In the center of the village is a stage that has been abandoned for a long time. The stage is very dilapidated, obviously it has been through time.
The stage is about one meter high, and the sides are covered with various waste newspapers, like an alternative decoration.
Most of the newspapers were incomplete, and some even had only one corner. They were filled with large and small black characters. The writing was blurry and unclear, as if it was obscured by some strange force.
Three sides of the stage were tightly covered by newspapers. Only the newspaper on the right edge seemed to have been torn off, revealing the dark red stage itself.
There were overgrown weeds around the stage, which was empty and dark. Four white candles stood at the four corners of the stage, as if they had been lit only a short time ago.
The flames swayed in the wind that came through the hole in the wall, beating silently. In the weak firelight, everything on the stage became vaguely visible.
Mo Qingcheng swore that she had never seen such a weird stage.
The countertop is bright blood red, as if fresh blood has rolled down. The whole body is made of wooden boards. Many places are sunken downwards, forming holes of different sizes. Unknown roots emerge from the holes.
, as thick as an arm, spreading outwards and growing, as if it has become part of the stage.
The floor is a mixture of red and green, and the background behind the wall is also red, as if it was splashed randomly, outlining a fiery red ruins, giving the whole picture a more flavor of blood and fire.
The stained white curtain had long since fallen off, covering half of the table haphazardly, slightly bulging, and it was unknown what was hidden underneath.
Mo Qingcheng looked at it and couldn't help but shudder. She felt that this thing looked like the white cloth used to cover the corpse in the morgue.
A small stage actually gave her the terrifying feeling of being in a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
She felt uneasy. The stage was clearly not like this when she came last time. There were no white candles lit in the four corners of the stage. Could it be that someone had rearranged the stage?
But apart from the fact that everyone in the village is full of monsters, it’s impossible for monsters to have a hobby of listening to operas, right?
Another point worth noting is that the power near the stage that can force people to speak has disappeared...
Mo Qingcheng remembered very clearly that the last time everyone entered Buyu Village to escape and passed by here, someone made a sound involuntarily and had his tongue torn out and died.
Some people tightly covered their mouths, but their mouths were almost scratched and blood was flowing out, but they still could not resist the force.
It was an irresistible force. But now, it has disappeared.
"Is it because of the white ink?" Mo Qingcheng couldn't help but wonder.
After all, the monsters in Buyu Village have been avoiding Bai Mo along the way, and the entire restricted area seems to be making compromises for his arrival, not daring to take action in front of him.
She looked at Bai Mo and saw that the latter was looking at the stage with a dull expression, his eyes a little confused.
"What's wrong, have you been to this place before?" she couldn't help but ask.
With her previous experience, she now dares to speak in a low voice.
"No, I just have a strange feeling."
Bai Mo shook his head, looking at the stage in a trance, feeling an inexplicable sense of desolation in his heart, which was an indescribable emotion.
At this moment, the firelight suddenly rose from the four corners of the stage, and the candles melted faster. The stage was obviously much brighter, and the blood and fire on the background wall seemed to be jumping. The air on the stage was hot and twisted, as if
It felt like it was really being burned by flames.
At the same time, there were suddenly a few more people on the stage.
They were dressed in tattered costumes from the old era, which obviously did not match their muscular bodies. They looked a bit funny, with facial makeup of different colors on their faces. As soon as they came on stage, they would twist their waists, sing and dance, and their movements were a bit stiff.
Mo Qingcheng was shocked. The people on the stage were none other than the guys who had entered Buyu Village with them before!
Although these people all wore facial makeup, she still recognized them, especially one of them impressed her deeply. He was clearly the guy who could still talk after losing his head!
It was some distance away from the stage. She tried her best to look, but she could vaguely see a red line on the man's neck.
She was creepy.
Bai Mo also recognized these guys who suddenly appeared on the stage. He was suspicious, didn't he say that these guys were gone? Why are they here again?
He thought for a while and simply pointed the camera at the stage.
On the stage, a strong man with black facial makeup was very involved, his expression was just right, and the emotional ups and downs in his movements were quite contagious - this was undoubtedly an excellent performance.
But he kept complaining in his heart.
This person is Wu Qing. Although he is not dead yet, it is no different from death. Except for his consciousness, every part of his body no longer belongs to him, but is dominated by some unknown existence.
The same is true for the other people on the stage. They are all corpses, but they are all manipulated to come to this stage to sing.
This time the organization is worthy of its name. Everyone on this trip has basically fallen into the underworld.
Offstage, Bai Mo was holding a camera and watching all this quietly.
Everyone was very involved in the performance, and their expressions changed slightly, as if they were carrying a suppressed emotion, but Bai Mo's expression was dull and he couldn't feel it at all.
These people kept opening and closing their lips, as if they were singing an opera, but the entire stage was silent, everything was silent, not even the sound of broken boards could be heard, it was like a mime.
The candlelight danced, and the stage flickered on and off, just like the broken walls on the background wall, disappearing in a burst of firelight.
This is a silent drama.
It was clearly a very strange scene, but somehow, Bai Mo was fascinated by it... even though he couldn't understand it at all.
The shadow beneath him continued to distort in the candlelight, and soon returned to normal.
Vaguely, he seemed to hear a rhythmic beat, and someone hummed an unknown tune, which seemed to be exactly what everyone on the stage was performing. The tone was gentle and tortuous, with some unexplained meaning.
Suddenly, the minor tune stopped abruptly.
He felt lost, and when he came back to his senses, he realized that the drama on the stage was over.
The fragile wooden boards of the stage were trampled to pieces, leaving dark holes and bloody sawdust scattered everywhere.
There was only one figure left on the stage. He bowed slightly to the audience and walked backstage in silence.
The four white candles have just burned out.
"Pah, pah, pah..."
After a brief silence, Bai Mo woke up like a dream, clapped his hands and praised loudly.
"good!"
The applause and praise were so loud and seemed quite abrupt in the quiet village. Mo Qingcheng was startled.
She felt something was wrong with Bai Mo's state and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
An old-fashioned tape recorder, a period stage, a silent drama...
There are some things that seem to follow in all of this.
She suddenly felt that the restricted area might not be as simple as a restricted area. There must be some kind of terrible secret behind it.
After she recovered her thoughts, she saw Bai Mo put down the camera and walked towards the back of the stage. She quickly followed him without hesitation.
Bai Mo pushed open the small door behind the stage and saw darkness in front of him.
The next second, four white candles lit up without warning, illuminating the room.
This is a square hut with cold iron walls on all sides. The floor is covered with hay and looks very messy. The floor and walls are covered with mottled red paint, like broken writing, giving people a rather depressing feeling.
There are two large holes as thick as arms on the innermost black iron wall. The iron sheet protrudes and the edges are quite irregular, as if something has been torn from the wall.
Against the wall on the left is an altar. There are signs placed one after another on the altar. There are no names on them, only a series of numbers from one to twenty-one.
Mo Qingcheng followed Bai Mo and looked around carefully. When she saw the altar, she was stunned and whispered: "This is..."
"It's a spiritual tablet."
Bai Mo took her words, his eyes fell on the green guqin next to the altar, and he gently plucked the strings.
All the strings were broken and no sound was made, which was quite strange.
Mo Qingcheng suddenly became nervous.
I saw twenty-one spiritual tablets trembling violently on the altar.
