent!
So, I am telling everything now, and I also hope that you can ensure the safety of my family!"
