Since the vomiting and diarrhea in the longhouse experience, I am sure that I have gone a little crazy. The presence of me peeking from outside the house, the charred shadows seeping out of the walls, the mist rising from the deep sea...these are the unheard fears that are buried deep in my genes. They grabbed me and started. The reason why I thought I was crazy was that I was very sure that these monsters never appeared in my memory, but when they appeared, I was frightened and attacked with pathological madness, and then in The next day, I went out to search for resources calmly as if nothing had happened.
This has nothing to do with whether I was timid or cowardly or strong and brave before, but when facing an unknown monster, no one should be able to mix fear and surprise into euphoria, and scream with sharp laughter.
But then I thought, I am afraid that only in this way can I survive in this miserable world, instead of screaming and being eaten by monsters.
Holding a sharp wooden stick in my hand, I hid by the fireplace and stared intently at the attic, the beds, firewood, or the shadows formed by the protruding floorboards, as if evil spirits would emerge from them. This concentration of energy kept me from feeling sleepy all night long. I stayed awake, but as if it was a price, my hunger became more intense, as if evil insects were gnawing at my intestines. This made me even expect a monster to break in and let me tear off a piece of meat.
The mist in the attic suddenly became thinner, and the veil that affected my vision disappeared. I rubbed my eyes and found that the mist was indeed no longer there. I stood up holding on to the wall, moved to the window and moved the wooden board. Through the gap, I saw outside the window. It was already dawn, and the thick fog clung to the sea surface like a living thing, retreating back into the deep sea.
I observed for a while and confirmed that the thick fog had indeed disappeared. I continued to move the wooden boards to let the cold light shine into the attic, turned the fireplace back on, and started what I had been looking forward to all night: fishing out the fishing nets left in the harbor.
I lay down on the floor and listened for a while to make sure that nothing from the fog was left below last night. I opened the trap door and went downstairs. I made sure that the doors and windows were intact before leaving the shelter and heading to Rodster Harbor alone along the deserted coastal streets. .
The second time I arrived, I felt sympathy for this lonely port. Perhaps because I was a sailor, the port has a natural intimacy and sense of security for me.
When I came to the end of the port, I saw the fishing net still tied to the ship's pillar. I couldn't wait to pull it up, but my heart sank when I touched the rough fishing net.
Yesterday, the weight that wanted to drag me into the sea disappeared, leaving only the weight of the fishing net itself filtering the sea water. Sure enough, when I pulled the fishing net out of the sea, I saw the holes on the side, and there was not even a seaweed in the fishing net. root.
But soon I saw that the fishing net had not completely broken and a few threads were connected into the sea, pulling other parts of the sea.
There's still a chance! But pulling the net straight up will only break it completely unless I jump off.
As a sailor, I believe that my water quality is not bad, but the surging deep water makes me afraid, and I worry that it is some kind of trap. But I am getting hungrier, and finally, driven by hunger, I jump into the cold and biting water and hold on to my tips. Sticks, groping downwards to explore.
I touched the broken fishing net. Unfortunately, the heavy object disappeared yesterday, and I only touched something as big as a fist, with a surface as slippery as fish scales. I didn't have time to distinguish it, so I grabbed it and surfaced, exposing it to the cool air.
Throwing the things into the port, I climbed ashore holding the sharp wooden thorns, and looked at the thing I caught with trembling eyes. It was not the fish or shellfish I had imagined, but a dirty sheep's head carved from obsidian. , many exquisite relief-like spiral carvings were carved on the horns, and their vividness in anthropomorphism reminded me of the vessels used for sacrifices in the wild. It made me feel uncomfortable, so I threw the unknown object back to the sea.
thump
The water splashed and the strange sheep's head sank into the deep sea. I untied the fishing net that brought bad luck and returned to the attic without finding anything. I dried my clothes in front of the fireplace and regained my body temperature.
Suddenly, I fell down holding my stomach, drooling like a hungry beast. The hunger became more and more intense, swallowing up my reason and my soul. I was so hungry that I wanted to eat everything in sight. Including myself... This is when I suddenly thought of the church bells I heard. Whether there are humans or monsters there, it means they have food... or they are food.
The remaining sanity drove me to take an oil lamp and a sharp wooden thorn, leave the shelter, and walk towards the Church of Last Hope.
I don’t know how much time passed before I arrived outside the deserted garden of the old stone building.
I looked at the fence in amazement, because I saw believers with sheep heads wandering around the church, as if guided by fate. Their sheep heads were surprisingly consistent with the obsidian sculptures I fished out from the deep sea. At this time, I Again I heard the roar of the storm ringing in my ears.
"Renner! Renner!" I yelled at the old crewman who was carrying the barrels: "Damn it, how many times did you have to tell me! I don't need you to come out to help in the storm! Now! Give it to me! Get back to the cabin. !Monkey, take this old thing back!"
The short crew member dragged the old crew member Po Jiao into the cabin. I stayed on the deck, and when I saw the sailor in need of help rushing to rescue him, I heard the shout of "be careful". I turned around in a hurry and saw the old man Po Jiao from before. The crew rushed towards me and knocked me off the side of the ship. Before falling into the waves, the last thing I saw was the old crewman from Pojiao and the disgusting sheep's head badge floating around his neck, shining seductively under the torch.
I looked back at the believer who was sliding towards me. The head with an embossed spiral extending from the sheep's head to the horns was so abominable. It sounded like I was saying something, but I couldn't hear it clearly. I guess it was some A vicious and abominable curse. My disgust for them reached its peak, and my appetite also reached its peak. I can't remember what happened next. I only remember that it was like a hungry wolf breaking into the sheep, and their pus was pierced by sharp wooden thorns. The church was horrified to recognize the screams, the stench of the human body was unbearable, and the sheep brain was extremely delicious.
I became the embodiment of hatred and gluttony, and started killing people in this church occupied by a monster with a head and a body.
After I regained consciousness, I looked at the twisted corpses of the "monsters" at my feet. Each of their foreheads had holes poked out, and the remaining brains were half-solidified beside their foreheads.
I fell to my knees at this scene and strained my throat, but I couldn't spit out anything. It was as if the brain had been integrated into my flesh and blood and became a part of my body. What made me gag was not the killing I committed, but the memory of the taste of sucking brains. The nausea felt like a big basin of thick nasal mucus being sucked out from the edge of the basin.
Just when I wanted to get up and get away from this slaughterhouse, I suddenly froze on the spot, shaking like an epilepsy, because some terrible suspicion made me shudder.