The bright sunlight passes through the dark yellow glass but turns into dark and uncertain light, with the broken shadows of a few branches and leaves swaying along the light.
With a bang, Ling Fan quickly closed the door of his room and locked it in. He pressed his back against the door tightly, panting, and took the black memo from his arms with trembling fingers.
Taking it out, the dark cover shone with charming reflections in the dim light in the room, and Ling Fan's heart pounded in panic.
Ling Fan hurriedly ran to his desk, sat down, and nervously placed the black memo on the table, holding it firmly with both hands, fearing that it would suddenly open on its own, and just stared at it in panic with his own eyes.
Look, there was an unspeakable fear in his heart, but there was another strange magic that attracted Ling Fan, tempting him to open the memo. In the end, Ling Fan still couldn't resist the irresistible fear.
temptation.
With a clatter, Ling Fan lifted up two fingers and opened the black cover of the memo, only to see a line of delicate and firm handwriting appear, 'It's my brother's notes!' Ling Fan shouted excitedly in his heart.
When Ling Fan read the words carefully, a chill came to Ling Fan's heart: Ah Fan, brother knows that you will definitely find this notebook, and you must read it for brother, but now you turn to this.
The page stops here! Don’t look back any further under any circumstances!! Afan, you must listen to your brother! You are my only brother, and I don’t want you to be killed by it!! Afan must remember your brother’s words!
Don’t look any further!!
It, what is it? Why does my brother use an impersonal word like 'it'?! Ling Fan's palms have been covered with beads of sweat for some time. My brother has always paid the most attention to Chinese characters. Such an outstanding brother.
How could there be a typo! So what exactly is this 'it'?! Why is my brother so afraid of this 'it'?!
Ling Fan sat in front of the table blankly, staring at the few lines his brother wrote for himself on the first page. Each word revealed panic and uneasiness, as well as his brother's love for his brother. After hesitating for a moment, Ling Fan
Fan's eyes suddenly flashed with determination, and his strong desire to pursue the truth about his brother's death had overcome the silent fear.
Ling Fan took a deep breath, raised two fingers, and picked up the corner of the second page.
Suddenly, a rumbling knock sounded from Ling Fan's door, as if someone was slamming the door with a huge hammer!
"Boom!" "Boom!" "Boom!" "Boom!"...
One sound, two sounds, three sounds, four sounds...
Ling Fan stared straight at the trembling door that was constantly being smashed, and at the almanac hanging on the door. The almanac was shaking its flat body, twisting left and right as if being torn apart.
.
Sweat beads gradually flowed down from Ling Fan's forehead and hair, dripping on the back of his hands, and suddenly broke into pieces.
The bedroom door was still shaking from time to time, as if to stop Ling Fan from continuing to read the memo. If it didn't stop, the rumbling knocking on the door would never stop.
Ling Fan stood up slowly, his throat couldn't help but move up and down. He swallowed hard, reached for the folding chair and grabbed it in his hand, holding it tightly. Then he moved step by step towards the folding chair that could not be opened.
With each step closer to the trembling door, Ling Fan's heart would beat faster, and it would hit Ling Fan's chest like a giant hammer.
Ling Fan stretched out a hand, and slowly grasped the trembling doorknob with a trembling hand. The strong vibration spread along the palm of his hand to his whole body, impacting Ling Fan's heart.
Ling Fan bit his lips tightly, staring at the shaking calendar with his bulging eyes. He took a deep breath, raised the folding chair in his hand high, and suddenly opened the door of the room.
Pulling it open, there was a sound of the door opening quickly. Ling Feng's pupils opened wide for an instant, but they returned to their original state in an instant.
The folding chair he held high hung down weakly. Ling Fan exhaled heavily, and his tense body suddenly relaxed. He gently raised his other hand, wiping the cold sweat from his face, and waited for it to be taken off with the back of his hand.
At that moment, the sweat on the back of his hand suddenly turned as red as blood, and there were drops of red blood. With a clang, the folding chair was thrown against the wall. Ling Fan shook the back of his hand in horror, wiping away the blood on the back of his hand.
He shook it off, but when he looked at the back of his hand again, he found that it was just his own thin beads of sweat. It turned out that it was just his hallucination.
Ling Fan breathed a sigh of relief, but his body that had just relaxed suddenly became tense again, because a corner of red cloth was faintly exposed at the corner of the corridor! His heavy breathing became rapid again, and Ling Fan would once again
He grabbed the folding chair, moved his steps carefully, and walked towards the red cloth step by step.
Quiet, surprisingly quiet, the kind of cold and eerie quiet.
The sound of breathing in and out, the pounding sound of the heart beating rapidly, the ticking sound of water droplets from the untightened faucet in the water room not far away... all kinds of sounds that were never heard before were heard by Ling Fan at this time.
There was a real ringing in his ears, but Ling Fan's eyes were fixed on the red cloth at this time. The red cloth was as bright as blood, and there seemed to be some wet and sticky liquid on it.
"Ah!!" Ling Fan suddenly swung the folding chair in his hand and smashed it against the piece of red cloth. He heard a click and the object was smashed into two pieces. Ling Fan gasped and held the folding chair tightly with both hands.
He stood on the chair and looked closely at the sticky red cloth, and suddenly a self-deprecating smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
A handful of mops were smashed into two pieces, and the red mop strips were dripping with water. Ling Fan couldn't help but laugh at himself for being so overly frightened that he would treat a handful of mops.
The mop mopping the floor will be so scared.
"But what was that rumbling knock on the door just now?" Ling Fan couldn't help but feel a little strange. Could it be that someone was joking with him, "Is it my imagination?! No! Impossible! How could I hear that rumbling door knocking sound?"
wrong!"
Ling Fan shook his head in pain, turned his back against the wall, and slammed his head against the cold wall. Tears slowly flowed from the corners of his eyes. Suddenly Ling Fan rushed to the side not far away.
He opened the faucet and stretched his head under the cold water. At this time, he couldn't tell whether it was tears or water slowly flowing down Ling Fan's cheek.
The wind picked up and came in along the cracks in the glass, flipping the pages of the memo, opening and closing them from time to time, opening them again and closing them gently.
A strange red figure flashed from the darkness around the corner.