The dim lights illuminated the faces, and the ticking sound in the clock represented the passage of time.
When the hands crossed again, everything seemed to have returned to many years ago, and all the dead people, carrying their memories and pain, started again on this journey that was destined to end.
"Every butterfly is the ghost of a former flower, returning to find itself."
The reader closed the book in her hand, leaned on the sofa, and looked weakly at the people around her.
She rarely attended such gatherings, and this time she came here solely because her favorite author invited her.
His eyes secretly glanced at the writer sitting in the corner. The man was still as quiet and silent as usual.
"I can't understand that just because of a letter, we have to come to this crappy place?" The student crossed his hands in front of his knees and took off his headphones: "I'm not interested in whether there are ghosts in the world. You want to prove it?
, then you can prove it by staying here."
"There are no ghosts in the world, only people who pretend to be ghosts." The thug stood at the door, his broad and strong back leaning against the door: "No one is allowed to leave this building until that person is caught."
"The person it wants to kill is me, why are you panicking?" The doctor put out the cigarette, with a hint of gloom and unhappiness hidden in his eyes: "I don't know if there are ghosts in the world. If there are no ghosts in the world,
The person who wants to kill me should be in the house, among the eight of you."
"But why did it want to kill you?" Uncle Li didn't even raise his head, looking at the medicine bottle in his hand: "Did you do something behind our back?"
"I just want to cure you all." The doctor stared at Uncle Li, as if he wanted to confirm whether the murderer was him.
"Everyone, please stop running around recently. This building is indeed unsafe." The teacher's voice was very gentle, but there was also a hint of uneasiness and deep-hidden fear in the gentleness: "I have inquired, and the neighbors in the building said this
It’s not clean, many people died in mysterious circumstances, and people from other places also like to come here to commit suicide. It feels like this building is like a black hole that constantly attracts the dead.”
She tried her best to persuade everyone not to run around. She likes everyone to stay in a safe room and stay away from danger: "The deaths of those people should not be simply accidents. There are many particularly scary stories circulating in this building.
, like some kind of monster with a pig face, the stench in the corridor that cannot be washed away by any detergent, the suicidal person who is still walking upstairs with his body broken, etc. In short, no matter whether there are ghosts in the world or not, we
Be careful."
"We are the only living people in this building. Aren't the other residents living well?" The student walked to the door, but the thugs were unwilling to get out of the way. The students were not afraid of ghosts, but were a little afraid of the thugs.
Regarding the question of whether there are ghosts in the world, several people in the room had different answers. No one of them could convince the other. After arguing for a long time, the doctor suddenly looked at the writer who said nothing.
"Writer, you were the first person to read the letter, and you were also the one to accept the invitation. Do you think the person writing you the letter was a ghost? Or a human?"
The doctor is a very smart man, and every word he says seems to have a special meaning hidden in it.
Although it was not stated clearly, everyone present heard something from the doctor's words, and the doctor seemed to doubt the writer.
It seems that the lights in the house flickered a few times because of unstable voltage.
Everyone looked at the writer sitting in the corner. Compared with other people in the room, he had a unique temperament that was difficult to describe in words.
It was as if a rope made of a mixture of reason and madness hung around his neck. This rope was hanging from heaven and was slowly tightening. While it was about to hang him, it also brought him closer and closer to the answer.
Raising his head, the writer glanced at the doctor, and his gaze made the doctor feel like he was avoiding him.
"If I were to kill you, then the eight of us would be around a corpse, discussing why you committed suicide."
There is no redundant elaboration, but it is full of persuasion, and there seems to be no reason to refute it.
"I accepted the invitation just to finish writing my book. This place is very suitable for the ending of my story."
The lights in the room began to flash again. When the writer spoke, there were faint footsteps in the corridor outside the door, and a faint fishy smell poured in from the crack in the door. It seemed that all abnormalities only appeared when the writer spoke.
.
The doctor stared at the writer for a long time. His facial expression changed several times before finally returning to normal.
As if nothing had happened just now, he changed the topic: "What happened to me is a wake-up call for everyone. The murderer is using all kinds of terrible rumors to kill people. After you leave here, you can stay quietly in your own room."
In the room, do not go out before dawn under any circumstances..."
Before the doctor finished speaking, he heard a strange noise coming from the door of the living room, as if someone was scratching the door panel with fingernails. As he got closer, everyone heard the sound of wind chimes. The strange sound seemed to come from room 401.
As the wind chimes rang, a pungent stench emerged from every corner of the room. No one knew what was emitting the stench, as if the room itself was a corpse.
The student began to retching, the teacher and the reader frowned, A Meng covered his mouth and nose, and the only ones in the room were the doctor, the writer, and Uncle Li, whose expressions remained normal.
The discussion about the ghost and the murderer was fruitless, and the physical discomfort gradually became obvious. The student looked around to find the source of the odor. A Meng put down the pen in his hand, his face turned red from holding back.
When he finally couldn't bear the strong stench, the student pushed the thug away: "Do whatever you want, don't get involved with me, I'm going back to the room."
The student grabbed the door handle, and when he was about to open the door, he pressed his other hand on the door panel.
Looking along the arm in confusion, the student saw the writer walking past the door of the room at some point.
He was about to push the writer away, but stopped when his hand was about to touch the writer's shoulder, and he saw the writer's face.
Deep in the calm eyes, there is a world that is completely out of touch with reality. Auditory hallucinations, hallucinations, delusions, these are the most destructive positive symptoms of schizophrenia. The writer has become accustomed to it, and the boundaries of reality have become very blurred to him.
"If you go out, you might die."
Silently looking at the living people in the room in front of him, the writer gently pressed his temples, and heard various noises in his ears.
He is trying his best to control his behavior. He has tried very hard to suppress the desire to scream, hit the wall, and tear everything to pieces in his heart, but every word he says still makes the whole room become depressed. His emotions seem to be able to
Infected all sub-personalities.
Stretching his hand towards the student, the writer, who was in an extremely conflicted state of mind, clearly wanted to catch the student and prevent him from leaving.
But the reality was different from the script. The student subconsciously avoided the writer's hand, pushed the door open and ran out!
This is almost the body's instinctive reaction when encountering danger. The student has forgotten what he should say next. He just doesn't want to be stared at by the writer in front of him.
"return!"
When the door panel was opened, the stench in the room dissipated a lot, and the oppressive atmosphere also weakened. Several of the actors looked at Han Fei and even breathed a sigh of relief.
The writer played by Han Fei is just a supporting character, but he really seems to be the main character. His emotions can infect everyone in the room. His ability to control the scene is so terrifying that even Bai Xian, who plays the doctor, is secretly frightened.
: "The young people nowadays are really good at acting."
"It's more than good." No matter whether he smelled the stench or experienced other things, his expression was not affected in any way. He took out a bottle of medicine from his pocket, poured two pills and swallowed: "His acting skills are like
A bladed knife is very sharp, able to break through some appearances and pierce directly into the hearts of the audience. He can let his emotions infect everyone, and he can control them freely, but I worry that he will be affected by the role in the play.
After all, the role he plays is relatively dangerous."
The two veteran actors recognized Han Fei very much, and everyone got to know each other. Just when they were about to chat with Han Fei, a scream suddenly came from the corridor.
Something that did not happen in the script brought all the actors back to reality, and they all ran out of Room 404.
They saw the child playing the role of a student slumped on the stairs. Many bird carcasses were thrown on the steps leading to the third floor. Some of those carcasses had been dead for a long time, and the feathers and blood stains were solidified together.
"What's going on?" Hearing the scream, the door on the third floor was opened. Director Zhang and the staff ran over. They also saw the bird corpse on the stairs: "Who did this? Props! Where are the props!
"
"Director Zhang, this was not caused by us!" The staff member in charge of props hurried over: "Didn't you say that we should all leave the fourth floor and give the actors some time to adjust alone?"
"Didn't you do it?" Director Zhang asked people to quickly clean up the bird carcasses, and then ran to the fourth floor: "Is everyone okay?"
"It's okay." Several actors were also a little confused: "You haven't been to the fourth floor?"
"Yes! We have been watching you through the broadcaster on the third floor. You performed so well."
"What's the sudden smell and scratching sound on the door?" Bai Xian was stunned for a moment. He thought it was arranged by the director.
"Stink?" Director Zhang smelled it and found that there was no peculiar smell in the corridor, but he did not refute Bai Xian: "It is probably the fault of other neighbors in the building. We have given a lot of money, but there are still a small number of people